Football, in its purest, most violent form, isn’t played on a spreadsheet. It’s a chaotic, violent test of will. It lives in the dark trenches where 300-pound men try to erase each other’s existence, and on the lonely islands where a cornerback’s heartbeat is the only sound louder than 50,000 screaming fans.

We spend the entire spring obsessing over arm length and cone drills, yet every Sunday we learn the same lesson: The stopwatch can’t measure the fight in the dog. The best players aren’t always the ones the analysts projected; they are the ones who simply refuse to be denied. The overlooked. The grinders. The ones you have to drag off the field.

These are “My Guys” this year.

D’Angelo Ponds, CB, Indiana

Let’s get the not-so-large elephant in the room out of the way: D’Angelo Ponds is 5’9”. In an NFL obsessed with “prototypical” 6’2” boundary corners who look like Greek gods, Ponds looks like he’s in the wrong huddle.

But turn on the tape.

Ponds doesn’t just play; he inflicts himself on wide receivers. He is a 170-pound buzzsaw that spends sixty minutes a game trying to dismantle the confidence of anyone wearing a different jersey. If Ponds were three inches taller, we’d be talking about a top-10 lock—a generational cover man. Instead, teams will overthink it. They’ll look at the height and ignore the fact that he spent last year turning the Big Ten into a private no-fly zone.

Outside of a slugfest with Ohio State’s Jeremiah Smith—a matchup that felt like a heavyweight title fight—Ponds has been an eraser. He is a fluid, twitchy technician who understands leverage better than the guys who wrote the coaching manuals. He doesn’t just trail receivers; he wears them like a second skin.

For the NFL general manager sitting in a draft room in April: Stop looking at the ruler. Get yourself a guy who competes like his life depends on every snap. Ponds is a tone-setter.

Skyler Bell, WR, UConn

You need to pop to stand out at UConn. You aren’t playing in front of the bright lights of the SEC every week. You’re in the trenches of independent football, earning every single yard.

Skyler Bell didn’t just earn yards this year; he conquered them.

A Biletnikoff finalist who proved that talent will find its way to the surface regardless of the logo on the helmet, Bell is the ultimate “security blanket” with a lethal edge. He is a violent route-runner, a player who uses his hands and hips to create separation like a surgeon with a scalpel. But what separates Bell from the track stars is what happens when the ball is in the air.

He hauled in 20 of 37 contested targets this past season. Think about that. In a “50/50” situation, the math favored Bell nearly 60% of the time. He has this uncanny, predatory sense of where the ball is and a refusal to let anyone else touch it. When he tucks the ball, he transforms. He’s not just a receiver; he’s a North-South punisher who searches for contact rather than sprinting for the boundary. Bell is the guy you want on 3rd-and-8 when the pass rush is closing in, and you need someone to make a play in traffic.

Lee Hunter, DT, Texas Tech

In a league that is increasingly becoming a horizontal game of speed and space, Lee Hunter is a glorious, 330-pound throwback. He is the immovable object that makes the “unstoppable force” look silly.

Watching Hunter play is like watching a boulder roll downhill. He is an anchor of pure, unadulterated strength. When Hunter sits in a gap, that gap no longer exists. He has this rare “knock-back” power; the moment he initiates contact, the offensive lineman is instantly on his heels, fighting a losing battle against physics.

But he isn’t just a space-eater. Hunter possesses a surprising, explosive burst for a man of his displacement. He’s not just holding the line; he’s penetrating it. He collapses pockets from the inside out, forcing quarterbacks to flee into the waiting arms of edge rushers.

In the Senior Bowl, considered an “All-Star Game” for the draft prospects, he was a dominant entity—so much so that he’s likely to be discussed as a surefire first-round pick now.

If you want to fix a soft defense, you start in the middle. You start with Lee Hunter.

Makai Lemon, WR, USC

I usually try to stay away from the “blue-chip” talent in these columns. I’d rather highlight Day two prospects or find the diamond in the rough.

But with Makai Lemon, resistance is futile.

And yes, the reports of him “bombing” his Combine interviews are concerning…if you believe them. I have not yet.

So, let’s move on.

Lemon was the Biletnikoff winner for a reason. In a season where he had to compete against the likes of Jeremiah Smith and the aforementioned Bell for the hardware, Lemon stood alone. He is the quintessential “crafty” slot receiver taken to its absolute evolutionary peak.

He is a YAC machine, a player who treats every touch like a personal challenge to the opposing secondary. Lemon understands spacing with a veteran’s intuition; he finds the soft spots in zones like he has a GPS to the end zone. He is “undersized” by the old-school standards, but he plays with a ferocious, chip-on-the-shoulder intensity.

He has “safe hands” in the way a bank vault is safe. If the ball is in his vicinity, it’s his. But it’s the creativity after the catch—the shimmy, the sudden acceleration, the refusal to go down on the first contact—that makes him a nightmare for defensive coordinators. He was the heartbeat of the USC offense and will be the “get out of jail free” card for an NFL quarterback the moment he steps on a pro field.

Come April, general managers will inevitably talk themselves into “potential,” drafting athletes who look great in spandex but shrink when the hitting starts. Let them chase the unicorns and the testing warriors. The real game isn’t won in a gym; it’s won in the dirt.

These four players represent the violent, beautiful reality of football. They are the identity changers—the ones who turn 50/50 balls into guarantees and trenches into graveyards. You can keep the prototypes and the spreadsheet darlings. I’ll take the guys who treat every snap like a street fight.

Don’t overthink the measurements. Draft the heart. Draft the violence. Draft the dogs.

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Five years into an NFL running back's career, the league has usually made its verdict: you're either a household name commanding touches and headlines, relegated to a committee role sharing carries, or you're fighting for roster spots as teams look toward the next draft class. The position rarely offers middle ground — you're either the feature back, part of the rotation, or you're not.

Yet Chuba Hubbard has carved out something rarer: the productive middle. He's not generating MVP buzz or among the top-selling jerseys, but he's also not scrambling for carries. He’s simply been getting the job done in relative obscurity.

