Beyond the Prank: What the Jax Ulbrich Incident Reveals About NFL Accountability and Outrage Culture
The NFL Draft is meant to be a celebration of hope and new beginnings-a night when young athletes’ dreams are realized. Yet this year, a single prank call involving Jax Ulbrich and Shedeur Sanders became a lightning rod for public scorn and league discipline, revealing more about our culture’s appetite for instant outrage and the NFL’s priorities than about the seriousness of the act itself.
How It Happened
The sequence of events began with a routine but consequential act: in the lead-up to the 2025 NFL Draft, the league distributed an internal email to all 32 teams containing confidential phone numbers for draft prospects. Notably, Shedeur Sanders’ number was referenced in the subject line, making it easily identifiable and accessible to a wide range of team staff-and, by extension, potentially to others in their households.
According to the Atlanta Falcons and Jax Ulbrich’s own admission, Jax, the college-aged son of Falcons defensive coordinator Jeff Ulbrich, encountered this information on an iPad left open at his parents’ home. He wrote down Sanders’ number and later, while back at his college dorm, shared it with friends. It was one of those friends who ultimately placed the prank call to Sanders, impersonating Saints GM Mickey Loomis, while Jax was present and laughing in the background.
The prank itself was straightforward: Sanders, whose draft night was being livestreamed, received a call informing him that the Saints would be selecting him, only to be told moments later that he would have to “wait a little bit longer.” Within days, a video of the incident surfaced on social media, quickly going viral. The footage showed Jax’s presence and participation but did not clarify who conceived the idea, who encouraged whom, or what was said before or after the camera rolled.
This viral clip became the main evidence in both public and institutional responses. The NFL’s subsequent investigation did not-and perhaps could not-determine the full context or the extent of Jax’s involvement. Whether he was the instigator, a passive participant, or simply caught up in the moment remains unknown.
The “open iPad” story, while plausible, is also a remarkably convenient narrative for the NFL. By focusing attention on Jax Ulbrich’s actions and the supposed carelessness of a single family, the league sidesteps deeper questions about its own information security practices and the broad internal distribution of confidential data. In truth, there is fault on both sides: Jax Ulbrich made a foolish decision, but the NFL’s lax protocols created the opportunity for this breach to occur. Both the individual and the institution share responsibility for what happened.
A Punishment That Does Not Fit
Despite the ambiguity, the NFL responded swiftly and severely. Jeff Ulbrich was fined $100,000, and the Falcons were fined $250,000 for failing to safeguard confidential information. The Falcons accepted the punishment and issued public apologies, and Jax himself released a statement calling his actions “completely inexcusable, embarrassing, and shameful.” He also reached out directly to Sanders to apologize, and the Sanders family-by all accounts-was “amazingly gracious” in accepting it.
However, the scale of the fine is striking, especially when compared to similar incidents. Multiple other draft prospects received prank calls during the draft, yet none of those incidents resulted in national headlines or six-figure penalties. The difference? Shedeur Sanders, son of Deion Sanders and one of the most famous young athletes in the world, was the target, and the prank was livestreamed to a large audience.
It is hard to avoid the conclusion that the NFL’s response was shaped more by optics and profile than by an objective assessment of harm or intent. Had the prank targeted a less prominent player, or had it not been broadcast live, would the outcome have been the same?
Social Media’s Swift Verdict
If the league’s reaction was severe, the public’s was merciless. Social media and sports commentators were quick to pile on Jax Ulbrich, questioning his character and speculating about his father’s future. The tone was often harsh, with little room for nuance or forgiveness. In the rush to assign blame, the context-the fact that this was a college prank, caught on video, with unclear origins-was largely ignored.
As an attorney, I find the lack of proportionality troubling. Jax Ulbrich’s actions were foolish, but not malicious. He was a 20-year-old making a dumb mistake-one that, in another era, might have been handled quietly and with a measure of grace. Instead, he became the target of a global pile-on.
A Process Lacking Transparency
The NFL’s handling of the incident also raises questions about process and transparency. There was no independent investigation, no public disclosure of evidence, and no opportunity for those involved to present their side. The league acted as investigator, judge, and jury-behind closed doors. True accountability means examining all the facts and the system that allowed a prank like this to happen in the first place.
The reality is that the NFL’s draft-day communication protocols are outdated. Distributing confidential phone numbers to dozens of staffers across 32 teams is inherently risky. When Shedeur Sanders was finally drafted, the Browns FaceTimed him-a simple, modern solution that could prevent impersonation and similar pranks in the future. The league would do well to modernize its systems, rather than simply punishing individuals when those systems fail.
An Apology Under the Microscope
Jax Ulbrich’s apology has also been subjected to an unusual level of scrutiny. Some critics, apparently unwilling to accept any gesture of contrition, claimed the apology must have been written by artificial intelligence-a charge that falls apart when one notices the misspelling of Shedeur’s name, something AI would almost certainly not do. This kind of nitpicking is not only in bad faith, but also revealing: it suggests that, for some, no apology would ever be good enough. Instead of accepting a young person’s public admission of fault and attempt to make amends, critics seem more interested in finding reasons to dismiss it. Perhaps, in their refusal to accept an apology, they are reflecting something about their own unwillingness to forgive or move on.
In a world where public figures often dodge responsibility, Jax’s direct statement and personal call to Sanders should be recognized for what they are-a sincere attempt to make things right. We should encourage growth and accountability in young people, not dissect their apologies for minor flaws or imagined shortcomings.
Shedeur Sanders’ Perspective: Unfazed and Experienced
Perhaps most telling is Shedeur Sanders’ own reaction. Despite the prank and the media attention, Sanders told reporters, “It did not really have an impact on me… I do not feed into negativity or I do not feed into that stuff… Of course, I feel like it was a childish act, but everybody does childish things here and there.” For an athlete of Shedeur’s profile-one of the most famous young players in the world-prank calls and unwanted attention are unfortunately all too common. If the person at the center of the incident can take it in stride, perhaps the rest of us should as well.
The Real Lesson
The Ulbrich prank call was not a scandal deserving of outsized punishment. It was a lapse in judgment by a young adult, magnified by the spotlight of the modern draft and the celebrity of its victim. The NFL’s disproportionate response and lack of transparency are the real issues at play. If the league is truly interested in integrity, it must modernize its protocols and open its processes to scrutiny.
As for the rest of us, perhaps it is time to rediscover a little perspective-and a little mercy. Mistakes, even public ones, are part of growing up. The measure of a person, and of a league, is not in how harshly we punish, but in how thoughtfully we respond.
