''I've got to stop sweating,'' giant Jake Long said to himself in the bowels of Radio City Music Hall, taking off his Dolphins baseball cap and wiping his brow with the sleeve on his expensive beige suit.
The machine, an insatiable beast, had to be fed here Saturday, fed hope and sound, so Long kept smiling and tolerating and talking a lot without saying anything at all. Every few steps, ''How does it feel?'' Well, it doesn't feel a lot different than it did a few steps ago, the last time he was asked that question. And it doesn't feel a lot different than it has for the last four days, actually, ever since the Dolphins made him the highest-paid offensive lineman in the National Football League. But Long played along and nonetheless said over two droning hours of interviews that it was ''breathtaking'' and ''amazing'' and ''awesome'' and ''crazy.'' Smile plastered on, he did a choreographed dance not that much unlike the ones another Dolphin, Jason Taylor, has been doing on network TV as he too tries to make a career transition.
So the guy with a heavy accent asked if Long had anything to say to fans on Mexican TV. Long did not, so all he came up with was, ''Keep watching NFL football!'' The pushy guy from Yahoo TV demanded that Long say his salary out loud to the viewers. ''Thirty million guaranteed!'' he obliged politely but uncomfortably. ``It's nuts!''
NBC and ESPN TV were waiting for him to talk some more. The NFL Network and Sirius Radio and CBS and ESPN Radio had already been knocked off a very long checklist his two PR guys had. Again and again, grown men took Long's picture with their cellphones as Long's security whispered about them being dorks. Fans serenaded Long with ''Jake!'' and ''Congratulations!'' -- the soundtrack to his new life. Flashbulbs all around him? Those weren't flashbulbs. Those were strobes put in all over this packaged Saturday to look like flashbulbs. A Jets fan with hair dyed green booed Long and his family.
''Been a crazy ride,'' Long's father said as fans tugged at him. ``Not a whole lot of sleep. Very emotional. Hard to explain. Haven't had time to sit down or think. A lot of tears.''
Long's parents were walking amid cheering and congratulations but got stopped by security as they tried to get to their son. Sorry. You can't go this way. But this is the family of the No. 1 overall pick, their handler told the security guard. Sorry. You can't go this way. They could have used their 6-7, 313-pound son at that point to open another hole, but he was bogged down in yet another interview on the other side of the room.
Given the anonymity and lack of glory at his position, Long might never look and feel as good as he did on this day, even if he is great. Of all the top picks, he was the biggest and thickest on stage in front of three rafters of fans. He was the only one who had to duck under ceilings backstage. His new employer is an unspeakable mess, so he got a lot of unfair questions about being a savior. Left tackles aren't saviors. Left tackles are the dirty-work disciples who protect the saviors.
Ready to be the resurrection, Jake?
''Yeah,'' he said. ``Have to prove I'm worth it.''
What's it like to be the highest-paid offensive lineman in the league?
''Crazy to think that,'' he said. ``Having that over my head, I have to prove they made the right choice.''
What about the size of the expectations?
''I'm ready,'' he said.
The Raiders were picking now. They didn't have a lot of highlights last season. But now the few they did have came up on all the huge TV screens here so that everyone could watch the Raiders score again and again against Long's new team. There's Daunte Culpepper producing one, two, three, four, five touchdowns and dancing and pointing at his knee to mock the Dolphin crowd. Good God, poor Long has a lot of work to do, but his new employer had to be at the bottom of the sport for him to be at the top of it. Four picks in the first 64 Saturday are the first steps toward healing.
''I explode off the ball,'' Long said when asked about his style, the idea of violence finally bringing a little charisma out of him. ``I go after and try to maul the defender. Try to bury him in the dirt.''
More walking. More questions. More starting to earn that paycheck by representing his new franchise with a fresh and new voice.
''I've got to stop sweating,'' Long says again, wiping his brow with his sleeve. The handkerchief that is in his left pocket remains untouched, a decoration. Offensive linemen do not do handkerchiefs. That's for the pretty boys who hog the football and the scoring and the glory.
Are you mean, Jake?
''Yeah,'' he says. ``Mean as hell.''
Welcome to hell, Jake. The Dolphins haven't really mattered since Dan Marino left the building. They've wasted the careers of Taylor and Zach Thomas with six years and no playoffs. Bill Parcells, about the most credible thing the Dolphins have, couldn't have done much wrong Saturday with a fan base that so desperately wants to believe that it'll believe just about anything, Lineman? Yeah, finally, addressing that need! Quarterback? Yeah, we've been needing one of those forever! Defensive lineman? Yeah, the defense is old! Parcells could have only screwed this up if the Dolphins had once again drafted Ted Ginn's family.
Can Long play? No one knows. I don't know. You don't know. Mel Kiper doesn't know. And Parcells doesn't know. Rare is the business that spends this much money on something this inexact and unscientific. Long may be bust Robert Gallery or Hall of Famer Johathan Ogden or something in between. There is nothing in sports that has this kind of disparity between how little we know and how much we talk about it. You won't know if what the Dolphins did Saturday is good or bad for a very long time. Years, maybe. There is nothing guaranteed except Long's $30 million.
All you can do is hope.
Those six words are what Saturday's big party was all about.
Actually, that's five words to many.
All you need is the last one.
Hope, for a betrayed and hostile fan base, is the beginning of the bridge back from sickness to health.
