For years, Daniel Graham would listen to his father regale his neighborhood friends with stories from a seven-year career in the NFL. The youngster would roll his eyes and generally treat the tales as if they were ancient history.

The less heard, figured Daniel Graham, the better.

But these days, less than two months before Graham is to report to training camp as the first-round draft pick of the New England Patriots, he leans forwards in his chair any time his father, former NFL linebacker Tom Graham, offers up a nugget of wisdom on life at the highest level of the sport.

Suddenly those old stories have taken on new significance, and Tom Graham is playing the role of a latter-day Solomon for a son who is brimming with confidence about his career with the defending Super Bowl champions, but also filled with questions about the future. The same kid who once ignored the old war stories has been transformed into a rapt audience of one.

"It's definitely easier now," acknowledged Tom Graham, "to get his attention when you start talking about the things that you went through as a rookie."

	“	If there's a resource like that, you'd be crazy not to use it, because you discover pretty quickly you're going to need every advantage you can get. The game may have changed on the field a little, but some of what goes on in camp, like the hazing and stuff, probably is no different. ”
		— Kahlil Hill, Atlanta sixth-round pick

In homes across the country, an "all in the family" theme is playing out as prospects enact a cram course in NFL readiness by seeking out guidance from fathers, brothers, uncles and cousins who preceded them in the league.

Atlanta Falcons first-round tailback T.J. Duckett counsels daily with older brother Tico Duckett, who had a brief NFL career. Wide receiver Ron Johnson, a fourth-round choice of the Baltimore Ravens, has asked father Ron Johnson, the 1978 first-round selection of the Pittsburgh Steelers, for on- and off-field pointers. Ravens fifth-round tight end Terry Jones Jr. keeps bugging his father, a former offensive lineman for the Green Bay Packers, for information.

University of Florida wide receiver Jabar Gaffney, chosen by the Houston Texans in the second round, is drinking from an NFL fountain of knowledge that includes his father (former Jets wide receiver Derrick Gaffney) and godfather (Wes Chandler, a onetime star wide receiver with the Saints, Chargers and 49ers). A seventh-round pick of the Tampa Bay Bucs, tight end Tracey Wistrom of Nebraska finds himself calling his big brother, St. Louis Rams defensive end Grant Wistrom, a lot more frequently in recent weeks.

Only a few years ago, such family confabs might have been considered ordinary only in the closest of clans, but that is no longer the case for players chosen in the 2002 draft. With training camps looming, prospects such as Duckett, Gaffney and Graham have moved from the All-American squad to the All-Ears team.

"My brother used to tell me things that were going to happen and, even when some stuff occurred exactly like he said it would, I'd just figure it was a fluke," Duckett recalled. "I look back now and see how right he was, and now my attitude is like, 'OK, tell me more.' It's a big edge having him around, because he's been there and done that, and can relay all those things to me."

Auburn wide receiver Tim Carter, a second-round pick of the New York Giants, can take a "family affair" approach to new heights. Carter is kin, in varying degrees of separation, to former Major League Baseball standouts Dwight Gooden and Gary Sheffield and also to onetime NFL stars Ozzie Newsome, Darrin Nelson, Al Harris, Timothy Newsome and Carlos Carson.

Both before and after the draft, Carter relied on all his famous relatives for insights into life as a professional athlete.

The same is true for former Georgia Southern fullback Adrian Peterson, a sixth-round pick of the Chicago Bears, and the brother of current Indianapolis weakside linebacker Mike Peterson and cousin of onetime NFL wide receiver Freddie Solomon. Also for Doug Jolley, a former Brigham Young tight end chosen by Oakland in the second round, and whose father (Gordon) played seven years in the NFL and brother (Mike) played four years of professional baseball.

"If there's a resource like that, you'd be crazy not to use it, because you discover pretty quickly you're going to need every advantage you can get," said Atlanta sixth-round pick Kahlil Hill, a former Iowa wide receiver whose father, J.D. Hill, was a solid wideout for the Buffalo Bills. "The game may have changed on the field a little, but some of what goes on in camp, like the hazing and stuff, probably is no different."

Indeed, there are enormous cultural differences between the young NFL players seeking counsel and those offering it. Daniel Graham, for instance, grew up in southeast Denver, an upper-middle class neighborhood with little stress. His father, a successful salesman, provided a solid living and foundation for the family, and about the toughest decision that Daniel Graham faced in his first 18 years was his choice of scholarship offers.

Tom Graham, on the other hand, was raised in Los Angeles in the '60s. He can recall riots in which he was shaken down by the police, remembers the assassinations of Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr. and demonstrations over the war in Vietnam, and still flashes back occasionally to the civil unrest which marked that bleak chapter of this country's saga.

He long ago imparted the lessons of that period to his children. Now it is time for a little football talk from a father whose NFL career concluded the year that Daniel Graham was born and who paid only fleeting attention to the sport immediately after his retirement. It wasn't until Tom Graham took Daniel to Mile High Stadium to meet old friends such as Lawrence Taylor and Marcus Allen that the youngster decided his dad was a somebody.

Now he is the some buddy to whom Daniel Graham looks for advice about the training camp which lies ahead.

"Whatever he knows, I want to know, all of it," Graham said after the draft. "All those old stories don't seem so boring anymore."

Len Pasquarelli is a senior writer for ESPN.com.