Alan Greenwood

Grading a team’s performance in the NFL Draft is a fairly useless exercise – at least until you see a prospect’s abilities in at least one series of an intra-squad scrimmage.

There is a consensus among the oppressive would-be Mel Kiper Jrs. that Bill Belichick and his best friend Nike earned somewhere between a C-minus and C-plus. Scooping up Marshall kicker Justin Rohrwasser in the fifth round ensured that the Pats’ efforts would do no better than a midding score.

An adequate kicker, proven last season to be a necessity, could have been unearthed among the undrfated free agent flotsam.

And if making Rohrwasser the 159th player selected wasn’t dubious, the right-wing militia tattoo pushed him across the line into you-have-to-be-kidding territory.

Rohrwasser’s explanation – he thought it was a way of honoring family and friends serving in the armed forces – did a Hindenberg before getting more than a foot off the ground.

At least he says he’ll cover it while on the lock.

That is a futile gesture. The locker room damage has been done.

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