“I feel like I’m the best player in the country. The best player should be selected No. 1.” Abdul Carter’s confidence isn’t just swagger—it’s a neon sign flashing “FUTURE STAR” in a league that eats doubt for breakfast. As the Cleveland Browns host the Penn State edge rusher for a pre-draft visit this week, the NFL rumor mill is spinning faster than a Myles Garrett spin move. With Garrett’s trade request still lingering, the Browns’ front office—led by GM Andrew Berry—is threading a needle between loyalty to a franchise icon and the cold calculus of building a contender.

The air around Cleveland’s aging Dawg Pound is buzzing with the potential of fresh blood, as Jordan Schultz’s sources confirm that Carter “will visit the #Browns this week”. It’s a moment that feels as cinematic as a scene from The Godfather, where every whisper in the back room could change the game.

Let’s break it down like The Wire’s Stringer Bell breaking down corners: if Cleveland’s eyeing Carter at No. 2 overall, it’s not just about adding depth. It’s insurance. Garrett, the 2023 Defensive Player of the Year and six-time Pro Bowler, wants out unless the Browns morph into Super Bowl contenders yesterday. But trading him? That’s like selling your Ferrari to buy a lottery ticket. Berry ain’t biting—yet. “We can’t imagine a situation where not having Myles is best for the Browns,” he’s said, doubling down like a blackjack pro. But with Carter’s 6’3”, 252-pound frame boasting 24 TFLs and 12 sacks in 2024 alone, the allure of a cheaper, younger disruptor is real.

Carter’s college tape is a highlight reel screaming “Dawg Pound material.” His 2024 domination—66 pressures (second nationally), a game-winning sack in the Big Ten title clash, and a star-in-the-making performance against Ohio State (3.5 sacks, one forced fumble)—has scouts drooling. But there’s a hitch: a stress reaction in his right foot. Surgery could bench him eight weeks, but Carter’s betting on his body like Baker Mayfield bets on himself. “I’m impressed with them. They’re impressed with me,” he said of the Titans, who also hosted him. Translation: Dude’s got options.

Meanwhile, Garrett’s legacy looms. Since 2017, he’s racked up 102.5 sacks, 17 PDs, and 16 forced fumbles—gridiron poetry in motion. But at 29, with no guaranteed money left post-2025 and a $25M cap hit in 2026, the financials are tighter than a fourth-quarter cover-2. Berry’s balancing act? Think Inception-level layers. He’s trimming Cleveland’s draft board from 329 combine invites to ~150–180, hunting “good players” who fit the culture. Enter Carter: a Myles Garrett disciple with Micah Parsons’ versatility. “He can play off the ball, he can rush the passer,” Berry noted, adding, “He’s an excellent prospect.” Translation: We see you, Abdul.

But here’s the kicker: Carter’s health. If his foot holds up, he’s a top-five lock. If not? The Browns’ 12 draft picks (pending comps) could let them gamble. Meanwhile, Garrett’s “trade me” ultimatum hangs like a Damoclean sword. Philly and Detroit are circling, but Berry’s stance is clearer than a Lambeau Field snowfall: “We are not interested.” For now.

Garrett Gone? Carter on Job? Berry’s blueprint

Let’s rewind to 1946, when the Browns debuted like a fireworks finale—four straight AAFC titles. Today’s Browns? More like a gritty reboot. After a 3-14 trainwreck in 2024 (dead-last offense, 27th-ranked defense), Berry knows he has a rebuild on his hands. His secret weapon? Culture. The same culture that turned dawgs like Joel Bitonio and Nick Chubb into icons. The same reason why Garrett—despite his frustration—hasn’t mailed it in.

Financially, though, it’s a minefield. Cleveland’s staring down a $22.8M cap deficit, with $291.8M tied to their top 51 contracts. Moving Garrett would free $19.7M in 2025…but cost $36.2M in dead cap. Ouch. Hence, Berry’s draft strategy isn’t just about talent—it’s arithmetic. Carter’s rookie deal? Peanuts compared to Garrett’s $25M/year. Pair that with Berry’s knack for value picks (hello, Jeremiah Owusu-Koramoah), and suddenly, this isn’t just a draft—it’s a chess match.

And let’s not forget the fans. The Dawg Pound doesn’t crave rebuilds; they crave Lombardis. Trading Garrett risks mutiny, but drafting his heir apparent? That’s a storybook twist. As former NFL linebacker Manti Te’o put it, Carter “should be the top pick.” Whether Berry agrees? We’ll see. But one thing’s certain: In Cleveland, hope’s cheaper than a Great Lakes brew—and twice as intoxicating. GM Glenn Cook asserted that only about 80% of the 329 would be considered, and again, the final one for the Browns will probably have around 150-180 players on it.

The NFL draft is part science, part sorcery. For the Browns, it’s a crossroads—a chance to marry past glory to future promise. Myles Garrett, the human hurricane, wants a ring. Abdul Carter, the prodigy, wants a stage. And Andrew Berry? He’s got 12 picks, a spreadsheet, and the weight of a city on his shoulders. However this plays out, remember: In Cleveland, every snap is a sonnet, every tackle a stanza. And right now? The Dawg Pound’s waiting for its next epic. Tick-tock, Mr. Berry. Tick-tock.