Depending who you ask, Shedeur Sanders is either the next John Elway or the next Johnny Manziel.
He is either the best quarterback to ever put on a helmet, or is drastically overrated, a product of NIL hype and flash.
He’s either a perfect NFL prospect, or he has a noodle arm and he can’t run.
He is either the most electric player in CU history, or he’s a stat-padding grandstander who couldn’t win the big game.
Everyone seems to have an opinion about Shedeur (even more so now that his number will be retired at CU—leap-frogging countless CU greats—after leading his team to a 13-12 record over two seasons.) But no matter how you feel about it, one thing is true: Sheduer will soon find himself in a new football home. The NFL Draft is next week.
Whatever team selects Shedeur, when he packs his bag, gets on that Southwest flight out of DIA, and crams into that middle seat, it will represent the first time in his life that his father, the enigmatic Coach Prime, will not be walking in next to him.
Shedeur said at the NFL Combine that wherever he goes, he changes the culture. But everywhere he’s gone, he’s been with his dad, so the credit to the change of culture can’t be Sheduer’s.
The magnitude of Deion’s presence is hard to quantify, and must have, at times, been difficult for Shedeur to keep up with. But he did keep up. And he’s been able to excel. To be the action point for his dad’s mouthpiece. To deliver on his father’s promises. To fulfill his dad’s prophecies. They worked in tandem—the coach and the quarterback—and manifested an incredible football journey together. But now their time on the same football team has come to an end, and 32 NFL teams are asking the same question:
How will Shedeur perform without daddy around?
As my old coach Gary Kubiak used to say, “We’re fixing to find out!”
But where will that next step be?
Tennessee? Cleveland? New York? Las Vegas? New Orleans? Pittsburgh? Los Angeles?
Depending who you talk to, Shedeur will either be a Top-3 pick, or may fall out of the first round altogether. It’s hard to know who to believe right now, because everyone is lying about their intentions.
Regardless, being a Top-3 pick is a huge accomplishment. It means a lot of money and a lot of attention. And for Shedeur, it would be the ultimate “I told you so” moment for all of the haters and the doubters. All of the receipts will be pulled out and the watch will be held up to the camera and the feeling will be, well—we did it!
As special as that would be, that’s not the moment that I want for Shedeur. Not because I’m a hater, but because I want him to have a good NFL career, and not an exciting draft night. A quarterback’s success is about the team around him. How is your defense? How is your running game? Your coaching staff? Your ownership? Your culture? If a whole team full of grown ass men are waiting for me, a college kid, to come in and “change their culture”, then I might be in the wrong place.
So for the sake of Shedeur’s NFL career, I hope he slides. I hope he’s disappointed on draft night. I hope he has to sit there with the perfect suit on, and, yes, the perfect watch, and see Roger Goodell awkwardly hug player after player not named Shedeur Sanders.
As Shedeur sits there, looking down at his watch, the picks go wizzing by. He looks at his phone—but it’s all silent. The cameras will zoom in on him. The talking heads won’t be able to shut the fuck up about it. Shedeur’s lip will curl up and his eye will start to twitch. The camera will pan to his loved ones who are trying not to show it—the heavy disappointment that’s creeping in. The realization of the lies they were told by coaches and GMs who promised they would draft him. Their faces flash through Shedeur’s mind like a deck of cards, all of those dishonest NFL men simultaneously becoming enemies, and this moment—this profound moment of spite—the origin story to his NFL greatness.
Just like Aaron Rodgers.
Just like Drew Brees.
Just like Tom Brady.
Just like Joe Montana.
They all slid, too. Even Patrick Mahomes “slid” to #10, and Lamar Jackson slid to the last pick of the first round, #32.
Aside from the blow to the ego, slipping in the draft can be the greatest gift a young quarterback can get, because you’re slipping past the worst teams in the league. Every pick that passes you by is another loser you won’t get stuck with. And with every one of those losers that doesn’t select you, you get closer and closer to a winning program. Closer and closer to a culture that you don’t have to change. And that, not your college career, is what will determine your fate as an NFL quarterback.
While it’s a huge moment to get drafted first overall, that also means you’re going to the worst team in football. It will be a team in turmoil, probably with an inexperienced coach and a lackluster roster. It’s hard to succeed in a place like that, no matter how talented you are. The NFL is hard enough already, the last thing Shedeur needs is the cards stacked against him. Because Coach Prime will no longer be around to reshuffle the deck.
