Imagine waiting for your new employer to announce your arrival and congratulate you in front of an auditorium full of peers, mentors and other management — and before a live television audience.

Sounds pretty good, doesn't it? Well it can be, but not if you're left waiting and waiting and waiting.

Welcome to the life of a future NFL player who's watching his stock plummet dramatically in full view of the world.

This year, it looked as though Notre Dame quarterback Jimmy Clausen was going to be the one.

With only so many teams looking for quarterbacks, there have been some mixed reactions to Clausen because of doubts about his leadership skills. But because the Fighting Irish used a pro system, he appears to be the most NFL-ready player at the position.

Well, Clausen said over the weekend he would not attend the NFL Draft, which runs Thursday (first round), Friday (second round) and Saturday (third through seven), because his grandfather couldn't make the trip and Clausen wanted to be surrounded by family.

Sounds nice, but maybe he just didn't want to join the likes of Ben Roethlisberger, Aaron Rodgers and Brady Quinn among quarterbacks who have fallen in the draft.

You remember those sad scenes of players sitting at an empty table waiting to be called, just like a kid at the high school dance?

I've said for years that if I was in that situation, I'd be taking my face time and running with it. You want to put the camera on me, I'll have all of America waiting for the commercials and getting a break from the draft overload.

After the first reference that pundits are shocked so and so went before me and I become the last person at the table:

• Before the next commercial break, the camera pans over to me. Meanwhile, I've borrowed a pair of brainiac glasses, a tweed jacket with patches on the elbows and am reading a copy of Tolstoy's "War and Peace."

• Next break, I'm leaning back on my chair, feet up on the table and sleeping with my book folded open on my chest.

Still waiting?

• Next, I'd pretend to be telling a joke to a large group of people and, on cue, have them all laugh hysterically like it was the wittiest thing ever said.

• How about pretending to lift the really good silver and the salt and pepper shakers, give a shifty look to each side, then slip them into my pockets.

• I'd be clearing the table, putting the cups and plates into a small tub, then I'd walk away and complain that none of the other drafted guys left a tip.

• I'd get the oldest guy I could find and have him wear my jacket and tie.

Wait. Finally? My name is called?

• I'd drop to my knees and scream Sally Field's famous Academy Award line: 'You like me. ... You really like me!"

After the standing ovation from the crowd and a strange look from the guy who takes over shaking your hand after the commissioner is long gone, you realize you're now the most famous person there — and not because you sat quietly at the big kids' table.