No fanfare. No headlines. Just production.

The 25-year-old enters 2025 not just as the Panthers’ starter, but as one of the most quietly effective backs in football. The Canadian-born back’s fourth NFL season was a coming-of-age performance — nearly 1,200 rushing yards, double-digit touchdowns, and a string of games where he looked like the only functional piece in a broken offense. While others faded around him, Hubbard found daylight. Consistently and decisively.

For anyone unfamiliar with how Hubbard became one of the NFL’s most overlooked players — or for anyone overdue for a reminder — here’s a closer look at one of football’s best-kept secrets.

How’d Hubbard end up in Carolina?

Long before he was Carolina’s steadying force, Hubbard was a human highlight reel in Stillwater. The Alberta native at Oklahoma State led the nation in rushing in 2019, exploding for over 2,000 yards in just 13 games. That season wasn’t just statistically dominant — it was unforgettable. One of his finest outings came against a Baylor team led by then-head coach Matt Rhule. Hubbard rushed for 171 yards and two touchdowns.

Apparently, it stuck.

Two years later, Rhule, who was Carolina's head coach at the time, found himself in the fourth round of the 2021 NFL Draft with a decision to make. That's when a text popped up on his phone from his wife, Julie, who must have watched that 2019 game too.

The text read: “Please take Chuba Hubbard.”

The staff made the call, and Hubbard became a Panther. The message was passed along to him afterward, and it became one of those oddly endearing NFL stories. But beneath the charm was something deeper: someone in that building remembered what Hubbard could do when the ball was in his hands.

Turns out, they were right.

From backup to backbone

The early years in Carolina were complicated. Hubbard arrived as a developmental runner behind Christian McCaffrey, and his rookie season showed flashes — nearly 800 total yards, six touchdowns — but also inconsistency. His vision needed sharpening, and his pass protection was raw. And when McCaffrey was healthy, there weren’t many carries to go around anyway.

But Hubbard stayed ready. And when McCaffrey was shipped to San Francisco in 2022, the door opened. Slowly, methodically, Hubbard walked through.

By 2023, he was the team’s leading rusher. By 2024, he was its identity.

That identity crystallized in Week 16 against the Arizona Cardinals — 25 carries, 152 yards, two touchdowns, and a walk-off score in overtime. On that final play, Hubbard showcased everything that’s made him quietly indispensable: patience, vision, agility, and burst. He hesitated just long enough for the field to open, cut to the right, planted, and accelerated with nothing but green turf in front of him. Twenty-one yards later, he slow-stepped into the endzone and was immediately surrounded by a throng of black and blue uniforms.

At the season’s end, Hubbard totaled 1,195 rushing yards and added 11 total touchdowns. The numbers are impressive, but they don’t capture the context. He ran behind one of the league’s most injury-ravaged offensive lines. His quarterback situation was largely unstable, albeit Bryce Young's late-season renaissance provided some offensive continuity. Yet under those circumstances, he managed to average 4.8 yards per carry while accounting for nearly a third of Carolina’s total yardage over the final two months of the season.

Ask anyone who watched the Panthers closely: Hubbard was the offense.

So when Carolina signed him to a four-year extension last fall — worth a little north of $33 million with significant guarantees — it didn’t come as a surprise. In a season where little went right, Hubbard gave the front office something rare: a clear answer at a cloudy position.

The extension seemed like perfect timing — until you remember the Panthers also spent a second-round pick on Jonathan Brooks just months earlier.

In April 2024, the Panthers drafted the Texas running back, widely considered the draft's most complete back. The catch? Brooks was rehabbing a torn ACL from his final college season. At the time, this seemed like a calculated risk worth taking, especially before Hubbard's breakout year.

Then disaster struck twice. Brooks tore the same ACL again in Week 14 against the Philadelphia Eagles, just his second game back. For the second time in 15 months, he'd spend a year rehabbing instead of running. Last month, the Panthers officially placed him on the PUP list, ruling him out for the entire 2025-26 season.

Brooks complicates the long-term picture, but the short-term remains clear: this is still Hubbard's backfield. And if 2024 was any indication, the Panthers are perfectly fine with that.

Hubbard has proved he’s anything but a placeholder

What makes Hubbard's emergence so compelling isn't just his numbers — it's his path to them. In a league that typically sorts running backs into clear categories, he's thrived in the space between stardom and obscurity. He isn’t the fastest back in the league. Or the biggest. Or the flashiest. But he is, increasingly, one of the smartest and most consistent.

His footwork is better now. His patience is evident. And his understanding of blocking schemes — zone or gap — is what allows him to hit holes decisively, before they close. There’s a subtlety to his game that doesn’t show up in fantasy stats or highlight reels. But it’s there, especially when you see the difference between Hubbard and everyone else the Panthers trotted out at running back last season.

He’s not just surviving. He’s thriving.

Now, with a second-year coaching staff and a reimagined offense, the question becomes whether Hubbard is the long-term solution or merely a bridge to whatever Brooks becomes.

But maybe that question misses the point. Because every time Hubbard is asked to prove himself, he does. Every time the league seems to look past him, he looks straight ahead. And maybe the better question isn’t whether he’s the long-term answer, but why we keep asking.

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That’s the full stat line — a résumé that’s just begun. Yet somehow, he’s already a fixture atop way-too-early 2026 mock drafts. Innately. The surname draws attention. The highlights tantalize. The legend looms.

I get it.

But when you strip away the hype, we still don't really know how good he is. And that, not the buzz, is what’s most interesting.

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OK, Manning might be really, really good. That much is fair. He’s shown it — in flashes. He made smart reads, threw with timing and accuracy, showed off his surprising athleticism and speed, and looked in control during his limited playing time. He's not some nepotism beneficiary. He can play. He has elite NFL traits. You get why the buzz exists.

But he needs to play more.

