The Cleveland sports media landscape just witnessed one of its most embarrassing moments on live radio, as veteran journalist Tony Grossi of ESPN Cleveland was “taken down” by his own words. The focus of the incident was Shedeur Sanders, the Cleveland Browns’ rookie quarterback, whom Grossi attempted to criticize but ultimately, and inadvertently, highlighted his talent and professionalism. This incident is not just a lesson in journalistic fairness but also exposes the deep-seated biases and contradictions in how a segment of the media approaches young, confident, and charismatic athletes.

Tony Grossi, a familiar name in Cleveland sports media with a long career and a history of controversial takes, was ready for another “attack” on Shedeur Sanders. Sanders, who has been a focal point of attention since signing his groundbreaking “Prime Equity Clause,” continued to be Grossi’s target. The veteran journalist believed he had the “evidence” to question Sanders’ character, motives, and future in the NFL. However, things unfolded in a completely different script.

The drama began when ESPN Cleveland, a major media outlet, approached Shedeur Sanders after a practice and asked him a direct question: “Do you feel ready to play right now?” Sanders’ response was simple, professional, and full of confidence: “I’m ready right now.” This is a perfectly normal answer for any competitive athlete, especially a well-groomed quarterback like Sanders. There were no shots fired at teammates, no trade demands, no cryptic social media rants. Just pure, unadulterated confidence—the kind of confidence necessary to succeed in the high-pressure environment of the NFL.

However, for Tony Grossi, this simple statement of self-belief was a “declaration of war.” He immediately went on the offensive, delivering a loaded take: “Shedeur never met a camera he didn’t like and is really missing the viral moments being QB3.” Grossi tried to paint a picture of Sanders as an attention-hungry diva, someone who only seeks fame and cannot stand being out of the spotlight. He framed Sanders’ confidence as desperation.

But this is where Tony Grossi’s entire argument began to crumble, quickly and spectacularly. Who conducted that interview? Was it Sanders’ personal YouTube channel? No. Was he live-streaming on his personal Instagram? No. Was it a glossy, self-produced content piece where Sanders was chasing the cameras? Also, no. It was ESPN Cleveland, a professional media outlet. They approached Sanders, they asked the questions, they recorded the video, and they posted the interview. It was the media that created the viral moment.

Grossi was caught in a logical pretzel. How could he argue that Sanders was desperate for attention simply because he answered a question that Grossi’s own industry colleagues asked? It’s like criticizing someone for being thirsty because they accepted a glass of water you offered them. The logic is so completely backward, so fundamentally flawed, that it exposes the entire premise as a lie from the start.

It gets so much worse. In his desperate attempt to frame Sanders as a problem, Grossi then casually says something that should have every single Browns fan questioning what the so-called experts have been watching all season. He admits that the Cleveland offense is struggling to score points and calls their performance “awful.” “Ding ding ding! Thank you, Tony,” a commentator sarcastically noted. “Finally, someone in the Cleveland media admits what we have all been seeing with our own two eyes.”

That’s right, the Browns’ offense, with Joe Flacco at the helm (who, at 40, looks like he’s trying to throw a “wet medicine ball”), is “awful.” The offense is stagnant, predictable, and completely inept in the red zone. So, in the midst of his tirade against Sanders, Grossi accidentally makes Sanders’ case for him: if the offense is, by your own admission, “awful” with the current quarterback play, and the backup rookie quarterback thinks he can do better, maybe that isn’t delusional arrogance. Maybe that’s just an accurate assessment of the situation. But Grossi couldn’t connect these two simple dots because he was too busy trying to create a controversial narrative that would get clicks and reactions.

The irony continues. Grossi keeps bringing up the Rams preseason game like it’s the Zapruder film—the one piece of evidence that proves his entire case. “After that Rams game, I need evidence he can play,” he said. But let’s analyze that “evidence.” In that game, Sanders took some sacks while playing behind a third-string offensive line that was getting manhandled. That’s the big criticism. A rookie quarterback in his first real NFL action took sacks when his protection broke down completely. This has happened countless times in football history. But what Sanders didn’t do in that game was turn the ball over. Zero turnovers, zero interceptions, zero fumbles. Meanwhile, Dylan Gabriel, the other rookie quarterback the Browns drafted two rounds earlier, threw an interception and fumbled the ball—two turnovers in very limited action. Yet somehow, in Tony Grossi’s mind, taking sacks is a more disqualifying sin than literally giving the football to the other team, especially in Kevin Stefanski’s offensive system where the number one unbreakable rule is to protect the football.

