It began, as all reckonings do, not with the explosion but with the waiting—the slow circling of the clock’s hands, the shivering hush of breath held behind closed war room doors, the weight of hope and dread pressing through the fiber of each calloused executive hand. This was the night of the choosing, the night where fortunes are mortgaged, where legacies are wagered, where mistakes, glorious and catastrophic, are committed to paper and screen and history. And on this night, the first round of the 2025 NFL Draft unfolded not as a linear story but as a living thing—swerving, lunging, breathing.
They called Cam Ward first, called him up from Miami with the weight of Nashville on his shoulders, a man with McNair’s shadow at his back and nothing but time and collisions ahead of him. The Titans did not blink. They knew this was no longer about patience. It was about resurrection. About salvation. About building a cathedral atop the bones of broken seasons.
And then Cleveland, reckless and beautiful as always, took Travis Hunter—the best player in the draft, a man who moves between positions and physics like a ghost in cleats. They chose him to catch touchdowns, though he might have been born to prevent them. It was both daring and desperate, and in Cleveland, those two things are often the same.
The Giants came next, stacking violence upon violence with Abdul Carter, an edge rusher who bends like a stormfront bending the horizon. Brian Burns. Dexter Lawrence. Kayvon Thibodeaux. Now Carter too. New York will not win with finesse. They will win—or lose—through brutality.
The Patriots, stubborn and sober, took Will Campbell to plug the hole in their line, a man who will not dazzle but will endure. Jacksonville, wild and swaying, chose Ashton Jeanty, a runner who will turn their offense into a thresher machine—cutting, slashing, unstoppable if the field tilts just right.
And so it went: Membou to the Raiders, Warren to the Jets, Walker to the Panthers. Each pick a brushstroke on a canvas already soaked with old mistakes and fleeting dreams.
When New Orleans stunned the night with Jaxson Dart at nine, the room cracked open. Dart is wild promise, beautiful chaos. He will need time, and the Saints have it, or at least they have nothing better.
The Bears, pragmatic to the bone, grabbed Kelvin Banks Jr., a mauler to protect Caleb Williams’ rise. The 49ers, ever loyal to their creed of trenches first, seized Mason Graham—the human battering ram.
Dallas found fire in Matthew Golden’s speed. Miami, desperately patching its defensive backfield, took Jahdae Barron. Indianapolis gambled wisely on Will Johnson, a corner with All-Pro dreams if his health holds.
Atlanta went for sacks and mayhem with Mike Green. Arizona sought versatility and hope in Mykel Williams. Cincinnati plugged the run with Derrick Harmon, and Seattle, ever looking for foundation stones, trusted the blue-collar brilliance of Grey Zabel.
Each name called was a prayer. Each announcement a gamble whispered into the roar of a crowd that forgets last year’s picks by morning.
Tampa Bay, steadfast and sensible, added Emeka Egbuka—a receiver who will catch everything and complain about nothing. Denver found a chess piece in Jahdae Barron. Detroit, loving the hard path, took Tyleik Williams to anchor their line.
Matthew Golden found himself in Green Bay, where receivers are grown slow and hardened by frost. Houston made no pick but brokered tomorrow’s war chest with clever trades. The Colts gave their young quarterback a tight end—Tyler Warren, the big-body safety net he never knew he needed.
And then came the dreams and gambles: Travis Hunter in Jacksonville, Josh Simmons to Kansas City’s battered line, Conerly Jr. to a desperate Washington.
By midnight, the names were sealed. The die cast. The hope ignited. The errors waiting in the soil like seeds.
And so it ended—or rather, so it began again—the slow, brutal, beautiful cycle of choosing and waiting, of hope and erasure, of futures written in ink and erased in pain. The draft does not bless. It only beckons. And now the real work, the quiet, unseen work, begins.
FIRST ROUND PICK ANALYSIS
1. Tennessee Titans — Cam Ward, QB, Miami
They chose breath, legs, and a cannon with memory—a quarterback who throws like he’s been told this is the last time they’ll let him.
