In the brutal, high-stakes world of the NFL, bad draft picks happen, rookie quarterbacks struggle, and coaches get fired. It’s the circle of life in professional football. But according to former NFL quarterback Shaun King, what is happening inside the Cleveland Browns’ facility isn’t just a mistake. It’s not just a bad evaluation. It is, in his words, “pure sabotage.”

In a blistering critique, King has dropped a “nuclear bomb” on Browns coach Kevin Stefanski and GM Andrew Barry, accusing them of intentionally sabotaging the career of rookie quarterback Shedeur Sanders to protect their own egos from a “colossal mistake.” That mistake? Drafting quarterback Dylan Gabriel in the third round of the 2025 NFL Draft.

This isn’t just a debate about who should be the starting quarterback. It’s an accusation of organizational malpractice so severe that King, and others, are now labeling the Cleveland Browns the “laughingstock of the NFL.” This is the story of a franchise in freefall, a leadership team in “survival mode,” and a talented rookie who is paying the price for a decision he had nothing to do with.

The “Most Egregious” Mistake

The entire crisis, according to King, hinges on one fateful decision. He labels the selection of Dylan Gabriel as the “most egregious draft pick in the entire 2025 draft.” This isn’t just hyperbole; King, who identifies as one of the few people on the planet who can “effectively evaluate this position,” provides a scathing breakdown of Gabriel as a prospect.

The issue isn’t just that Gabriel is undersized. King notes that it would be one thing “if he was a Kyler Murray type athlete,” an explosive and dynamic playmaker. But Gabriel, in King’s view, is not that. He’s not exceptionally fast, he’s not agile, he doesn’t have a big-time arm, and he’s not “overly accurate on a consistent basis.” In short, he’s a “system” quarterback from college whose production was never going to translate to the pro level.

The evaluation was, as King states, “just flat-out bad evaluation from the jump.” And now, the NFL has figured him out. King explains that defenses “know he’s very unwilling to throw the football down the field,” so they are “tightening up underneath coverage” and daring him to beat them deep. He can’t. The result is a sputtering offense and a quarterback who, as one host noted, is making throws that make you go “Holy goodness.”

King is quick to point out this isn’t Dylan Gabriel’s fault. He was “put in a terrible spot by an organization that overdrafted him” and is now forcing him to justify a pick he was never worth. The blame, King insists, lies squarely with Barry and Stefanski.

The “Sabotage” of Shedeur Sanders

This is where the story turns from a simple bad draft pick to an accusation of deliberate career malpractice. The Browns have another, more talented quarterback on their roster: Shedeur Sanders. And King is unequivocal in his assessment: “Dylan Gabriel has never been better than Shedeur Sanders ever.”

He repeats the point for emphasis, “Not at any level of football.” King makes it clear he is not a “Prime sexual” or a “Shador stan”—a reference to Shedeur’s father, Deion “Coach Prime” Sanders—but is simply stating an objective fact as a quarterback evaluator. The Browns, in his view, have the more talented player sitting on the bench.

So why won’t they play him? King’s answer is chilling: “They’re protecting their own terrible evaluation.”

King’s initial recommendation from Week 1 was for the Browns to “alternate starts with Dylan and Shadur.” This plan would have served two purposes: it would have alleviated the pressure on both rookies and, more importantly, it would have given the organization “live game data” to make an educated decision.

By not doing that, and instead anointing Gabriel the starter, the Browns leadership painted themselves into a corner. Now, King argues, “they can’t bench him without admitting they were wrong.” To pull Gabriel now would be a public admission that their “egregious” pick was a failure, compounding the mistake and making the optics “terrible.”

So, they are “stuck.” They are stuck playing a quarterback who can’t win, all to avoid the embarrassment of admitting their own failure. This refusal to pivot, this protection of ego over performance, is what King labels “sabotage.” They are sabotaging the team’s chances to win and, in the process, sabotaging the development of Shedeur Sanders.

A Locker Room in Collapse

This kind of dysfunction at the top inevitably poisons the entire organization. According to King, the Browns’ locker room is “already gone.” He paints a vivid, damning picture of a team that has completely checked out on its leadership.

“Guys aren’t showing up on Wednesday locked in, focused on details, trying to find ways to win on Sunday,” King states. “Nah, players are already booking their vacation flights, checking out mentally, thinking about Hawaii or St. Tropez.”

This collapse is the direct result of a leadership duo in “pure survival mode.” King explains the devastating conflict of interest at play: what’s best for the Browns organization is to lose out and get the #1 pick. But what’s best for the careers of Barry and Stefanski is to “scratch and claw and fight to win three or four more ugly games” to show just enough “improvement” to save their jobs.

These two goals cannot coexist. The leadership is making decisions to protect themselves, not to win football games. And every player in that locker room can see it for what it is. This dysfunctional timeline is further evidenced by the baffling handling of other quarterbacks, like trading for Kenny Pickett and then trading veteran Joe Flacco after just four weeks—even after a win. It’s an organization with no logic, no plan, and no trust.

The Unbelievable Silver Lining

In a stunning twist, the video’s narrator proposes a shocking theory: this entire disaster, this “sabotage,” might “actually be the best thing that ever happened to Shador Sanders.”

How could this possibly be good? The logic is as cynical as it is brilliant. Right now, Dylan Gabriel is the “scapegoat.” He is the face of the failure. He is taking all the heat for the bad offensive line, the dysfunctional coaching, and the organizational collapse. And every single week that he struggles, he proves that the front office’s evaluation was flawed.

Meanwhile, Shedeur Sanders “builds hype as the solution” without ever stepping on the field. He is being protected from the blame.

When the change is finally made—and it will be, because the losses will “force their hand”—Shedeur will step into a “winnable situation.” Expectations will have been “reset.” The fan base and media will be desperate for anything different. He won’t be expected to be a perfect savior; he will just be expected to be better than the man who failed so spectacularly.

Furthermore, whether this current regime survives or a new one comes in, Shedeur wins. If Barry and Stefanski stay, they will be “so desperate to save their jobs that they’ll give Shador every resource possible to succeed.” If they are fired, Shedeur gets a “fresh start” with a new staff that will appreciate his talent.

This entire charade, as frustrating as it is, is building the case for Shedeur. He gets to “watch, learn, and prepare for his moment,” all while the man who was incorrectly chosen ahead of him takes the arrows.

The Browns are stuck. King’s final analysis is a damning indictment of leadership that “can’t admit the mistake.” They are stuck defending a bad decision while the losses pile up and the dysfunction becomes undeniable. Reality is coming, and it will eventually “force everyone’s hand.” And when it does, Shedeur Sanders will be waiting, a clean slate in hand, ready to step into the wreckage of a disaster that, ironically, may have been the perfect setup for his career.