It’s draft night in Green Bay, Wisconsin. The air is thick with anticipation, like a fourth-quarter drive in Lambeau during a snowstorm. Analysts scribble furiously, fans clutch their cheeseheads, and Mel Kiper Jr.—the man whose hair has outlasted the Cold War—doubles down on his bold predictions. But by pick No. 21, the room feels less like The Draft Day and more like a NASCAR pileup. Someone just threw a wrench into Kiper’s well-oiled mock draft machine. And the culprit?

A quarterback slide so steep it’d make Aaron Rodgers’ 2005 freefall look like a kiddie coaster. When the Pittsburgh Steelers snagged Oregon defensive tackle Derrick Harmon instead of Colorado’s Shedeur Sanders at No. 21, jaws dropped. Mel Kiper, who’d staked his reputation on Sanders as a first-round lock, sounded like a disgruntled diner who’d just been served a cold bratwurst.

“If I’m Pittsburgh… to pass on him at this stage at pick 21…come on,” Kiper groaned earlier, his tone sharper than a Lambeau leap into frozen turf. The Steelers’ decision didn’t just buck Kiper’s prediction—it lit a fuse under NFL Draft Twitter. For decades, Mel Kiper has been the NFL Draft’s carnival barker—a mix of showmanship, stats, and stubborn opinions. But this year, his crystal ball cracked.

Sanders, once hyped as a potential top-five pick, tumbled past quarterback-needy teams like the Saints, Giants, and Titans. Even Cam Ward—the Miami gunslinger Kiper ranked below Sanders—went No. 1 to Tennessee (and quite rightly so). “Shedeur Sanders will come back to haunt these organizations,” Kiper warned, doubling down. Critics fired back fast. Besides, Sanders’ freefall isn’t just about Kiper’s credibility.

Scouts grilled the Colorado QB’s pocket presence, interview demeanor, and a system that saw him sacked 99 times in two years. One anonymous coach per Tom Pelissero blasted Sanders as “the worst formal interview I’ve ever been in…so entitled.” Meanwhile, the Steelers’ Harmon pick encapsulated the skepticism.

Harmon, a disruptive tackle, addressed Pittsburgh’s trenches-first philosophy—a move as classic as Terrible Towels at Heinz Field. Meanwhile, Shedeur Sanders’ camp watched helplessly. “We might get one quarterback tonight,” ESPN’s Adam Schefter mused ominously before Round 1 ended sans Shedeur.

Fan fury over Kiper’s Sanders debacle

Fan reactions ranged from bemused to brutal. “Tag Kiper. Dude is a used car salesman selling Jetta’s for 3 decades,” scoffed one X user. Another jabbed, “The Steelers are an historically well run organization and I’ll take their assessment over Kiper who appears to be on the Sander’s payroll.” Even subtle nods to history surfaced.

“Back in the day, Mel Kiper dumped on the Steelers for trading to get Jerome Bettis. Mel can be spectacularly wrong at times,” wrote one. The takeaway? Kiper’s misses are becoming as legendary as his hair. As night one wrapped, the discourse shifted from Sanders’ slide to Kiper’s legacy. “What does Mel kiper even do if we’re being honest [?] is he ever f—— right[?]” one fan fumed. Others skewered his QB evaluations…

“Almost nobody else had him that high. Mel hasn’t got a great QB track record,” scoffed one fan. The online attack was scathing. “Seeing Kiper was on ESPN was the reason I decided to watch ABC,” shrugged one fan. For Shedeur Sanders, the path forward mirrors Rodgers’ 2005 rebound—a second-day pick with a vendetta. But for Kiper, this draft was a reality check.

In a league where GMs value game tape over guru hype, even the loudest voices can get drowned out. As The Office’s Michael Scott once quipped, “Would I rather be feared or loved? Easy. Both. I want people to be afraid of how much they love me.” Mel Kiper? He’s just hoping they’re still listening.