I love Shedeur Sanders. I love Deion. I love the whole Sanders family.
So writing this isn’t easy — but it’s necessary. Because what happened to Shedeur Sanders on draft night wasn’t just surprising, it was a slow-moving warning we all saw coming… and chose to ignore.
By now, you’ve heard the stories. You’ve seen the reactions. Shedeur, projected by many as a Day 2 pick, didn’t hear his name until the fifth round. With the 144th overall selection, the Cleveland Browns ended his slide.
That sentence alone should feel wild. Because Shedeur Sanders is too talented to have lasted that long. This is a player with elite tools, NFL bloodlines, and one of the most decorated college football resumés of the last few years. But here’s the truth:
This wasn’t just about talent. This was about the interview. The fit. The feeling in the room.
The Interview Matters
A day before the draft, Todd McShay — Mel Kiper’s longtime right-hand man at ESPN — confirmed that the New York Giants specifically walked away disappointed after meeting with Shedeur. But it wasn’t just the Giants. Multiple teams had similar experiences.
Some of these insights came from named and respected voices. Others, like the two scouting breakdowns (shared above), came from longtime assistant coaches and GMs quoted anonymously — but their feedback was direct and brutally honest:
“The worst formal interview I’ve ever been in… He’s so entitled… horrible body language… blames teammates…”
– longtime NFL assistant coach
“He’s been so insulated… It’s going to be a culture shock… Everything’s been catered to him.”
– NFC scouting director
“He wants to dictate what he’s going to do… makes you feel small.”
– longtime AFC executive
In other words — the Shedeur that showed up in meetings wasn’t the Shedeur that fans saw on Saturdays. And when you’re about to tie your job, reputation, and locker room culture to a quarterback, that matters more than arm strength or stats.
It’s About Trust, Not Just Talent
Let me frame this another way:
Think about it like this: maybe you’ve been in a position where you had to decide who gets a job, a scholarship, or an opportunity. You get two candidates:
- Candidate A has an incredible résumé. Stellar references. Unquestionable talent.
- Candidate B has a good résumé. Good references. Solid ability.
On paper, Candidate A blows Candidate B out of the water.
But when it’s time for the interview, Candidate A shows up dismissive, unprepared, uninterested. They can’t answer basic questions, act like they can’t wait for the meeting to end, and offer no energy or investment in your vision.
Candidate B, meanwhile, is all in. They’re prepared. Thoughtful. They answer everything thoroughly. They listen. They engage. They ask great questions. They’re willing to spend hours talking if that’s what it takes to make you feel comfortable.
Now, when it’s your reputation on the line — when you have to go to your boss and recommend one of these two people — who are you betting your career on?
Even though Candidate A has the flashier résumé, if you’re honest, you have nothing good to say about your real-life interaction with them. Your boss meets them too — and they have the same experience. Suddenly, the paper trail doesn’t matter as much anymore. The energy, the attitude, the preparation — that’s what wins trust.
Candidate B gets the job.
Not because they were the most talented. But because they made the decision easy.
They made the boss comfortable putting their name, their reputation, and their career on the line for them.
That’s exactly what, by all accounts, happened with Shedeur Sanders during the pre-draft process — particularly with the Giants.
Reports suggest that Shedeur didn’t interview well. He wasn’t well-prepared. He didn’t do great answering football questions. He struggled on the whiteboard. The people who sat across from him — scouts, coaches, GMs — didn’t walk away feeling like they could stake their careers on him.
Now, let me be clear: this doesn’t mean Shedeur isn’t talented enough to succeed in the NFL. He absolutely is. Someone else will take a chance on him — and maybe they’ll get a star in return.
But when it comes to this team and this opportunity, he simply wasn’t the right fit at the right time.
That’s exactly what happened in this draft cycle. Tyler Shough was Person B.
The Saints Chose Love Over Potential
Let’s tell another story. One that happened behind the scenes — but shaped the decisions on draft night.
The New Orleans Saints have a brand-new coaching staff, led by first-year head coach Kellen Moore. They met Tyler Shough — a quarterback with a solid but unspectacular college career — at the Senior Bowl. Then again at the Combine. Then again during his 30 visit. Then again at his Pro Day.
One staff member even took Shough out for an extended dinner and heart-to-heart about the team’s future. They walked away loving the kid.
So when draft day came and Shedeur Sanders was still on the board, the Saints passed on him. They went with Shough. Because they were comfortable. Because they were invested. Because they knew the man they were getting — not just the talent.
We Heard the Warnings. We Just Didn’t Listen.
As fans, we heard the rumblings. The leaks. The whispers. But we dismissed them.
We told ourselves it was jealousy. It was racism. It was Deion backlash.
We said, “This can’t be real.”
And then, when Shedeur kept falling, we acted surprised.
But this wasn’t sabotage. This was scripture.
“Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.” – Proverbs 16:18
This was a legendary fall — not because Shedeur isn’t good, but because the process matters. Interviews matter. How you treat people matters. Will he bounce back? Absolutely. I believe in Shedeur. I believe in that family. I believe in redemption arcs.
But this draft process exposed something real.
Not about his talent — about his approach.
War Stories vs. Real Lessons
I can relate to his story on a personal level. Growing up, I idolized my father. He was a fighter — literally. An amateur boxer. A tough guy with legendary stories of schoolyard fights and neighborhood brawls. He would tell me about the special moves he used to win fights and how he carried himself with swagger and fearlessness.
I soaked those stories in — and I wanted to live them out.
I fought constantly as a kid. Won a lot of those fights, too. But I paid for it — suspensions, trouble at school, even having to repeat a grade. Not because I wasn’t smart enough — but because I was chasing an identity I thought I was supposed to live out.
I’m sure Shedeur grew up hearing his dad’s stories, too.
Deion famously disrespected the NFL Draft process — on his terms.
He showed up to the Combine in a track suit, didn’t stretch, blazed a legendary 40-yard dash, and called it a day.
He openly told teams he wouldn’t play for them. When asked to meet with teams he didn’t want to join, he would walk out of interviews after a few words.
He told the Detroit Lions that if they drafted him, his price would be so high they’d have to put him on layaway.
Deion could do that. He was Deion Sanders — a once-in-a-generation talent with the charisma and on-field dominance to match.
But Shedeur isn’t Deion. He’s Shedeur — immensely talented in his own right, but living in a completely different NFL era with completely different expectations.
And from everything we’ve heard, Shedeur tried to emulate Deion’s draft process, when what NFL teams really wanted was the exact opposite — humility, preparation, and openness.
It’s a hard lesson, but it’s a human one.
Shedeur Sanders will get his opportunity. He has everything it takes to succeed.
But what happened with the Giants isn’t about his lack of ability — it’s about the power of fit, comfort, and the lessons we sometimes have to learn for ourselves, even if they come from the people we admire most.
I don’t blame Shedeur fully. I don’t even blame Deion fully. I just know that what happened wasn’t a conspiracy — it was a wake-up call.
And for the Cleveland Browns, it may be the best thing that ever happened to them. Because if Shedeur Sanders can take this experience and grow, learn, and reframe his journey?
Then this fall won’t define him.
It’ll elevate him.
