After Day 1 of the NFL draft, I took aim at the way Shedeur Sanders was covered, which created the perception that something truly stunning was taking place when the Colorado quarterback wasn’t picked in the first round. Of course, in reality there was nothing surprising about this at all, given that Sanders was not universally seen as a first-round-caliber prospect.
After Day 2, it’s time to discuss the larger cottage industry of Sanders Inc., which also deserves blame, in particular for the reason Sanders was not selected in the second or third rounds, specifically. While I would still not call it stunning, what is surprising is that a player like Oregon’s Dillon Gabriel was taken before Sanders. This now brings in the near certainty that what is taking place is about more than just football skills.
Sanders the prospect was always a kind of psychological inkblot assessment for clubs. If a team loved him, it would interpret his brashness and attitude and material flashiness as traits of leadership and confidence; evidence that he could handle a big market. If a team despised him, it would view them as extensions of self-centeredness, greed and immaturity. This was the equation every quarterback-needy team had to work through before the opening round.
However, when the immediate need section of the draft gives way to a later-round phase that prioritizes the enticing nature of a higher developmental ceiling—something many thought Sanders didn’t have—or, especially at the quarterback position, the ability to be an unseen, unheard, unnoticed understudy, the assessment on Sanders completely changes.
Assuming that the Pittsburgh Steelers and Aaron Rodgers have some kind of unofficial pact (or that Pittsburgh is prepared to pay the Atlanta Falcons’ ridiculous ransom for Kirk Cousins), there are no teams looking for a starting quarterback now. And if a team is looking for a good backup, it’s incredibly difficult to believe that Sanders will fit that bill.
We can debate the fairness of this statement and whether we have become the very people we despised from a night ago, but much of what I’m about to say is impossible to refute. Shedeur’s father, the legendary Deion Sanders, had said publicly before the draft that he would prevent certain teams from taking his son. He has also posted on social media—to an account with 1.8 million followers—a guarantee that Sanders would go in the top five and accused a former NFL quarterback (Dan Orlovsky, who, as a former fifth-round pick, may actually end up going higher than Shedeur at this point) of “hating.” In addition, a cavalcade of Deion sycophants, friends and globbers-on, each with their own massive social followings, have turned the idea of teams not selecting Shedeur into some kind of anti-celebrity witch hunt. To name just two: Stephen A. Smith and, yes, the sitting President of the United States.
When considering the sheer magnitude of it all, it’s not hard to put oneself in the shoes of a general manager who is just one perilous decision away from being fired and imagining that person throwing up both hands, saying screw this. It’s not hard to look at the Sanders draft party, which was more heavily produced than Battlefield Earth, the pro day—excuse me, The Showcase, complete with VIP seating and a logo/slogan (WE AIN’T HARD 2 FIND)—the second logo (a modified dollar sign), the references to being “legendary” and the explosive reaction to any perceived slight, and seeing nothing but an endless migraine.
This isn’t a conspiracy. It isn’t blackballing. It’s basic human decision making. Sanders doesn’t offer the untapped upside of someone like Alabama’s Jalen Milroe, for example. Because he has spent his career being maximized through a carefully curated process overseen by his father, there’s little evidence of some unrealized gold mine that will make the migraines seem worth it.
This was an entirely predictable chapter of this saga and one that was entirely avoidable, especially for a Sanders Enterprise that takes pride in conjuring images and projecting a desired portrayal. Deion once famously said that, “they don’t pay nobody to be humble,” which may have worked for one of the most incredible outlier athletes in football history. But for Shedeur, a fringe first-round prospect who needed to prove he was capable both of playing in the NFL and serving a franchise after having been served throughout the entirety of his football career, it was obviously the wrong note to play.
Instead of entering the process like a prospect with something to prove, he was coached to treat the process as if he were interviewing the teams that may select him Step Brothers–style. Outside of a tailored pro day in which he was throwing to the eventual No. 2 pick in the NFL draft, Shedeur didn’t put himself in a position to get uncomfortable. In lieu of providing some context to the caricature perpetuated through the family brand, there was a doubling down.
To me, that doesn’t sound like a bad prospect. It just sounds like bad coaching.
At this point, Sanders’s best bet will be to circumnavigate the remainder of Rounds 4–7 and get himself into undrafted free agency. There, Sanders, a bright young kid with an accurate arm, pocket toughness, the ability to play on schedule and good situational mobility, can market himself to a curious franchise completely stripped of this gaudy showmanship. You know, the kind of thing that would have made sense to do a few months ago.
