One random Halloween afternoon a million years ago, two forgettable Big Ten football programs clashed in Minneapolis. The 15–10 barnburner would all but vanish from memory, lost to the far reaches of football history—except to one Minnesota lineman, Adam Haayer, and Michigan’s starting quarterback, Thomas Edward Patrick Brady Jr. Eventually, two football players who held nothing in common would be joined by one number: 199. As in, 199th overall, their shared NFL draft slot.
Haayer (199, ’01) watched the festivities in 2000, his attention lingering on Big Ten prospects, like Brady, whom the Patriots famously selected in Round 6. “I was actually surprised he got drafted,” Haayer admits. The tackle would be stupefied later, when he realized his 199 status one year later would forever tie him to the GOAT. He still tells youth football campers about their connection, still roots for Brady, his teammate in a fraternity as strange as any in sports.
On Saturday, the brotherhood will welcome another member when the Vikings, barring a trade, will tie one hopeful to a legend everyone who followed him at 199. The pick will represent a gamble, same as always, the choice split between small schoolers who faced inferior competition, major-program prospects who tested poorly or bloomed late, fliers who switched positions or projected elsewhere in the pros and quarterbacks who see Brady as a blueprint, despite the impossible nature of his miraculous career path.
Haayer’s life, like most players drafted in the slot the quarterback made prominent, is the one that Brady have lived. It’s the difference between 20 career NFL games played and 21 glorious NFL seasons starred in. Haayer’s LinkedIn profile is proof:
Haayer skipped hosting a draft party, given his limbo-low expectations. Good thing, because the Titans took him during a commercial break while he sat in his parents’ living room. He set a modest goal that night, wanting only to make the team. Before he could, he blew out a knee in camp. He bounced to Minnesota, Arizona, St. Louis. He learned how to play guard and center, trying to push back his football expiration date. Still, he jokes, “I had a really good career of getting fired.”
John Madden didn’t help. Haayer met the broadcast icon before a game against Philadelphia, and he reminded Madden of their shared birthplace: Austin, Minn. That night, Haayer replaced an injured starter and was tasked with blocking Jevon Kearse, a pass rusher whose nickname—The Freak—spoke to his genetic fortune. Haayer terms his performance “not horrible,” noting that he did not yield a sack. But there was Madden, telling the world, “Well, if this Haayer guy doesn’t pick it up, he’s gonna be for-hire tomorrow.”
And, later: .
Haayer hung on, like most 199s, for as long as he could. He fought through injuries, requiring roughly 20 epidurals so he could stand up straight and block. He made $120,000 his first year. He lived in a friend’s basement to save money, the bed next to a beer fridge, the bottles rattling at night. He also loved every minute of this outlier existence, the chance to simply play pro football, regardless of what it would cost him.
Extensive damage to his back left Haayer unable to work in 2015. He quit his job hawking wheelchair accessible vans and went on disability, sold his house and downsized. He moved from Minnesota, where the cold worsened his injuries, to Texas. He can’t stand up for long stretches, can’t sit in a non-supported chair, and can’t walk without limping, due to nerve damage in his right leg. A golf cart ferries him even short distances, and he reads more, because he can’t move much. Only naps provide brief respites from pain. “It’s pretty miserable, to tell you the truth,” he says. His goals changed. “Right now, I want to keep myself busy, healthy and positive.”
All these years later, Haayer understands that 199 life, how sharing a celebrated draft slot with Brady ruined all reasonable expectations. But rather than see Tom Terrific’s success as an impossible hurdle, he looks to Brady for the same things as the rest of their fraternity: motivation, inspiration and, above all, hope.
