In accordance with New York Athletic Club bylaws, any defensive player who wins the Heisman must be a dual threat player: one who also takes enough snaps on offense to remind voters of the QBs and RBs those voters like to vote for, and who normally win this award. That’s how legendary Michigan CB Charles Woodson secured the Heisman in 1997 (over betting favorite Peyton Manning), and it’s how Colorado CB/WR Travis Hunter edged out Boise State RB Ashton Jeanty for the honor on Saturday night. Hunter is even more of an offensive threat than Woodson was, amassing 92 receptions and 1,152 yards on offense this season while also serving as the Buffaloes’ shutdown corner. This man is a special talent, and the NFL Draft will reward him for it.
Now let’s talk about Hunter’s coach, who’s a total asshole.
Deion Sanders made his coaching name at Colorado by taking both Hunter and QB Shedeur Sanders with him from his last stop at Jackson State. Like Hunter, Deion was a spectacular defensive back in college. Like Hunter, Deion also pulled double duty, with 60 career receptions on offense and a side gig as arguably the most dangerous return man the NFL has ever seen. Deion also played Major League Baseball, making him one of the last multi-sport stars anyone is likely to see. Hunter is similarly talented—at football, anyway, I haven't seen him play the outfield—which means that he’ll be appointment viewing with whichever team ends up drafting him come April. The Heisman Curse stopped existing sometime right around when Woodson won the trophy, so I’m excited for Hunter to make the jump and become the sort of player we haven’t seen in the NFL since Deion was out there high-stepping all over opponents.
But that’s the full extent to which I want Hunter to be like his mentor. Sanders was one of the coolest (not to mention best) players I’ve ever had the privilege of watching. But the man’s on-field legacy has eroded over time thanks to his post-NFL escapades. An incomplete list includes a fake high school, a gig with Barstool, a Fuck You pickup truck with its own coal furnace, an ongoing power ranking of his own offspring, and his entire college coaching career, which often feels more like a MLM scheme than an earnest pursuit of athletic glory, even though Sanders has won at both of his stops.
You and I live in a hustle economy, so I can’t fault Sanders for taking advantage of any opening he can find to boost his name. Shit, Sanders has been hustling ever since his days in the recording studio. But when I think of Neon Deion now, the hustle is all I think of. Not the Super Bowls. Not the punt returns to the house. Not the generation of quarterbacks terrified of throwing in his direction. All I see now are a series of business decisions, with the majesty of his playing career slowly being crowded from memory by all that other noise.
Given that Hunter is Sanders’ protégé, I can’t help but fear a similar future awaits him decades from now. Sanders has built Colorado’s program in his own image, complete with a “Coach Prime” handle that has, gratingly, become part of every broadcast network’s on-air style guide. He treats his lesser players as disposable, goes out of his way to badmouth transfers, and he encourages the players he keeps in the fold to do likewise. It’s not the most enjoyable way to see someone I loved watching as a player keep growing his bank account and building whatever this brand is. It's not really new, though, and such endeavors have increasingly become SOP for ex-athletes who don’t want the money spigot to turn off. My affections are collateral damage in this exchange, and I'm sure Deion will sleep fine knowing that I think somewhat less of him than I used to.
But I'm praying that Hunter doesn’t follow a similar path, even though I know that the hustle economy isn’t leaving us anytime soon. With men like Sanders flourishing, it will only become more deeply entrenched. But it's not fair to judge a player by his coach, and I don't have to dread Hunter's future while he's busy dazzling out on the gridiron. So I’m gonna suck up as many gravity-defying picks and breakaway touchdowns as my memory can hold. Because that's what Hunter deserves, even if he follows his mentor's example and spends his life's next act trying to make me forget all of that greatness.