This is where football fans get ahead of themselves. We don’t just love potential anymore — we crown it. We wrap it in projections and declare it ready for the biggest stage before it’s even taken root. Manning is the latest example. The last name. The pedigree. The press. He was anointed before he even picked a college. And now that he’s taken a few meaningful snaps and didn’t trip over himself…He must be him, right?

It’s understandable. The football world loves a good quarterback story, and there’s none more made-for-TV than the young Manning. His last name is the golden ticket. But he, despite all that noise, has taken the slow road, so he hasn’t had a ton of time on the field. He sat his freshman season behind Quinn Ewers with no complaints. He waited. He learned. When Ewers missed time late in the 2023 season, Maalik Murphy was the next man up, not Texas’ heralded savior in waiting.

Then Murphy transferred, Ewers returned, and Manning moved up to No. 2 on the depth chart.

When Ewers missed two games with a torn oblique last season, Manning stepped in and...well, let's be honest about what we saw. His first start against Louisiana-Monroe had some struggles — two interceptions — despite facing below-average competition. It didn’t matter, though. Texas still ended up bludgeoning them 51-3. In his second start against Mississippi State, he looked much better, completing 26 of his 31 passes for 324 yards and two scores. He looked much calmer in the pocket, working through his progressions and showing off his accuracy on short, intermediate, and deep throws. Texas won 35-13. But again, the competition was lackluster, to say the least. So yes, there were flashes in those games, moments where you could see the potential everyone talks about. But two games against subpar competition aren't exactly a definitive résumé for all this NFL draft hype.

So let’s not pretend like we’ve already seen the full picture. The body of work is too small. You need to see more than 95 dropbacks before inserting him into the 2026 No. 1 pick discourse, especially when he has three years of eligibility remaining.

Because even if you want Arch Manning to be the guy — and who doesn’t? — you have to understand the Mannings themselves have never rushed greatness. His uncles, Peyton and Eli Manning, stayed for four seasons at Tennessee and Ole Miss before opting to declare for the NFL draft. They didn’t let hype dictate development. They developed before moving on. That patience, that process, is part of the family blueprint.

It should be for Arch, too.

We’ll see more of Manning this fall, as he’s now locked in as Texas’ starter. We’ll see how he handles pressure and what happens when SEC defenses throw disguises at him that he's never seen on film. You don't find that out in spring games. You find that out when you're down seven with two minutes left, and 90,000 people are screaming for your head.

There’s a version of this story where he becomes everything he’s projected to be — a franchise quarterback, a Manning who charts his own path to stardom, maybe even becoming the best one yet. I hope so. I hope he has a great career. But right now, he’s still becoming. He’s still inexperienced.

That’s the part we should focus on right now.

Not the draft slot that may be one, two, or three years away. The actual growth. The in-game reps. Because that’s what’s missing right now — volume. To accurately project, you need data. A lot more of it than he currently has.

So let’s cool it for a moment. Yes, Manning looks like he could be special, and we’re all excited to see more from him. But until we see it, the early NFL projections are merely guesswork.

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It was supposed to be a coronation. Since the start of the 2024 season, Shedeur Sanders wasn’t just projected to go early in the 2025 NFL Draft — he was marketed as a quarterback you build a franchise around. His name alone sparked debate, sold jerseys, and lit up social media. And yet, when the cameras started rolling in Green Bay, and commissioner Roger Goodell and co. strode to the podium night after night, Sanders sat. Waiting. Watching.

Until finally, at 2:19 p.m. Saturday on Day 3, the Cleveland Browns chose him. Pick No. 144 in the 5th round. It ended a free fall that no one would have dared predict just six months ago.

Now, the real story begins.

What happened?

There wasn’t one sole reason why Sanders fell. It was a slow bleed — a hundred small cuts behind the scenes — the kind of fall that happens when perception snowballs, and no one in the room wants to be the one to stick their neck out.

Supposedly, it was a myriad of things — a confluence of perception, politics, and old-school scouting stubbornness.

First, he skipped critical offseason checkpoints. Despite accepting an invitation to attend the East-West Shrine Bowl, he didn’t participate. He was also a non-participant at the NFL Combine. He gave no real chance for NFL teams to see him up close in a workout setting, save for his pro day and a private workout held for the New York Giants a week before the draft. He also refused visits with certain teams. His draft process was perhaps unlike any we’ll ever see from a quarterback again. Sanders gave teams very little to go on.

Second, there were whispers — true or not — about his interviews. Some teams came away believing Sanders was “cocky.” “Entitled.” “Disinterested.” NFL decision-makers, overwhelmingly old-school and uncomfortable with players who chart their own paths, didn’t exactly race to embrace Sanders’ brash confidence. Fair? Maybe. Or maybe not. That’s for you to decide. But the NFL has always been more comfortable with quarterbacks who nod politely and say “yes, sir” than ones who build empires before they take a snap. Sanders — the brand, the NIL star, and the nationwide celebrity — was a curveball.

And deep down, you have to wonder: if his last name wasn’t Sanders, would those same criticisms have even stuck?

Third, and perhaps most importantly, some just didn’t see a transcendent trait on tape. He’s accurate, sure. He’s poised. He’s productive. He’s tough as nails. But he isn’t a 4.4 runner. He doesn’t have the strongest arm. He doesn’t throw lasers off his back foot across his body. He’s not the athlete Cam Ward, Jaxson Dart, and Jalen Milroe are.

So, when the stakes were highest and when jobs were on the line, the NFL did what it always does when it feels a little unsure.

It passed.

Why the Browns finally pulled the trigger

It wasn’t out of desperation. It was about value — pure and simple. It didn’t matter that the Browns took Oregon quarterback Dillon Gabriel two rounds earlier, which, to contradict the value discussion for a second, seemed like a bit of a reach.

For months, Sanders was talked about as a sure-fire first-round pick. A potential franchise quarterback in waiting.

And yet, when he kept falling… when the fourth round ended… when the fifth round ticked by and Sanders was still on the board, the Browns made the kind of move smart organizations make: they bet on talent at a discount.

But make no mistake: this pick didn’t come without tension.