2. Jacksonville Jaguars (TRADE) via Cleveland Browns — Travis Hunter, CB/WR, Colorado
They chose duality, a mirror with hands and eyes, the player who changes shape and wins anyway.
3. New York Giants — Abdul Carter, EDGE, Penn State
They chose fire off the edge, the arc, the bend, the burst, the blur that turns first downs into fear.
4. New England Patriots — Will Campbell, OT, LSU
They chose a wall, thick-hipped and country-built, who’ll hold steady while others fall apart beside him.
5. Cleveland Browns (TRADE) via Jacksonville Jaguars — Mason Graham, DT, Michigan
They chose the engine room, a defensive tackle who chews space and splits double teams like bread.
6. Las Vegas Raiders — Ashton Jeanty, RB, Boise State
They chose fury in the form of patience, a running back who dances then detonates.
7. New York Jets — Armand Membou, OT, Missouri
They chose trench permanence, violence shaped into form, a tackle with anchor in the storm.
8. Carolina Panthers — Tetairoa McMillan, WR, Arizona
They chose reach, length, flight—hands in the sky and prayers answered in the red zone.
9. New Orleans Saints — Kelvin Banks Jr., OT, Texas
They chose roots, the kind of tackle who buries defenders like past regrets.
10. Chicago Bears — Colston Loveland, TE, Michigan
They chose the seam, the safety valve, the middle-field assassin to comfort the rookie king.
11. San Francisco 49ers — Mykel Williams, EDGE, Georgia
They chose the one who plays like gravity, pulling tackles off balance, bringing quarterbacks to their knees.
12. Dallas Cowboys — Tyler Booker, G, Alabama
They chose the gap-filler, the double-team destroyer, the future brawler of Jerry’s kingdom.
13. Miami Dolphins — Kenneth Grant, DT, Michigan
They chose mass with intention, the kind of man who erases space and gives speed a reason to exist.
14. Indianapolis Colts — Tyler Warren, TE, Penn State
They chose the red zone translator, the big target with quiet feet and violent shoulders.
15. Atlanta Falcons — Jalon Walker, EDGE, Georgia
They chose edge with purpose—quick hands, square hips, and the ability to collapse a pocket like a folding chair.
16. Arizona Cardinals — Walter Nolen, DT, Mississippi
They chose disruption—raw, unrefined, beautiful violence in the form of interior pressure.
17. Cincinnati Bengals — Shemar Stewart, EDGE, Texas A&M
They chose the one who hasn’t done it yet—but might do everything, and all at once, when it clicks.
18. Seattle Seahawks — Grey Zabel, G, North Dakota State
They chose glue, a player who makes all five linemen better by simply being beside them.
19. Tampa Bay Buccaneers — Emeka Egbuka, WR, Ohio State
They chose smooth hands, clean breaks, and the next man to keep Baker or whoever afloat.
20. Denver Broncos — Jahdae Barron, CB, Texas
They chose versatility, a DB who reads quarterbacks like sheet music and plays three spots without breaking stride.
21. Pittsburgh Steelers — Derrick Harmon, DT, Oregon
They chose trench churn, the kind of lineman who doesn’t sack but suffocates.
22. Los Angeles Chargers — Omarion Hampton, RB, North Carolina
They chose rhythm, the runner who breaks angles and tackles and hearts on Sundays.
23. Green Bay Packers — Matthew Golden, WR, Texas
They chose the streak down the sideline, the post route that opens everything, the weapon to whisper hope into Love.
24. Minnesota Vikings — Donovan Jackson, G, Ohio State
They chose balance, a man who pulls with purpose and strikes with power and doesn’t need to say a word about it.
25. New York Giants (TRADE) via HoustonTexans — Jaxson Dart, QB, Mississippi
They chose competition, a quarterback who plays like the fire’s already behind him.
26. Atlanta Falcons (TRADE) via Los — James Pearce Jr., EDGE, Tennessee
They chose the ghost off the edge, the kind of blur that haunts offensive coordinators for months.
