There is a hilarious moment in Harold & Kumar go to White Castle that never fails to crack me up and now, unexpectedly, it also reminds me of Shedeur Sanders. In the movie, Kumar is sitting in an interview with a respected medical school. The interviewer, played with absurd deadpan by Fred Willard, is clearly an old-school bigot. As the interview unfolds, Kumar brilliant, self-aware, and done with this type of performative nonsense decides to light the whole thing on fire. He makes a mockery of the moment. He knows he doesn’t need this guy’s approval. He knows he’s good enough without it.
And just like that, it all clicked: That’s Shedeur Sanders.
When the 2025 NFL Draft rolled around, I couldn’t help but notice a slow, stunning freefall. Shedeur, once projected as a top-10 pick, watched as team after team passed on him not once, not twice, but four times. The buzz afterward was worse: anonymous NFL executives whispering to reporters that Sanders “didn’t respect the process.” That he acted like he was “above” it.
Above it?
I remember watching ESPN’s live coverage of the draft. They often cut to team draft rooms, supposedly the beating heart of football intellect. And in room after room, one thing stood out: 90% white faces. In a league where over half the players are Black, the front-office representation looked like a corporate boardroom from 1985. It was hard not to notice.
Now let’s be honest. Shedeur Sanders was raised by Deion Sanders a man who’s not just a Hall of Famer, but a cultural force. Prime Time didn’t just play the game; he reshaped it. He taught his kids to believe they belong not to ask permission. So when Shedeur shows up to draft interviews confident, polished, and unwilling to kiss rings, it shouldn’t surprise anyone.
Just like Kumar, Shedeur knew the script and chose not to read from it.
In both cases, there’s something cathartic in watching a brilliant young man reject the approval of a system that’s historically skeptical of people who look like him, sound like him, and carry themselves with the kind of self-possession that makes gatekeepers uncomfortable.
But here’s the twist: Kumar didn’t need Fred Willard’s blessing. And in the long run, Shedeur doesn’t need the NFL’s outdated notion of “process” either.
Because let’s face it how many of these NFL decision-makers have been wrong over and over? They missed on Tom Brady. They passed on Lamar Jackson. They dismissed Jalen Hurts. The league loves to preach meritocracy but too often rewards compliance over courage, familiarity over authenticity.
And Shedeur? He’s betting on himself. He’s betting that talent, preparation, leadership, and self-belief matter more than knowing which privileged NFL scout or executive to flatter.
Will it work? I think it will. Shedeur Sanders might become a superstar quarterback not because he played the game but because he refused to and the fact that 32 NFL teams passed on him four times probably means less than nothing if you really think about it.
