Fathers, sons and the Mannings

There are countless horror stories about undergraduate advisors at this institution. Mine, though not without its own apprehension, is more unique than scary. My advisor is my dad, Dr. Phillip Jones, senior associate dean of education for mechanical engineering and materials sciences.

I can still vividly remember our first encounter, our first academic one at least. I was a nervous freshman and I walked into his office, an office I had been walking into since I was about three years old—yeah he’s a geezer. This time, I was to receive his advice about what classes to take. When I walked in, he looked at me, then quickly looked at his advisee list, found my name, and said “So, Mr. Jones, tell me about yourself.” He then proceeded to shake my hand as if he didn’t know who he was seeing. I was taken aback. “What the hell is this?” I thought. My response was, “Uhhh. I'm from San Diego.” It was an awkward moment to say the least.

Actually, after that first meeting, things got more normal. I saw it was starting to pay off to know low people in high places. I took his advice for classes, well, most of it anyway. I didn’t take all the hard stuff he recommended, but I listened to it at least. I gradually started going in more and more frequently; just to talk about this and that. Sports were always high on the priority list since both of us are pretty big fans, though I know way more. The reason I say that is because of his opinions on a certain sports related issue.

One day I was relaxing in his office between classes, talking about football. He, having moved to Durham when I was still a kid in California, had become a Carolina Panthers fan. I, of course, have allegiance to the San Diego Chargers. This difference in favorite teams would prove important. “Those Chargers sure are messing up the draft, aren’t they? Making Eli and his family look like jerks and all.” There are few things that get to me. Illogical slams at the San Diego Chargers happen to be one of them.      

Early this spring the Chargers were, for neither the first time nor probably the last, honored with the first pick as a result of being the undisputed worst team in the NFL the previous season. I, like many other Charger fans, expected a quarterback to be picked. With the recent retirement of Ryan Leaf—don’t even get me started—the overall inefficiency of Drew Brees, and the fact that Doug Flutie turns 86 this year, this didn't seem like such a bad notion. After all, this seemed like a year in which some great quarterbacks would be entering the draft. The likes of Ben Roethlisberger, Philip Rivers and the great Eli Manning himself all looked to pursue professional football careers the following season.

I regrettably say I was very fond of the idea that Manning would quarterback the Chargers. Members of the Chargers’ management went around the country to visit with potential first round draft picks. After this series of visits, the Chargers released a document from General Manager AJ Smith saying he was particularly fond of Manning. This seemed great, until it happened. In a word, Archie happened.

Public announcements leading up to draft day made it clear that Manning, heavily influenced by his domineering dad Archie Peyton and his arrogant brother Peyton, would sit the year out and wait until the next draft rather than play for the Chargers.

“This is a bold move on the part of our family,” Archie said. “But I am not bold enough to try to manipulate this draft. I would not do that.” Added Peyton: “For the Chargers, it's not a knock against them, this is just something Eli wanted to do.”