When the cameras cut to Cleveland’s draft room after Sanders was selected, the energy was noticeably flat. No roaring applause. No fist pumps. No standing ovations you sometimes see when a front office lands “their guy.”

Now, war room footage isn't always gospel — sometimes the NFL's TV timing is off. Sometimes reactions are muted for various reasons. But it's hard to ignore the possibility that this wasn't a unanimous decision.

Ownership involvement? You can’t rule it out.

Sanders brings a different kind of value, not just on the field, but in the marketing department, too. His name alone moves the needle. He’s a star who can generate attention, sell tickets, and fill seats in a town that’s been desperate for quarterback hope.

Whether it was the front office, the coaching staff, or Dee and Jimmy Haslam themselves pounding the table, it’s clear the Browns decided the upside was too tempting to pass up any longer.

There’s no risk here. No expectations. No pressure. Sanders doesn’t have to be the savior. He just has to compete. Cleveland saw an opportunity to grab a player with starting-caliber upside for pennies on the dollar. A quarterback room that was already crowded could afford to bring in another lottery ticket, especially one with Sanders’ pedigree.

What Sanders has to prove

Nothing will be handed to Sanders in Cleveland. But the Browns didn’t just bring him in to ride the bench, either. He’ll be dropped into a true quarterback competition, where survival isn’t promised and yesterday’s accomplishments mean nothing.

Sanders will enter a crowded quarterback room, competing with former first-round pick Kenny Pickett, who has a chip on his shoulder fresh off a year riding the bench in Philadelphia, and 40-year-old Joe Flacco, the ageless wonder who somehow keeps finding ways to win games. Also in the mix is fellow rookie Gabriel, the 5-foot-11 lefty who played a ton of college football, ending his six-year collegiate career in Eugene.

Sanders won’t be competing for marketing deals anymore. He’ll be competing for a job. A spot on the Browns’ 53-man roster.

On the field, Sanders must prove he can speed up his progressions, make good decisions, and get rid of the ball when there’s nowhere to go — something NFL scouts openly criticized during his Colorado tenure. Every single rep will be judged. And every missed opportunity will be ammunition for someone else to climb the depth chart over him.

In the locker room, he'll need to shed any perception of entitlement and earn respect through grinding quietly.

That’s what Sanders will have to embrace: real, ruthless competition. No one cares about his last name now. Every quarterback in that room wants what he wants.

It’s worth acknowledging that, after Sanders’ flaws were dissected on national television for all to formulate their own opinion on, he appears unfazed. He knows what he has to do. And it seems like he’s not shying away from it.

“I’m blessed,” Sanders said in an interview after he was drafted. “I know I have to clean up some things in my game. The main thing is proving [head coach Kevin] Stefanski and Mr. Berry right for picking me.”

His draft position isn’t the be-all and end-all. It’s actually just the beginning.

It’s now Sanders’ time to write his own story.

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He’s 6-foot-3, 241 pounds of the unconventional. Of confusion. Of contradiction. A tight end with a smaller frame, a power slot who isn’t fast by any means. A record-breaking pass catcher with the gait of a teenager playing backyard football.

Harold Fannin Jr. is one of the NFL draft’s mysteries this year.

In an era where tight ends are finely tuned chess pieces — 6-foot-6 red zone skyscrapers, inline bulldozers, or Kyle Pitts-shaped unicorns — Fannin is none of those. He doesn’t jump off the screen with elite athleticism. He doesn’t pancake defensive ends in the run game. His game isn’t played above the rim. It’s played in the dead zones of a defense’s awareness, where linebackers hesitate and safeties peek into the backfield. And it works.

God, does it work.

At Bowling Green, Fannin carved up the MAC effortlessly. In 2024, he led all FBS tight ends in receptions (117), yards (1,555), and touchdowns (10) and broke the single-season tight end receptions record. Sure, some were H-back dump-offs within eight yards of the line of scrimmage. Some were manufactured touches. But watch the tape: he’s also winning on choice routes, slants, and seams. Fannin was the offense. And it wasn’t just against MAC opponents, either. Fannin torched Penn State’s No. 7-ranked pass defense for 11 catches, 137 yards, and one touchdown.

His historical season wasn’t a one-off.

Down in Mobile, Ala., under the Senior Bowl microscope, Fannin had a chance to show his ability up close. To show his movement skills and his capability against non-MAC defenders. The result? He ran circles around the doubt.

He looked quick. Sharp. He had suddenness in and out of his breaks that’s more difficult to detect on tape. He still ran slightly duck-footed, but there was nuance — a snap at the top of his routes, a feel for leverage against bigger, faster defenders. And he won. Repeatedly. He didn’t dominate the highlight reels, but that’s never been the point. He played his game — subtle, spatial, unshaken — and proved that the tape isn’t a fluke. It’s not to be shrugged off. It travels.

This encapsulates the Fannin conundrum. His stride is unorthodox — upright, almost rigid. So much that it casts doubt on his ability at the next level. Yet, he moves efficiently. He separates. He finishes.

Scouts are torn about what he projects to be because, well, they are always with someone like this. Someone who doesn’t fit a category.

Some see a hybrid weapon — an NFL mismatch waiting to happen, a flex tight end who can feast in the short game and live in the seams. A H-back with strong hands and YAC ability. Others see a gadget. A MAC-made illusion who will vanish the moment NFL safeties get a read on his speed.

Yet even that question feels too small. Too binary. Fannin is what happens when you strip football of pretense, when you stop asking if a guy can run a 4.4 and start asking if a guy gets open, when you realize that maybe route polish and catch radius aren’t everything — that maybe the best receivers are the ones who understand space (e.g., Cooper Kupp, Amon-Ra St. Brown) better than the people trying to contain them.

That’s Fannin. He understands space. He understands tempo. He understands that you don’t need to be fast — you just need to arrive at the right time. Blocking isn’t his calling card. Not yet. He’s not moving defenders off their spot or owning leverage on combo blocks. But there’s a reason — and it’s not just his frame. Fannin is only 20 years old. You see it in the way he engages: the technique is raw, the timing inconsistent.

