The Cleveland Browns franchise is no stranger to criticism. It has spent the better part of three decades as a case study in athletic failure. But what is happening now is different. The criticism has shifted from simple mockery of their record to a full-blown dissection of their soul. The organization stands accused, in the court of public and expert opinion, of being a “quarterback graveyard”—a place where talent goes to die.

And this week, ESPN’s revered draft guru, Mel Kiper, acted as the prosecution, judge, and jury.

In a scathing, surgical takedown, Kiper “crucified” and “destroyed” the Cleveland Browns organization, publicly shaming them for their handling of the entire quarterback situation and delivering a chilling, definitive verdict: they are “destroying Shedeur Sanders.”

Kiper, a man whose big board is treated as gospel, did not mince words. He held up the Browns’ pathetic history as Exhibit A. This is the franchise that has given the league a “bus galore” of failed quarterbacks. Tim Couch. Brady Quinn. Johnny Manziel. Brandon Weeden. The list is a monument to incompetence. This is a team with one single playoff win since 1999 and a staggering 15 last-place finishes in their division since 2002.

They are, by every conceivable metric, a failed state. And in Kiper’s expert opinion, this isn’t bad luck; it’s a feature, not a bug. “Organizations ruin players,” Kiper stated flatly. “They ruin quarterbacks… nine times out of 10.”

And Shedeur Sanders, the man Kiper had as a top-two quarterback in the draft, is simply the latest victim to be fed into the woodchipper.

The core of this current “dysfunctional” meltdown, as Kiper and insiders have exposed, is a bitter internal civil war between the two men steering this sinking ship: Head Coach Kevin Stefanski and General Manager Andrew Berry.

This isn’t just a disagreement on strategy; it’s a power struggle for survival, and the team’s season is the collateral damage.

On one side, you have Kevin Stefanski, who, according to reports, “handpicked” third-round pick Dillon Gabriel.  Gabriel has, by any objective measure, been “absolutely atrocious” in his four starts. He has shown zero progression. The offense is stagnant. The fans are booing. The local Cleveland media, once supportive, is now “crashing out,” admitting they can no longer defend the indefensible.

Yet, Stefanski remains defiantly, stubbornly loyal. He is “going down on her sword” with Gabriel, refusing to make a change. He has publicly stated he is “not going to play Shedeur Sanders.”

On the other side, you have Andrew Berry. It was Berry, insiders claim, who was “Shador Sanders’ guy.” It was Berry who saw a player nine NFL executives reportedly had as the #1 quarterback fall into his lap in the fifth round and took him.

Now, that player—the one with the pedigree, the poise, and the arm talent—is a ghost. Sanders is reportedly still getting his back “treated,” and in a baffling move, has not even been promoted back to the QB2 spot over Bailey Zappe. He is being intentionally sidelined, not just from the field, but from the conversation.

This is the “collusion” Kiper referenced: a top-tier talent suddenly, mysteriously, becomes unwanted. The reason is now clear. He is a political pawn in a coach’s desperate bid to prove his own, failed evaluation correct.

Stefanski’s refusal to play Sanders isn’t just a bad coaching decision; it’s an act of organizational self-sabotage, and it proves Kiper’s most devastating point.

The ultimate proof of Cleveland’s systemic dysfunction is the success of the quarterbacks they discard. Kiper angrily pointed to the one man they “hit on”: Baker Mayfield.

“You had Baker,” Kiper railed, his voice rising. “You had Baker who was winning… a leader… the players rally around… and he almost had you in a Super Bowl.”

The Browns, in an act of supreme arrogance and spectacular miscalculation, decided he wasn’t the one, chased a mirage, and summarily cut him loose. “Shame on you,” Kiper said, dripping with disdain. Now, Mayfield is “down in Tampa” and “showing out,” once again leading a team to playoff contention.

The evidence doesn’t even stop there. Look at Joe Flacco. The Browns traded the veteran quarterback to the division-rival Cincinnati Bengals. His reward? A record-setting run. Flacco “balled out,” throwing for “damn near 400 yards and had four touchdowns” against Pittsburgh, and followed it up by “damn near” throwing for 500 yards against Chicago.

A player who was useless in Cleveland is a superstar in Cincinnati. As the host notes, this is a “direct reflection on your organization and your coaching staff not knowing what to do with said player.”

One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. And the Cleveland Browns’ lawn is littered with treasures they mistook for trash.

This is the toxic, destructive environment Shedeur Sanders has been dropped into. He is not just being “destroyed” by neglect; he is being actively held down by a coach who sees his success as a threat to his own job security. Stefanski cannot allow Sanders—Berry’s guy—to get on the field and succeed, because it would be the final, irrefutable admission that he, Stefanski, was wrong about Gabriel.

So, he will ride his “atrocious” pick all the way to the bottom, and he will take the entire franchise with him.

Mel Kiper did not need a crystal ball to see this. He just needed to read the Browns’ history. It’s a history of failure, of incompetence, and of ruining quarterbacks. What is happening to Shedeur Sanders is not new. It is the Cleveland way. And for a franchise desperate to escape its past, it is the most damning indictment of all: they haven’t changed a thing.