27. Baltimore Ravens — Malaki Starks, S, Georgia
They chose the chess piece, the safety who sees four moves ahead and makes every tackle feel preordained.
28. Detroit Lions — Tyleik Williams, DT, Ohio State
They chose bulk with burst, a D-lineman who hits like a truck and moves like a whisper.
29. Washington Commanders — Josh Conerly Jr., OT, Oregon
They chose the left tackle of tomorrow, the one who mirrors, anchors, and holds the edge of the world.
30. Buffalo Bills — Maxwell Hairston, CB, Kentucky
They chose speed that runs with fear, a corner who bites routes and breaks rhythm.
31. Philadelphia Eagles (TRADE) via Kansas City Chiefs — Jihaad Campbell, LB, Alabama
They chose the field general, sideline to sideline, teeth bared, cleats laced, always ready.
32. Kansas City Chiefs (TRADE) — Josh Simmons, OT, Ohio State
They chose trust, the tackle who will rise or fall with Mahomes and whose job is to ensure we never find out.
The Night the World Forgot Shedeur Sanders
And so the lights dimmed but never truly went out, and the war rooms closed but never truly rested, and the picks were made, stamped onto the pages of the future with trembling hands and swelling hearts, and as the names were called—Cam and Travis and Abdul and Will and Mason—they wrote a first round that bent itself into shapes none of them had fully foreseen, not when this long march had begun under the August sun the year before.
For twenty-nine picks they waited for his name.
For thirty-one they whispered it.
For thirty-two they held their breath as if the draft itself would remember.
But no.
Shedeur Sanders, who had once been the consensus, the no-doubt, the sure thing—the quarterback blessed by blood, by highlight, by the storm he created at Colorado—was left standing on the other side of that great closing door, a name not called, a future not yet signed into history.
He had risen, once, as a golden son of fall Saturdays, slinging touchdowns against defenses too slow to comprehend him, too small to catch him. He had graced magazine covers, headlines, podcasts, every living room debate from Atlanta to Anchorage. They had crowned him without hesitation. They had declared him the future with the kind of certainty that leaves no room for doubt—until doubt, slow and creeping, finds a way in.
The draft does not care about what you were supposed to be.
The draft does not remember how loudly the world cheered for you in September.
The draft only listens to the whispers—the ones made behind closed doors by men with checklists, with film, with fear.
And so it was that Shedeur Sanders, the prince without a kingdom, stood unchosen at the end of the first day. His game dissected, his mechanics questioned, his patience picked apart like vultures on a battlefield they once called his. They said he held the ball too long. They said he trusted his arm too much. They said he was too much like his father—too proud, too stubborn, too sure that the world would move to his rhythm.
And maybe they were right.
Or maybe they were simply afraid to believe in him when belief no longer cost them nothing.
Because it is easy to believe when the leaves turn gold and the passes spin perfect into a mountain sky. It is harder when the clock ticks and the salary caps loom and every mistake gets carved into a ledger that men lose their jobs for.
They forgot, somehow, that greatness is not born in comfort. It is not measured by neat footwork or perfect 3rd-down progressions. It is built, like Rome, with pain and defiance. And Shedeur, for all his style and all his noise, had never lacked for defiance.
So they passed.
One by one by one.
And the night ended without him.
Without his smile. Without his father’s tear. Without the crowning moment the world once wrote for him with such certainty.
But he is not erased.
No.
He waits now, coiled tight, gathering the names of the teams that passed, gathering the names of the quarterbacks they chose instead. He will walk into his second day not humbled—but sharpened. And somewhere, in the bone memory of the game, in the soul of every street corner player and every overlooked star, there is a knowledge older than draft rooms:
It is better to be remembered as the man who was doubted and proved them wrong than the man who was crowned and proved them right.
The draft ended, but the story did not. Not for Shedeur Sanders. Not yet.
Not ever.
Joseph Angel | Chief NFL Draft Analyst for TheNSR Network