At worst? Maybe he’s Isaiah Likely, another tight end who doesn’t check the boxes but still finds a way. Likely came out of Coastal Carolina at 6-foot-4, 245 pounds — nearly identical to Fannin — and didn’t wow with testing numbers either, running a 4.82 forty at his pro day. But he understood space. He won as a receiver, posting 912 yards and 12 touchdowns his senior year, and carved out a role in Baltimore as a mismatch piece in the slot. He wasn’t a dominant blocker. Neither is Fannin. But both have that same hybrid DNA — not unicorns, not bulldozers, not burners — just guys who get open, stay open, and punish defenses that forget about them.

At the Scouting Combine, Fannin ran a substandard 4.73 forty when many, including myself, expected better. But that’s not the be-all and end-all. Watch the film. Trust your eyes. Fannin knows how to get open. He knows how to finish. He knows how to make a defense look silly and a scout look stupid.

That’s what makes Fannin so damn interesting.

Not because he’s built like Antonio Gates or moves like Travis Kelce. But because he isn’t, and he doesn’t.

Because he’s everything and nothing like a modern tight end.

Because he shouldn’t work — but he does.

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However, that belief doesn’t rest on Nix alone, the quarterback who turned skepticism into silence over the course of his 2024 rookie season, leading the Broncos to their first playoff appearance since 2015. It stretches further to Sean Payton and what he’s still chasing in Denver — a final act worthy of his résumé, not a retread of Russell Wilson’s slow-motion implosion.

Nix was never a mystery box, never the athletic dice roll Anthony Richardson was a year before. No 4.4 forty. No jaw-dropping off-platform throws designed for social media loops. What he brought instead was a sense of order. Control. A quarterback who plays on time, thinks fast, and avoids the catastrophic. And now, in entering year two, the Broncos believe they’ve found a foundation — something they haven’t had since Peyton Manning left the building.

Payton didn’t inherit this one. He chose him. Hand-picked him. Sure, Nix was the remaining quarterback of the consensus top-six still on the board. But I believe Nix was Payton’s guy all along. He didn’t blink. He saw in Nix a quarterback who could process fast and distribute faster. The kind of player who doesn’t need to throw across his body 35 yards downfield to impress because he’s already hit the hot read and moved the chains. Drew Brees, Payton’s long-time quarterback, was similar in that sense. He’s second behind the consensus GOAT Tom Brady in all-time passing yards.

For Nix, what followed wasn’t flashy — it was effective. He brought the offense to life, not with chaos, but with calm. His numbers were impressive — 3,775 yards, 29 touchdowns, and 12 interceptions — and so was his steadiness. Few mistakes. Good rhythm. The pocket presence of a quarterback who’s been hit before, booed before, rebuilt before. Nix gave Denver something it hadn’t seen in years: functional quarterback play that looked like it belonged in an NFL offense.

That’s what Payton was chasing when he took the job. Because before Nix, the Broncos were in a death spiral of quarterback purgatory. Brock Osweiler, Trevor Siemian, Paxton Lynch, Case Keenum, Joe Flacco, Drew Lock, Teddy Bridgewater, and then Wilson. Each new name brought less confidence. Then came the desperation. The press conferences, the “Broncos’ Country, Let’s Ride,” and the power struggle. Payton took a sledgehammer to all of it in year one — publicly, privately, and philosophically. And Nix? He was the quiet answer.

He’s 25, not 21. He’s thrown roughly 2,600 passes between college and the pros. He’s not a project — he’s a player. At Oregon, he was the nerve center of a 40-point-per-game offense. In Denver, he’s turning into something more sustainable: a quarterback who plays the position, not just performs it.

But the Broncos still need to help him. 29-year-old Courtland Sutton won’t be around forever, although his career-year this past season (81 catches, 1,081 yards, and eight touchdowns) will surely keep him in Denver for the near future. Marvin Mims Jr. flashed, but the ceiling remains theoretical. Conversely, the offensive line is great, finishing first in pass block win rate (74%) and run block win rate (75%). They project to be great next season, too. So, Denver now needs to continue surrounding Nix with playmakers if it wants to take him and the offense from efficient to explosive. Because for all his positives, Nix doesn’t raise all boats. Right now, he needs the water level to rise with him.

And in the AFC West, that margin is razor thin. Patrick Mahomes is still Patrick Mahomes. Justin Herbert now has Jim Harbaugh, and the Chargers are going to start punching defenses in the mouth. The Raiders? Still a mess, but that could change fast with the offseason addition of Geno Smith. Nix doesn’t need to be the best quarterback in the division. But he has to keep pace. And if last year was any indication, he’s not just here to manage the game. He’s here to win it.

So yes, this is still a bet. Although now it’s a bet with returns. Denver finally exhaled at the conclusion of last season. The franchise finally saw what servicable quarterback play looked like. And Payton? He got his proof of concept. If Nix builds on what he started, he will present a mile-high ceiling. Not theoretical. Not a mirage. Real.

But the air thins quickly in this league. Nix was polished, poised, and prepared — but so was Mac Jones once upon a time. What Denver got last season was functionality. What it still needs is firepower. The real question isn’t whether Nix can run an offense; it’s whether he can take over one.

Can he go blow for blow with Mahomes in a December shootout? Can he erase a two-score deficit in the fourth quarter with something more than screens and slants? The early returns are promising, but the danger lies in mistaking competence for stardom. The NFL eats quarterbacks alive if that’s all they are. That’s the problem with efficiency: it can become predictable. At some point, in a big moment, the Broncos are going to need Nix to do something unscripted, something uncomfortable, something that makes the league stop and say, Wait…did he just do that?

The good news? He showed flashes of brilliance last season. And he doesn’t need to do it every week. The Broncos just need Nix to extend plays without holding the ball for too long and inviting disaster, finding that sweet spot between recklessness and risk-aversion, trusting his eyes when he’s out of the pocket. Watch the tape on how Brees navigated muddy pockets in his career. He wasn't mobile, but he was slippery and decisive. Nix has better athleticism to work with — he needs to weaponize it.

