I’m far from a sports guy and couldn’t care less about the ins and outs of it. However, America’s favorite pastime is impossible to ignore.
The NFL Draft took place, and the idea of it has always met me with both love and hate, which is an odd relationship to have with anything or anyone.
What do I love about it? Seeing the joy that overcomes the drafted players when they are chosen. Watching their hard work, dreams, and dedication be rewarded, and witnessing them receive a pending contract to play for a franchise that promises millions and a better life.
What do I hate about it? I hate seeing how my young brothers are treated like objects. I despise how the brightest and most athletic talent sits there, panting, as their fate lies in the hands of a team’s selection. The soon-to-be professional player has no input on who chooses them or which team they suit up for.
To me, it has always felt like slaves waiting to be auctioned off. Think about it, picture the old images of slave masters picking their slaves, checking their strength, their stature, their teeth, and more to ensure they could withstand the pain they would soon endure.
When you look at it from a physiological standpoint, you can see how NFL participants are subjected to a form of modern-day slavery.
Shedeur Sanders is the son of NFL Hall of Famer Deion Sanders. He’s a football player with the promise of a stellar NFL career, much like his father. His name is on the lips and at the forefront of every football fan’s mind. Ironically, he hasn’t been drafted in the first round, despite being a bona fide sure thing.
Again, I don’t know much about sports, so I can’t tell you if he’s any good. But what I do know is that his name is always in the news regarding the sport he plays, and his reputation for being braggadocious seems to have ruffled a few feathers.
Writer Justin Tinsley wrote an article a few months ago addressing how Shedeur’s confidence and presence bother many. The “many” are often referred to as “critics.”
I’m not going to insult anyone’s intelligence by pretending otherwise; the critics are white America. Let’s not act like America hasn’t historically had an issue with Black confidence. We’ve seen this before: same script, different cast. From 2Pac to Ali, to Allen Iverson, and now Shedeur.
Again, I’m not a sports fan, but I’m aware of the rumblings regarding Shedeur’s off-the-field persona that began back in February, when Shedeur and his peer Cam Ward (who was picked in the first round) both opted out of participating in the NFL Combine. In this week-long scouting showcase, players perform and hobnob with coaches and general managers. Sanders’ decision to sit out isn’t anything new; plenty of players have done it over the years.
Sanders’ idea of participation included making rounds to all of the teams and coaches for small talk, like a savvy politician. Still, despite having a Hall of Fame father, undeniable talent, major hype, and stellar stats, he wasn’t picked in the first round as expected.
Now, I’m sure there are other mitigating factors involved that I know nothing about. But what I do know is that the unfair treatment of Black men in America is always lurking and waiting to strike.
Shedeur not being picked until Day 3 is nothing more than a tactic by the NFL and its powers that be to humble him and his father. History has shown us how white America seeks to humble our most elite and confident personalities. If you Google the definition of “Black confidence,” the AI overview defines it as the self-assuredness and belief in one’s own abilities, value, and worth, particularly within the context of being Black or African American. That’s everything Shedeur embodies.
For crying out loud, his father is Deion Sanders. He not only inherited his father’s athletic talent but also his charisma and confidence. I mean, what do you expect from a child who grew up in the spotlight? But riddle me this: doesn’t this game, and every other game, require confidence? No one wants someone uncertain and unsure of themselves.
I cannot fathom how one’s confidence can be used as a form of punishment and weaponized to bruise the ego. Our aura breathes differently. It walks differently. It talks differently. It looks different. It’s not monolithic. It’s not brash, and it’s not arrogance. It’s Black confidence.
P.S. I’m still upset about how they did Kaep.
