Imagine this: Shedeur Sanders, Colorado’s rocket-armed QB, slinging 4,134 yards and 37 touchdowns last season, wearing orange and brown. And alongside him, Travis Hunter, the Heisman-winning Swiss Army knife who played 1,422 snaps as both WR and CB—a “unicorn,” according to Browns GM Andrew Berry. The kind of duo that turns “Factory of Sadness” memes into confetti showers.

You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take—and the Cleveland Browns ain’t here to miss. Channeling Ted Lasso‘s relentless optimism, Cleveland’s $5.1B franchise is eyeing a draft play that’s as audacious as it is bold—so bold, in fact, it could make Deion Sanders crack a smirk. While Dawg Pound fans fantasize about confetti showers and Super Bowl glory, the true drama lies not in who the Browns pick, but in how two college phenoms could flip the script on decades of heartbreak.

“Every snap, I strive to be the best Sanders that ever played,” Shedeur tweeted last fall. It’s a swagger inherited from his Hall of Fame father, Deion. But Cleveland’s interest isn’t just rooted in pedigree—it’s in production. Scouts are drooling over Shedeur’s 74% completion rate under pressure, a stat tighter than Myles Garrett’s spin move.

Meanwhile, Hunter’s 2024 line—96 catches, 1,258 yards, 15 TDs plus 4 INTs—isn’t just a résumé; it’s a cheat code. “Dreams turn into reality when preparation meets opportunity,” Hunter told SI, channeling Friday Night Lights‘ Coach Taylor vibes (minus the Texas twang).

The twist? The Browns, holding the No. 2 pick, aren’t just drafting talent—they’re drafting culture. Imagine Hunter lining up opposite Amari Cooper and then switching over to lock down Ja’Marr Chase. It’s Avengers-level versatility in a city starved for superheroes. “In my playbook, teamwork always comes before the touchdown,” Hunter said—a line that’d make Kevin Stefanski weep into his play sheet.

From Bayou to Lake erie: Ryan Clark’s QB defense on Shedeur

While mock drafts link Shedeur Sanders to New Orleans at No. 9, former Steelers safety Ryan Clark isn’t having it. “If any evaluator’s hung up on his 40 time, they’re missing the point,” Clark uttered on First Take, defending Shedeur’s pocket wizardry. “Can you escape? Can you maneuver? He’s done that.” Translation: The Dude’s more elusive than Jim Halpert dodging Dwight’s stapler pranks.

Yet critics linger. One anonymous QB coach called Shedeur “annoying” post-Combine—a jab Clark swatted like a pick-six: “He’s not a mobile QB? Since when did 4.5 speed trump 74% accuracy?” Mel Kiper’s latest mock? The Saints at No. 9, but Kiper hedging: “He could slide… but NFC South weather’d ease arm-strength concerns.” Cue Cleveland fans side-eyeing Deshaun Watson’s $230M contract.

But here’s the kicker: Shedeur’s “brash nature”—the swagger that irks execs—is exactly what Cleveland’s locker room needs. A team that hasn’t sniffed a division title since 1989 doesn’t need a choirboy; they need a conductor. “I don’t play for the lights; I play for the love,” Shedeur said. Sounds a lot like a certain QB who turned “Believeland” into a verb.

The Browns’ gamble isn’t just about stats—it’s about soul. Drafting Shedeur and Hunter would signal a renaissance for a franchise whose last title came when Back to the Future II was in theaters. It’s high-risk, higher-reward, wrapped in hope that makes Ted Lasso‘s “Believe” sign look understated.

So as the draft nears, remember: Cleveland’s used to long shots. But sometimes, the best bets are the ones that make Mel Kiper sweat. “Boomer Sooner,” indeed. 🏈🎲

Dawg Pound, you’ve waited 32 seasons. Time to unleash the underdogs.