The Broncos are headed in the right direction. They didn’t stumble into a Super Bowl window overnight, but they’ve finally stopped digging the hole. And in a loaded AFC, that counts. If the defense holds serve, and the front office finds Nix another weapon, this team should flirt with ten wins. Maybe more. Maybe another wild card. Maybe something dangerous if they hit December hot.

For Bo and the Broncos, the grace period’s over. Defensive coordinators have film. Payton’s out of surprises. The league adjusts. It always does. And now it’s on Nix to hit back with something sharper, quicker, bolder. Because in a division where Mahomes is inevitable and Harbaugh is coming, standing still is just another way to fall behind.

The margin for error is small. The expectations are growing. But if what we saw last year was the baseline, Denver might finally have a quarterback it can build around — not just believe in.

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Joe Milton III, New England’s sixth-round selection last year, has played just one NFL game. One. He spent the entire season buried on the Patriots’ depth chart, a developmental project on a team that drafted their hopeful franchise quarterback — North Carolina’s Drake Maye — with the No. 3 overall pick. And after just one season, it certainly looks like Maye is the future. But in that one game, that meaningless Week 18 contest versus the Buffalo Bills, Milton shined.

Milton didn’t just play well — he commanded the moment. Thrust into action early after Maye’s brief cameo, he completed an efficient 22 of 29 passes for 241 yards and a touchdown, adding another score with his legs. The Patriots walked away with a 23-16 victory, a win that inadvertently knocked them out of the No. 1 pick in the 2025 draft. Patriots fans lamented the loss of security for a potential Travis Hunter or Abdul Carter selection — rightfully so. But the real story was the sixth-round rookie’s play.

Yes, the Bills primarily rolled out their backups. But that doesn’t diminish what Milton put on tape — tape I sifted through after I found out teams held interest in the Patriots’ No. 2 option. He was decisive, composed, confident, and aggressive, slinging darts to every level of the field.

His most tantalizing moment? On the run, Milton fired a perfectly placed frozen rope to Kayshon Boutte for a 48-yard touchdown.

Surely, Milton’s raw capabilities, young age, and incredibly strong arm would be more intriguing than an elder option like Aaron Rodgers, who is dragging out his decision with the hope the correct one will lead to an unlikely renaissance.

The Pittsburgh Steelers have yet to address the quarterback position while waiting for Rodgers’ decision. Ultimately, I believe his decision will come soon, given the Giants’ recent signing of Russell Wilson. He’ll likely choose the Steelers, but the Vikings are a dark-horse team that could lure the 41-year-old signal caller away from Steel City. Milton’s strong arm would be a perfect fit in Pittsburgh with the field-stretching duo of DK Metcalf and George Pickens.

Another team that would make sense for Milton is the New Orleans Saints. Derek Carr is 33 years old and didn’t look great this past season. The Saints were one of the worst offenses in football. They desperately need an infusion of youth and upside at the quarterback position. Carr's contract makes him immovable in the short term, but Milton could provide the perfect developmental bridge. His rocket arm would pair beautifully with Chris Olave and Rashid Shaheed's deep-threat capabilities.

I’d mention the Titans, but as the draft process moves along, the feeling is that Cam Ward is a shoo-in to be the pick at No. 1. The Miami product has seemingly separated himself from Shedeur Sanders during the pre-draft circuit, dazzling scouts with his combination of arm talent and improvisational skills. Tennessee's regime, led by Brian Callahan, seems all-in on finding their franchise quarterback, and Ward has fans in that building. However, who’s to say they won’t take Carter or Hunter still? Could Milton serve as a bridge quarterback with upside if they prefer the former or the latter? Perhaps.

Right now, reports are saying that the Patriots would be looking for a second or third-round pick in return for Milton. Of course, teams might balk at sending a day-two pick for a former sixth-rounder with one start. But in a QB-desperate league, traits often win out. Milton is what regimes are looking for in a franchise quarterback: young, strong-armed, and athletic.

Wouldn’t it be more intriguing to see what 25-year-old Joe Milton could become instead of betting on Rodgers turning the clock back just two years removed from a torn Achilles? Not to mention, Rodgers will likely command north of $20 million per year compared to Milton’s $1 million per year.

Yet, we continue to wait for the Rodgers saga to end. It’s been milked out for far too long now. For teams that come short in the sweepstakes, Milton remains an intriguing alternative.

The Patriots aren’t in any rush to trade Milton — good No. 2 quarterbacks are invaluable in today’s NFL. But if the right offer comes, New England won’t hesitate to move him. And for a QB-needy team, the real question isn’t what Milton is right now — it’s what he could become.

Wouldn’t that be worth the gamble?

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And there’s a likelihood — a high likelihood, in fact — that said team is picking in the top three.

Be that as it may, while it could be argued against, it wouldn’t be particularly shocking.

The consensus forecast among analysts — and really anyone with scouting-calibrated eyes — is that this quarterback class is bleak. Yet in a draft abnormally lacking can’t-miss prospects, two may be selected in the top five.

Granted, it’s usual for quarterbacks to go early in the NFL draft. Since 2000, there have only been three drafts (2022, 2013, and 2000) where a quarterback wasn’t selected in the top 10. Kenny Pickett, picked No. 20 to Pittsburgh in 2022; E.J. Manuel, picked No. 13 to Buffalo in 2013; and Chad Pennington, picked No. 18 to the New York Jets in 2000, were the first quarterbacks taken in those drafts.

Pickett and Manuel are widely considered busts, while Pennington turned in a solid 11-year career that included two playoff wins.

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The NFL's modern, pass-happy era has consistently proven that championship aspirations live and die with quarterback play. Organizations like the Kansas City Chiefs, Buffalo Bills, Cincinnati Bengals, Baltimore Ravens, and Philadelphia Eagles have flourished after finding their franchise signal-callers.