This is where Grossi truly begins to unravel. After spending minutes trashing Sanders for supposedly seeking attention and being desperate for the limelight, Grossi, under the slightest bit of pressure from his co-host, completely reverses course and admits, “I don’t begrudge any player saying what’s on his mind. They approached him, he didn’t approach them.” Hold up. Did he just admit that everything he had said for the past 10 minutes was complete and utter nonsense? He literally, on live radio, acknowledged that Sanders did not seek out this interview, that the media approached Sanders, and that players have every right to express confidence in themselves. So which is it, Tony? Is Sanders wrong for being confident and answering a question, or is it okay for players to speak their minds when they are directly asked? You can’t have it both ways. This is a textbook example of starting with a predetermined conclusion and trying to work backward to find evidence.

For whatever personal reason, Grossi decided he didn’t like Shedeur Sanders. Then he tried to build a case around that feeling. But when he was pressed for actual logic and facts, the entire flimsy structure crumbled into dust right before our ears.

What’s really happening, and what Tony Grossi accidentally revealed, is that the Cleveland Browns haven’t been this relevant on a national level since the chaotic days of Johnny Manziel. People are actually talking about Cleveland football again, and some of these old-guard media personalities don’t know how to handle the new level of attention and scrutiny. Grossi admits as much when he says, “This feels like Johnny Manziel’s back and people are actually responding to my tweets.” He’s getting more engagement, more clicks, and more attention than he’s had in years, and it’s making him sloppy. Instead of providing thoughtful, nuanced analysis based on facts, he’s throwing red meat to the portion of the fan base that wants to be angry. In a stunning twist of irony, he has become the very thing he’s accusing Sanders of being: someone desperate for viral moments.

But here’s the crucial difference: Shedeur Sanders earned his platform through elite, record-breaking college performance. He was a Johnny Unitas Award winner, the Big 12 Offensive Player of the Year, and he set completion percentage records. He put up numbers against top competition that got him drafted into the NFL. Tony Grossi’s current platform comes from being controversial about a rookie quarterback who hasn’t even been given a chance to play yet.

Speaking of those college numbers, let’s talk about the facts, since Tony seems to be allergic to them. Every single reputable draft analyst had Shedeur Sanders rated as a first or second-round talent based on his film. Not one analyst said, “This guy can’t play at the NFL level.” Not a single one had Dylan Gabriel rated higher. The college completion percentage record that Sanders holds includes names like Joe Burrow, Jayden Daniels, Kenny Pickett, and Mac Jones. Are all of these guys busts because they completed passes efficiently in college? This revisionist history is absolutely wild.

Six months ago, the consensus in the football world was that Shedeur Sanders was a legitimate NFL prospect with excellent accuracy, elite decision-making, and a high football IQ. Now, simply because he’s on the Browns roster and had the audacity to show confidence, suddenly he can’t play. The same people who are now questioning his talent are the very same people who thought drafting Kenny Pickett was a good idea. Kenny Pickett, the man who couldn’t beat out Mason Rudolph for a starting job in Pittsburgh. But Shedeur Sanders having confidence, that’s the real problem here.

What’s truly frustrating about this whole ordeal is the blatant double standard. Jackson Dart at Ole Miss can wear massive chains and backwards hats, talk about being a “dog-eat-dog” competitor, and everyone praises his swagger. Caleb Williams can paint his nails and have niche anime interests, and people call it authentic personality. But Shedeur Sanders shows the exact same quiet confidence that literally every successful NFL quarterback in history has displayed, and suddenly it’s labeled as arrogance and desperate attention-seeking. Why? What is it that’s different about Shedeur that makes his confidence so threatening, while other quarterbacks’ confidence is celebrated as a leadership trait? I’ll let you connect those dots for yourself.

The most beautiful thing about Tony Grossi’s incoherent rant is that he eventually talks himself into a corner and ends up agreeing with Sanders. By the end of his segment, he’s admitting that a quarterback should believe he’s better than other players in the league. He’s acknowledging that confidence is a good, necessary trait for a competitor. So what was the entire point of the first 10 minutes of scathing criticism? Tony got so caught up in his own manufactured narrative that he forgot to maintain any semblance of consistency.

This whole embarrassing episode reveals something critically important about how we discuss young players, especially ones with recognizable last names. There is a toxic assumption in sports media that criticism equals analysis, that tearing a player down equals being “real.” But sometimes, the simple explanation is the right one. Shedeur Sanders was an elite college quarterback who got drafted by an NFL team. He is working hard, staying ready, and maintaining confidence in his own abilities. When a reporter asked him directly if he feels ready to play, he said yes. That’s normal. That’s professional. That’s exactly what you want from your quarterbacks. The manufactured controversy says far more about the people creating it than it does about Shedeur Sanders. Tony Grossi only succeeded in exposing his own biases and logical fallacies. In his desperate attempt to make Shedeur look bad, he only made himself look foolish. In trying to create controversy, he accidentally provided clarity. And in his pathetic chase for viral moments, he became the exact thing he was criticizing. That, my friends, is the sweet, delicious taste of instant regret in real time.