DETROIT
With the number one pick, the NFL picked Detroit to host the 2024 draft.
And I was there for it.
Hometown hip-hop hero Eminem kicked off the draft, bringing cheers even with NFL commissioner Roger Goodell at the stand (don’t worry, the traditional boos toward the villainous commish returned soon after).
By the end of the three-day event, more than 775,000 fans had filtered through downtown Detroit for what felt like the ultimate tailgate party.
It was a draft day attendance record, smashing Nashville’s 600,000 tally from 2019.
Several streets were closed and blocked off as a steady stream of fans from all 32 teams crowded in — mostly Detroit fans, of course, but I even saw a Browns fan (they do exist!)
In the days before making the drive to Motown, the usual response I got when telling people about my trip was, “Be careful!”
Nobody said, “You’ll love Detroit. It’s lovely.”
The locals know the nation’s image of their city. But with so many people visiting, and millions more watching on TV, Detroit embraced its opportunity to be in the spotlight.
It’s estimated that the football event pumped $160 million into the local economy.
Akram was my Uber driver to The Old Shillelagh, an Irish pub in downtown Detroit, and he expressed pride that his city has cleaned itself up a lot in the last decade, investing heavily in upgrading its downtown appeal.
Last year, Detroit had its fewest homicides in 57 years.
I felt plenty safe. All over the massive block party were pockets of police, 50 security dogs, even six horses.
There were beer stands every few feet and the smell of legalized marijuana in the air — yet people were on their best behavior.
Yes, there was ribbing and booing — mostly toward Detroit’s division rival Bears and Packers fans. But it never got out of hand.
On the second night of the draft, as I worked my way back to the shuttle that’d take me to my hotel, I found myself on one of the closed streets, somehow — alone.
I walked down the middle of the empty road, as if in an apocalypse movie. The moment felt like an intimate welcome to the city. It was lovely. Not because the Motor City had crumbled into ruin — but because it was alive and thriving.
Scott McDaniel is an assistant professor of journalism at Franklin College. He lives in Bargersville with his wife and three kids.