The desperation to find "the guy" often leads teams to reach in the draft, as evidenced by the countless first-round quarterback busts who've set their franchises back half a decade or more. It's a cruel paradox — teams need elite quarterback play to compete, yet rushing to draft one out of desperation often leads to even more devastating consequences than waiting. The former is the driving thought in war rooms. That results in teams constantly drafting quarterbacks higher than their boards rank them.

ESPN content producer Paul Hembo analyzed first-round NFL draft picks' success rates — a hit-miss rate — based on whether players secured a second contract with their drafting team. His data spans from 2000 to 2019 — 20 years worth of drafts. Of 56 quarterback selections, 26 were deemed a “hit,” while 30 were considered a “miss.”

A mere 46% hit rate.

Yet, against these sobering historical odds, the 2024 quarterback class has transcended conventional expectations, with each first-round QB selection showing franchise-caliber promise in their rookie campaign. Perhaps most notably, the success of Michael Penix Jr. (Atlanta Falcons, No. 8) and Bo Nix (Denver Broncos, No. 12) — who many scouts didn’t have a first-round grade on — raised eyebrows. Now? GMs Terry Fontenot and George Paton look prescient in their aggressive first-round selections.

Last year was an anomaly.

This year’s class is certainly not alike.

Echoes around the NFL continue to reverberate that the top two quarterbacks in this year’s class, Cam Ward and Shedeur Sanders, would be QB7 and QB8 in last year’s.

That’s why, if you’re a team in need of a QB, picking atop the 2025 draft is perilous.

E.g., the New York Giants, who have the No. 3 pick.

The Giants missed on Daniel Jones at No. 6 in 2019. Then, after consistent abysmal play, the Giants rewarded Jones with a four-year, $160 million contract. (It’s still hilariously sad. Poor Giants fans.) Selecting the wrong quarterback yet again would set the franchise back even more. However, due to the desperation for somewhat adequate play at the position, general manager Joe Schoen may feel pressured to find an answer sooner rather than later.

As for the Tennessee Titans, who pick No. 1. While I wouldn’t describe their QB situation as bad as the Giants, they’re faced with a tough decision: draft a hopeful franchise quarterback or draft the closest thing to a blue-chip prospect. It’s hard to ignore newest general manager Mike Borgonzi’s comments about “not passing on a generational talent.” Many, myself included, assumed that implied Abdul Carter or Travis Hunter. I still do. But the Titans’ brass reportedly met with Sanders at the East-West Shrine Bowl, and ESPN’s Pete Thamel reported that Ward is “likely” to be the Titans’ pick, based on conversations with scouts and team executives at the Senior Bowl.

All of it could be a smokescreen. But where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

Sure, Ward and Sanders are tantalizing. The unknown always is. It’s fair to believe that both could develop into long-term starting quarterbacks. Ward is a strong-armed, big-play machine. But he often searches for the big play too much. Sanders, while not as physically gifted and with a less-live arm, is incredibly accurate and can move the ball downfield precisely, incrementally.

And it’s fair to question Sanders's maturity level from an anecdotal standpoint. He carries himself with the swagger you'd expect from Deion's son, though sometimes it borders on excessive pageantry. His postgame celebrations at Colorado — flashing his six-figure Richard Mille watch to an animated Buffs crowd — were viewed as deliberate flexes. Teams will need to get a feel for Sanders throughout the draft process to determine whether he’s fit to be the face of a franchise.

Beyond Ward and Sanders, the QB class is dull. Hence, needy teams may feel inclined to take one of the top two early.

There is always free agency, albeit, like the draft, a weak group. After his Pro Bowl season with the Minnesota Vikings, Sam Darnold is the cream of the crop. He completely rejuvenated his career under head coach Kevin O’Connell and is deserving of his imminent contract. The next best is Justin Fields. Young? Yes. Athletic? Yes. Playmaker? Yes. Proven? No.

Alright, alright. I can already hear Bears fans shouting from the Skydeck at Soldier Field. The attachment Bears fans have to Fields is interesting because, well, he did so little for the franchise. His limited production and inconsistent play cast warranted doubt on his ability to thrive in a starting role in 2025.

A quarterback-needy team will convince themselves Ward or Sanders is their franchise savior. Maybe they turn out to be. Maybe they don’t. And it may be a reach. Or it may not in their eyes. Nonetheless, there is detectable skepticism regarding this QB class.

Ranking the 2025 QB class

1. Shedeur Sanders, Colorado - 6’2”, 216 pounds

An extremely accurate and precise passer. Sanders can surgically take his team downfield. He plays old-school football — driving the ball out of the pocket. He throws a beautiful ball. He’s an average athlete who can make plays with his legs when needed. However, questions arise when it comes to holding the ball too long. That’s easily coachable.

2. Cam Ward, Miami - 6’2”, 223 pounds

An above-average athlete who makes jaw-dropping plays outside the pocket. Ward combines rare improvisational skills with a lightning-quick release and a strong arm. As said earlier, he seeks the big play too often, leading to some head-scratching decisions. He’s also too nonchalant at times — standing flat-footed in the pocket is just one example.

3. Will Howard, Ohio State - 6’4”, 236 pounds

Howard has a prototypical frame. His national title run was nothing short of impressive. We got to see how he fared against the top defenses in the nation. He looked phenomenal. He has the physical tools, accuracy, arm strength, and athleticism teams look for in a QB. Before that run, he struggled with some inconsistencies.

4. Jaxson Dart, Ole Miss - 6'1 7/8”, 226 pounds

Lane Kiffin's offense perfectly showcased Dart's combination of athleticism and arm talent, as he consistently made plays both from the pocket and on the move. His aggressive mentality leads to some forced throws into tight windows, but his confidence and willingness to challenge defenses vertically open up the entire field. He may have the best deep ball in the class. His footwork is sloppy at times, especially when under center.

