Jelisa Castrodale

It’s almost time. After months of uninformed speculation, of unnecessary spectacle and countless hours of morning show coverage, the big day is almost here. During the last week of April, so many of our questions will be answered: will he say yes? What will they wear? And what happens when the cameras stop rolling?

No, not the Royal Wedding. Prince William and Kate Middleton will end their big day with closed-mouth kisses and choreographed waves. I was talking about the NFL draft on April 28. We’ll find out whether the Carolina Panthers will grab Cam Newton with the first pick. We’ll count the number of obnoxious suits, the ones with more buttons than a Marriott elevator. And by mid-evening we’ll realize that the Raiders are already out of playoff contention.

It’s apparently never too early to start the draft discussion. Super Bowl MVP Aaron Rodgers hadn’t even gotten to Disney World before someone started debating whether the Packers should pick up a running back in the first round.

This year, the chatter officially starts 9 1/2 hours before the Panthers start eyeing the digital countdown clock. ESPN and the NFL Network will join forces for an unholy amount of coverage — a whopping 38 HOURS — starting at 10:30 a.m. ET Thursday April 28 and continuing either until 10 p.m. on Saturday or until the scaffolding holding Mel Kiper’s hair collapses.

But is it necessary to — literally — unfurl a sidewalk’s worth of red carpet for what’s essentially a job fair? It must be. We’re one football-hungry nation, one that eagerly swallows anything served with the NFL shield and potential fantasy implications.

The NFL has officially become our country’s preferred pastime. Nothing highlights the fact that baseball has been horsecollared and crushed beneath eleven pairs of Under Armour cleats like comparing television ratings.

On Sunday night, the Red Sox/Yankees game became ESPN’s highest rated basebrawl since 2009, with a respectable 4.7 million viewers.

Special feature 2011 NFL Draft: First round predictions Evan Silva gives his latest predictions for the first round of the NFL Draft. Rotoworld.com

That’s neat. But 6.6 million people watched at least part of February’s NFL combine. That’s not a game, not a practice, not an exhibition. Six million people watched guys in numbered tank tops stand on scales before trying to outrun a stopwatch.

The 2010 NFL draft set records with 7.3 million viewers (or a whopping 8.3 million if you add the NFL Network’s coverage), which bested the combined audience of two NBA playoff games and of NBC’s Community and 30 Rock. Neither teams of trained comedy writers nor the still LeBron’ed Cavaliers can compete with a kid holding up his new work shirt.

The NBA draft is the most comparable non-sporting sports event. In 2010, it was seen by 2.8 million viewers, which put it somewhere between Comedy Central’s 10 p.m. airing of Futurama and that USA show about that semi-attractive guy who does something for … um … rich people or bomb squads or … uh … I think he wears sunglasses, maybe?

So how did the draft morph from 1980’s low-key, low-rated weekend that then-commissioner Pete Rozelle likened to “reading the Manhattan phone book” into an all-out spectacle? In part, because we believe it is. We’ve bought into the idea that it’s worth several months of hype, 38 hours of coverage, an entire summer’s worth of second-guessing.

Remember the year everyone thought Paris Hilton was famous, when paparazzi would gouge each other’s eyes trying to take pictures of the radishes she picked off her plate? She got famous by acting like she was already famous. And we bought it. The draft is the Paris Hilton of semi-sporting events. It’s huge because the league and the networks started treating it that way.

Sure, there are other factors too. The draft’s April appearance puts it right in the middle of our offseason NFL cravings, a little less than three months after the Super Bowl and a little more than three before a (lockout-dependent) Bears/Rams Hall of Fame Game. Compare that with the NBA’s Night of Unflattering Suits and Awkward Photo Ops, which airs just seven days after a potential Game 7 of the Finals.

This year’s draft will be bigger than ever, partially because we want it to be and partially because of the ongoing lockout. What we’ll see beamed from Radio City Music Hall will be garnished with liberal amounts of confusion and curiosity, since the rules have changed about how teams can interact with their new signees. It also eliminates draft-day player trades; if Eli Manning were in the Class of ’11, he’d be sulking in a powder blue Bolts jersey.

Or maybe it’ll set records for audience size, for online interaction and for sofa-based bedsores because — regardless of what the Royal family says — the NFL is King.

Sorry, Prince William. We’re only watching your wedding if you can sprint a 4.4 40, can run the option, and if after the vows, you promise to hold Kate up like she’s your brand new Cowboys jersey.

Jelisa Castrodale has learned a lot about life by making a mess of her own. Read more at jelisacastrodale.com , follow her on twitter at twitter.com/gordonshumway, or contact her at