The Rules Change When It's Your Son
Shedeur Sanders, double standards, and the story America keeps telling.
If you’re a sports fan, you already know the headlines. But if you’re not — or even if you only caught the surface — you might have missed the deeper story unfolding here.
Either way, take a few moments and read this — because, while on the surface, it may look like a sports story, it’s really a story about America — about perception versus reality. And in America, especially for Black men, perception often becomes reality — a harsher, heavier reality, where the benefit of the doubt is a luxury you rarely receive.
There is a ritual in America almost as old as the game itself: watch a young Black man rise, and then look for ways to humble him.
Shedeur Sanders entered the 2025 NFL Draft with everything the system is supposed to reward — talent, discipline, resilience. He left it not as a top-five pick, not even as a second-round choice, but a fifth-rounder. 144th overall.
Not because he couldn’t play.
Not because he couldn’t lead.
Not because he lacked the numbers — he threw for over 4,100 yards, 37 touchdowns, with a 74% completion rate.
Better numbers, in fact, than quarterbacks drafted before him this year.
Better numbers than Eli Manning had when his father, Archie Manning reportedly brokered Eli’s future from a podium, deciding for him that San Diego wasn’t worthy, and sending him to New York instead.
No — Shedeur Sanders fell because of something else.
Something quieter.
Something older.
Something far more familiar.
They whispered about his interviews. They said he came across as “brash,” as “too confident,” as “entitled.” Maybe there’s some truth to it. Maybe he could have handled it better.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
But in America, when a young Black man carries himself with certainty, we don’t call it “self-assurance.” We call it “trouble.” We turn self-belief into a warning sign. We turn pride into a flaw.
And not just for the young. It starts early — but it follows Black men all their lives. Confidence, independence, audacity — qualities that are celebrated in white boys, white men — are treated like threats in Black boys, Black men. Especially when the man standing behind you is Deion Sanders — a father who dared to love his son loudly, publicly, unapologetically. Especially when the legacy looks like him.
We saw it before, didn’t we? When Archie Manning fought for Eli, it was legacy.
When Deion stands up for Shedeur, it’s “ego.”
When young white quarterbacks exude swagger, it’s charisma.
When young Black quarterbacks exude the same, it’s arrogance.
It’s the same playbook.
The same story.
The same lie.
And it’s not new.
Cam Newton celebrated touchdowns and was called a showboat. Baker Mayfield celebrated, and it was called passion. Lamar Jackson was told maybe he should switch positions. Josh Allen was told he just needed more coaching.
Justin Fields had his work ethic questioned without cause. Mac Jones had his faults glossed over.
The double standard has always been there — and every time a Black quarterback stands tall, the system looks for a reason to sit him back down.
And let’s be honest about something else, too. Many of the men who made these draft decisions — who wrung their hands over Shedeur’s confidence — are the very ones who openly support Donald Trump: a man more arrogant, more selfish, and more bloated with ego than any twenty-one-year-old athlete could dream of being.
So when Trump starts sounding like the voice of reason about how unfairly a young Black man is being treated, you don’t just have a football problem.
You have a soul problem.
And there’s an even deeper irony hiding inside all of this. Deion Sanders has spoken warmly about Trump in the past. He’s defended Trump’s leadership, praised his policies, and aligned — knowingly or not — with a movement that insists systemic racism is just a myth. And yet here he stands, watching his son become a living, breathing example of the very system that so many of them claim doesn’t exist.
Trump posted about Shedeur’s draft slide, calling NFL owners “stupid” for overlooking a kid with “phenomenal genes” and a future full of greatness. And for once, he wasn’t wrong. Even if he didn’t understand the depth of what he was saying.
Shedeur Sanders’ fall wasn’t about ability. It wasn’t about readiness. It was about a culture — inside the NFL and outside of it — that still feels the need to remind Black boys, Black men, no matter how polished, how talented, how prepared:
Know your place.
But here’s the thing: Shedeur doesn’t need their blessing to rise. He comes from people who know how to build greatness out of thin air. He comes from a father who built an empire out of doubt. He comes from a legacy that doesn’t wait for permission. And he will rise — maybe slower than he should have, maybe angrier than he needed to be — but rise he will. Because the ones they try the hardest to humble are always the ones they fear the most.
Watch him.
Good morning, Don,
I hear you. When you have the skills, color shouldn't matter, but here it is. While reading this story, those heart strings start pulling about the unfairness of it all. I believe he will persevere and face this adversity with grace.
If his father "built an empire out of doubt", apparently his doubt wasn't serious enough to see what a racist party Trump leads and how it would systematically use a "chainsaw" to fire black men and women at top positions in the government and military... . And of the course, the only reason Trump tweeted about his son is because he needed the black vote and wanted to reward his father for his support...
Meanwhile, Trump's Heritage Foundation is abolishing black history month and rewriting school textbooks.
Apparently, becoming wealthy is one thing. Having the kind of healthy doubt that Descartes proposed is an entirely different thing.
Apart from that: yes, systemic racism thrives again today. Because the GOP makes it more SYSTEMIC than ever, hardwiring it once again into how the government operates. We WILL defeat them as many times as needed!
YES WE CAN!!