5. Kyle McCord, Syracuse - 6’2 1/2”, 224 pounds

After starting at Ohio State before transferring to Syracuse, McCord had an extremely productive season for the Orange, tossing 4,779 yards and 34 touchdowns with just 12 interceptions. Like Howard, he has a prototypical frame and an NFL arm. He’s just a complete pocket passer. You won’t find him making too many plays with his legs.

6. Dillon Gabriel, Oregon - 5'10 1/2”, 202 pounds

A seasoned veteran who's seen it all, Gabriel brought his talents from UCF to Oklahoma and finally to Oregon. His quick release and accuracy in the short-to-intermediate game are his calling cards, though his smaller frame and average arm strength raise some concerns. Gabriel's experience and football IQ make him an intriguing prospect.

7. Quinn Ewers, Texas - 6’2”, 210 pounds

The former five-star recruit possesses a natural throwing talent that’s enticing. He has good arm strength and the ability to throw from multiple platforms. His decision-making improved in his final season at Texas, showing better awareness of when to take chances and when to play it safe. However, inconsistent mechanics and footwork still lead to accuracy issues that must be ironed out at the next level. I think it would’ve benefited him to stay in college another year.

8. Jalen Milroe, Alabama - 6'1 1/2”, 220 pounds

Perhaps the most explosive athlete in the class, Milroe can take over games with his legs while possessing elite arm strength. His accuracy isn’t great, though. He had high expectations coming into 2024 but was underwhelming.

9. Riley Leonard, Notre Dame - 6'3 3/8”, 210 pounds

While Leonard doesn’t have the best arm, his passing improved drastically throughout the season. He’s a tough-nosed QB who puts his body on the line every play. He’s a playmaker with his legs. He needs development, but with his athleticism and frame, he could be a starting quarterback.

10. Kurtis Rourke, Indiana - 6’3”, 223 pounds

The younger brother of NFL quarterback Nathan Rourke, Kurtis is a pure pocket passer with incredible accuracy in clean pockets. After transferring from Ohio to Indiana, he showed improved pocket presence and better decision-making against Big Ten competition. Give credit where it’s due — Rourke played the entire 2024 season on a torn ACL. That’s some tough s—t.

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Among the critiqued Philadelphia Eagles’ fanbase — the most ruthless, passionate, and tenacious people — one of the biggest “what ifs” in franchise history still finds itself at the center of discourse, despite the organization’s success since the draft-day blunder.

On April 23, 2020, the Eagles inadvertently gifted the second coming of Randy Moss to the Minnesota Vikings: LSU’s Justin Jefferson. Instead, they opted for TCU’s Jalen Reagor. Doug Pederson — head coach then — and general manager Howie Roseman went into the draft prioritizing fit rather than the better prospect. Jefferson was perceived solely as a slot receiver, while Reagor was an outside/speed receiver who could stretch the field vertically. That’s what the organization wanted, especially with two above-average tight ends occupying the middle of the field — Zach Ertz and Dallas Goedert — and Greg Ward coming off of a productive year in the slot.

The Eagles’ fanbase didn’t care about fit — they had been clamoring for Jefferson throughout the entire draft process. However, many Hail Mary readers know I had, in fact, not. I had been in the Reagor camp.

I own that. We all miss sometimes.

The 2020 NFL Draft was the COVID-19 draft. Without an in-person event, Roger Goodell announced selections from the comfort of his NFL-adorned and book-shelved basement. Draftees didn’t walk across the stage like in any other draft, and there was no fan attendance, albeit a good thing for Reagor. Philadelphia fans always make their way out to the NFL Draft. They travel largely. It’s fair to surmise that Reagor evaded a cluster of tumultuous boos for merely getting drafted, a selection he himself had no influence on. Certainly, there were boos, just none Reagor could hear from his watch party in Waxahachie, Texas.

Jefferson, selected one pick later, wouldn’t have received that reaction. No, the entire city of Philadelphia would have erupted with joy.

Since then, Jefferson has racked up 7,432 yards, 40 touchdowns, two First-Team All-Pro honors (2021, 2025), and two Second-Team All-Pro honors (2022, 2024). Conversely, Reagor has been traded once — ironically to the Vikings — and cut twice, once by Minnesota and once by the New England Patriots. The Eagles gave up on Reagor two seasons after drafting him; he failed to live up to the Earth-sized expectations the fanbase set for him after Jefferson’s rookie-year breakout.

If you’re going to pass on a player currently on the path to becoming an all-time great, it helps to correct your mistake with not one, but two elite receivers.

DeVonta Smith and AJ Brown.

Since becoming teammates in 2022, the duo has solidified themselves among the most formidable tandems in the NFL. They’ve combined for 8,042 yards and 52 touchdowns as Eagles.

Roseman got it right by trading up for Smith in the 2021 NFL Draft. It was a pick that sparked a new philosophy for the Eagles: build through the SEC, which he carried into subsequent drafts. Georgia’s Jordan Davis (6-foot-6, 332 pounds) in 2022 didn't perfectly align with the Eagles' traditional preferences for smaller, more athletic defensive tackles, but they took him because he was talented. Roseman then went back the Georgia well. The selection of Jalen Carter in 2023, despite character concerns that knocked him off countless draft boards, further exemplified this adopted talent-first approach. Carter was regarded by many analysts as the best prospect in the draft.

The Eagles' draft room suddenly transformed from a space of rigid parameters fixated on fit to one of flexibility and adaptation. In recent years, coordinators have learned to adjust their scheme to ensure a player’s capabilities are highlighted. It's a complete reversal from the Jefferson decision, where scheme fit trumped undeniable talent.

Now, the Eagles are heading to their second Super Bowl in three seasons. I’m not sure that happens if Jefferson is the pick in 2020.

The Jefferson decision still echoes throughout the city of Philadelphia. But in its wake, Roseman has done something greater — he’s turned the Eagles into a powerhouse, and has revealed a blueprint other owners will soon begin to follow.

Sometimes, the best lessons come wrapped in mistakes. For Roseman and the Eagles, that lesson changed everything.

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