O'Donnell: Northwestern's Skoronski will skip live draft night. Will the Bears dare to skip him?
IF THEY MEASURED HUMILITY in all of the 2023 NFL draft sciences, Peter Skoronski of Northwestern would be way above the chart.
In that respect, he's just carrying on an old family tradition.
Of the 18 top prospects asked to attend America's most public major rite of spring passage in Kansas City Thursday night (ABC, ESPN, NFL Network and multiple audio outlets, 7 p.m. with hours of lead-in programming), only Skoronski declined.
Instead, the talented offensive lineman will monitor the proceedings somewhere along the transom between Evanston's Enchanted Lakefront and his home suburb of Park Ridge (Maine South, Class of '20).
The 6-foot-4, 315-pound “Pancake Kid” will be surrounded by friends and family. According to Paul Kennedy, Northwestern's associate athletic director / strategic initiatives & communications, Skoronski has also “politely requested” that “all media” respect his privacy.
SKORONSKI IS HARDLY ANY KIND of cocooning purple wallflower.
He's just a refreshing counterpoint amid an age of huge money sports diminished by “me-me-me” and grossly excessive narcissism on social media.
Said Kennedy: “While he's fully aware that he's about to blow up in notoriety this week, these decisions are perfectly in character for the humble, self-deprecating, unassuming giant who showed up on campus in the summer of 2020 and stepped right into the starting left tackle role.
“His preference would be to go out and pancake defensive linemen for three hours and never have to speak about it.”
AS MANY OF THE 12 MILLION OR SO expected to be watching the draft's first round know, Skoronski's grandfather was Bob Skoronski Sr., a pillar of Vince Lombardi's five NFL champions in Green Bay (1961-62 and 1965-67 including Super Bowls I and II).
Skoronski Sr. was the son of Polish-American mill workers from Derby, Conn. — a river town 9 miles from New Haven. He attended Indiana because the university also offered older brother Frank Skowronski a scholarship. Younger brothers Gene and Ted Skowronski played at Harvard before becoming attorneys.
Bob's wing of the family name “Skowronski” became “Skoronski” at Indiana when an administrative aide in the athletic department, rushing to fill out scholarship paperwork, left out the “w.” Thus the eternal entry in Packers Titletown lore.
LOST IN THE RUSH TO LINK grandfather and grandson has been the football vitae of Bob Skoronski Jr., who with wife Anne will probably be sitting closer to the video screens tonight than their son.
He was an All-Ivy League defensive tackle at Yale (Class of '79) for the enduring Carmen Cozza. He then pursued long runs on Chicago's principal financial exchanges. Anne Skoronski has a master's in business administration from DePaul.
For deepest football trivia buffs only, Cozza succeeded John Pont as head coach of the Elis in 1965. One year later, he was rebuilding with a backfield that included undersized fullback Tim Weigel of Lake Forest (yes, that Tim Weigel) and promising sophomore halfback Calvin Hill.
The mystical first-year varsity QB was Brian Dowling of suburban Cleveland, Ohio. He would later be immortalized as “B.D.” in Garry Trudeau's long-running “Doonesbury” comic strip.
Are some cosmic marbles starting to line up here?
ABOUT PETER SKORONSKI and the 2023 NFL draft:
Almost all trustworthy speculators list Skoronski and Paris Johnson Jr. of Ohio State as the two top offensive lineman in the sweepstakes. Both have flourished as left tackles — the blind side — in college.
Four months ago, Skoronski appeared to be rated slightly higher than Johnson on a majority of boards.
Since then, questions have arisen about whether Skoronski's arms are “long enough” to play prime-time OT in the NFL. That, some suggest, could mean he would be a more natural fit at guard.
In a new episode of “The Foundation: Northwestern Football,” released on The Big Ten Network Wednesday, Skoronski calmly questioned such micro-dissection:
“It's funny because I didn't realize that was an issue until (the draft) process started. I played for three years in the Big Ten and didn't realize it was an issue. I think it's more of a technique thing I can improve on.”
UP AT HALAS HALL, green Bears GM Ryan Poles is on an uneasier seat that just about anyone in the organization wants to admit.
He is saddled with Justin Fields, a quarterback he didn't draft from Ohio State, a university that has never produced a championships QB in the NFL.
Whether accurate or not, he is also perceived as the point man of accountability for the departure of Roquan Smith last October, a high-impact All-Pro linebacker entering the prime of his career.
Smith, by road-not-taken means, came up with a bold asking price (five years, $100M) for his new contract. Poles and supporting vertical elected instead to trade him.
John Harbaugh and the Ravens — an outfit with a much higher success rate than the Bears of recent vintage — paid the ask and validated Smith's confident market value projection.
THE HIGHEST PRIORITIES OF THE BEARS heading into Kansas City are to upgrade attitude and spirit in the locker room after a brutal 3-14 non-season and give the dangerously hotfooted Fields a heightened chance to succeed as a less vulnerable dual-threat QB.
That spy drone screams “long-term character guy at left tackle.”
It could be Johnson. It could be Skoronski.
Up in the Valhalla, Jim Finks is looking at George Halas and saying, “Coach, it's got to be an 'OT.'”
And the most probable reply of “The Papa Bear” would be: “Well then take the Polish kid. His grandfather used to make Atkins and O'Bradovich look like a pair of bleeping bleep-bleepers far too many afternoons.”
The Maine South humility would be merely a Draft Night absentee-plus.
• Jim O'Donnell's Sports and Media column appears Sunday and Thursday Reach him at jimodonnelldh@yahoo.com. All communications may be considered for publication.