By Darryl Jacobs, Contributing Writer
The NFL Draft is more than a media event. It’s the summit of a lifelong grind, where private dreams become public moments of validation. For hundreds of young men, it marks the culmination of years of silent work and sacrifice. But during the 2025 NFL Draft, that sacred moment was turned into a public humiliation for quarterback Shedeur Sanders—and in the process, it exposed a deeper truth about the culture we’ve created.
More Than a Prank—A Pattern Emerging
Prank calls around draft day aren’t new. Some players have recalled harmless jabs from close friends or family trying to lighten the mood. However, a more disturbing trend has emerged in recent years: mean-spirited prank calls from strangers disguised as entertainment but engineered for humiliation. This trend, which seems to have gained momentum with the rise of social media and the increasing demand for viral content, is a troubling reflection of our society’s shifting values.
Shedeur Sanders’ case wasn’t the first. Several other prospects have come forward with similar stories of being duped during one of their lives most emotionally charged weekends. But Sanders’ situation went viral—and with reason.
Midway through Day 3 of the draft, a video circulated of Sanders answering a phone call that appeared to be the call. Relief and then confusion flooded the room. By the time the call ended, Sanders was perplexed. The call was orchestrated by the son of an NFL coach and shared online for views. It wasn’t a private joke. It was a public spectacle. This wasn’t just a prank. It was a deliberate act of harm and humiliation, an injustice that should stir a sense of moral outrage in all of us.
When Confidence Becomes a Bullseye
Part of what made Sanders an easy target was the brand that brought him notoriety. As the son of NFL Hall of Famer Deion “Coach Prime” Sanders, Shedeur entered the draft under a powerful spotlight. Throughout the pre-draft process, he and his father made headlines for their candid, confident approach—eschewing traditional draft rituals, skipping certain meetings, and publicly declaring where he should or shouldn’t go. To some, this confidence was refreshing. To others, it was arrogance, and that’s where the trouble begins.
Some of the criticism Shedeur received during the draft process was, in truth, some self-inflicted—the product of bold messaging and an unwillingness to conform to the NFL’s often unspoken codes of humility. But here’s the key distinction: Criticism of someone’s approach is fair. Publicly mocking someone’s pain is not.
The Fine Line We Keep Crossing
In response to the prank, the NFL fined the Falcons $250,000 and the coach involved $100,000—an acknowledgment that this was more than a lapse in judgment. It violated professional standards and, more importantly, human dignity. But the punishment raises a harder question:
How did we get to where someone’s lowest moment became a punchline?
We are witnessing the weaponization of virality—a growing culture where likes outweigh empathy and where the public is no longer a witness—but a participant—in personal collapse. And it’s not just athletes—it’s everywhere.
Shedeur’s Silence Speaks Louder
Despite the wave of commentary, Shedeur Sanders has said little. Those around him say he’s returned to the work—training, preparing, letting his performance do the talking. That restraint is its form of power. He doesn’t need to clap back. He needs to continue being exactly what critics feared he could be: resilient, composed, and undeniable.
The Teachable Moment
What happened to Shedeur Sanders isn’t just about football. It’s about the erosion of boundaries between content and humanity, a phenomenon that is increasingly prevalent in our digital age. The Sanders’ prank is a stark reminder of how quickly we confuse ridicule with relevance and how we tolerate cruelty as long as it’s entertaining. This blurring of lines between personal lives and public entertainment is a concerning trend that we must address.
The prank wasn’t funny. It was a warning reminder that, in a time when we have more access to people’s lives than ever, we need to reflect on how we use that access. It’s a call for introspection, for each of us to consider our role in this culture of humiliation.
Final Thought
We can challenge someone’s choices and debate their draft status. But the moment we stop seeing them as people and start seeing them as content, we lose something far more valuable than a game.
Shedeur Sanders will recover. He’ll play. He’ll lead. And he may even outlast his critics.
But will we learn?
