We are watching history repeat itself in real time, and it seems the entire Cleveland Browns front office is paralyzed, unable—or unwilling—to stop it. The organization just named Shedeur Sanders their number two quarterback ahead of a pivotal game, and instead of sparking hope, the move has set off a cascade of “alarm bells” across the league.

This isn’t just a routine depth chart update. According to a bombshell report from Jason Lloyd at The Athletic, there is a deep and pervasive fear gripping the Browns’ decision-makers. They are “legitimately terrified,” but not that Sanders will fail. They are terrified that he will be released, go to another team, and succeed.

Why? Because they have lived this exact nightmare before. The man at the center of this organizational trauma? Baker Mayfield. The scars from his departure and subsequent success “still haven’t healed”, and that fear is now dictating the future of another promising young quarterback. The Browns are so traumatized by their past that they are guaranteeing they repeat the same “exact same error all over again, just in a different package”.

To understand the toxic situation Shedeur Sanders has walked into, you must first understand the “blueprint” of the Baker Mayfield saga. In 2018, Cleveland drafted Baker first overall. He arrived with “swagger, confidence, and a chip on his shoulder”, giving a long-suffering fan base a reason to believe for the first time in forever. He won games. He gave them hope.

Then, the moment things got rocky, the organization turned. He “didn’t fit their narrow definition of what a franchise quarterback should look and act like”. The front office reportedly wanted a “grown-up”, someone “more professional, more polished, more controllable”. So, they shipped him out, infamously bringing in Deshaun Watson with a mountain of guaranteed money, and watched as Baker, after a few stops, landed in Tampa Bay and proceeded to “absolutely ball out”.

He flourished. He became the very quarterback Cleveland always had but “refused to believe in”. That success elsewhere was a public and humiliating repudiation of the Browns’ leadership. The national media eviscerated them.

Now, fast-forward to today. The Browns are staring at Shedeur Sanders, a quarterback who, like Baker, carries himself with a “swagger that makes traditional football people uncomfortable”. And they are panicking.

What does it tell you when you name a man your backup, but you won’t release him, trade him, or even give him meaningful reps? It tells you the organization “doesn’t believe in him enough to play him, but they’re absolutely petrified that someone else will”. This isn’t strategy. It’s “insecurity dressed up in a depth chart”. The Browns are holding Shedeur Sanders “hostage to their own fears”, and they are making decisions based on one thing: “fear of embarrassment”.

Analysts looking at the situation are asking one simple, devastating question: “If you can’t develop him, why do you care what happens to him somewhere else?”.

The answer is brutal. The Browns don’t care about Shedeur’s development; “they care about their reputation”. They care about “not being the punchline again”. This is “ego management,” not leadership, and it’s precisely why this franchise “keeps spinning its wheels decade after decade”.

One analyst perfectly compared the situation to a toxic relationship. If you’re with someone and you can’t give them what they need to be happy, you don’t get to be mad when they leave and find happiness with someone else. You don’t get to “keep them locked down just because you’re scared they’ll prove you wrong”. That is selfish, it is toxic, and it is exactly what Cleveland is doing to Sanders. They “won’t let him go find it elsewhere because their egos can’t handle watching him succeed without them”.

This organizational sickness runs deep. Cleveland isn’t just bad at letting quarterbacks go; they are notoriously bad at developing them in the first place. The list of failed “saviors” is a brutal one: Brady Quinn, Brandon Weeden, Johnny Manziel, Cody Kessler, DeShone Kizer, and Baker Mayfield. The pattern is “obvious and it’s brutal”. The organization drafts these men with hope, then “systematically destroys their confidence through instability, poor coaching decisions, and unrealistic expectations”. They never provide the “foundation for success”.

The rot, it seems, starts at the very top. Reports have emerged that the “Browns ownership wasn’t even a big believer in Shadore from the beginning”. When belief doesn’t filter down from the top, “it never filters down”. That doubt “seeps into everything”—it affects practice time, play design, and how quickly patience runs out. It becomes a “self-fulfilling prophecy”, allowing ownership to eventually point and say, “See, we were right to doubt him”.

What makes this entire saga so infuriating is that Shedeur Sanders is not a fragile rookie. “This kid is different”. He’s not “desperate for validation”. He has been “under the spotlight his entire life” as Deion Sanders’ son. The pressure of the NFL “doesn’t shake him”. He possesses a “quiet confidence” and he is “ready for the moment”. He is just waiting for someone to “actually give him the moment”.

This is the central irony: in their desperate attempt to avoid the embarrassment of another Baker Mayfield situation, “they’re guaranteeing it happens again”. Sanders is not going to “sit on a bench forever waiting for an organization that doesn’t believe in him”. He will force his way to an opportunity, one way or another. And when he gets that chance—when he is “lighting up defenses and leading a team to wins”—everyone “will point back to Cleveland and ask how they managed to screw this up again”.

This is organizational psychology at its most dysfunctional. This is how losing organizations stay losing organizations. “Winners make tough decisions based on what’s best for winning. Losers make safe decisions based on what’s best for avoiding criticism”.

The solution is simple, but it requires a “courage they haven’t shown in years”. Either commit to Shedeur Sanders, truly commit. “Give him meaningful reps. Design an offense that plays to his strengths”. Create an environment where he can actually grow. Or, if you don’t believe in him, “be honest about it and let him go to a team that does”.

This “half-measure nonsense”, this “weird purgatory” where he is too valuable to release but “not valued enough to develop”, is the worst of all worlds. It benefits no one.

The Baker Mayfield story should have been required reading in the Browns’ facility, a “case study in how not to handle a young quarterback”. Instead, it has become a ghost story that haunts the halls, paralyzing the very people who should have learned from it. Confident organizations make decisive moves; insecure ones hedge.

Shedeur Sanders deserves better than to be “caught in Cleveland’s emotional storm”. He deserves a real chance to show what he can do. Whether he gets that chance in Cleveland or, more likely, somewhere else, one thing is certain: the whole league is watching to see how the Browns will “fumble another chance at greatness”. They are simply “too scared to Believe”.