| Josh Allen |
David knew the thunder lived in his arm. He smiled when the sky cracked.
Destiny disguised as foresight — a pick made in whispered blue lightning. |
![Josh Allen portrait]() |
| D’Andre Swift |
He slips between shadows before they know they’re shadows.
David’s quiet grin said it all — patience turning into poetry. |
![D’Andre Swift portrait]() |
| Chuba Hubbard |
Footsteps like distant drums, steady and inevitable.
David circled the name and the room felt smaller. |
![Chuba Hubbard portrait]() |
| Ja’Marr Chase |
Routes like knives; every cut a promise kept.
“He finds me,” David whispered, and the ball obeyed. |
![Ja’Marr Chase portrait]() |
| Ladd McConkey |
Quiet routes, loud separation — the kind only the patient hear first.
David said he’d bloom under neon, and the lights leaned closer. |
![Ladd McConkey portrait]() |
| T.J. Hockenson |
Hands like vault doors — once shut, nothing escapes.
David wrote “safety blanket,” then slept perfectly. |
![T. J. Hockenson portrait]() |
| Deebo Samuel |
Positionless storm; tackles are only suggestions he politely ignores.
David laughed: “Why label lightning?” The clouds agreed. |
![Deebo Samuel portrait]() |
| Steelers D/ST |
Steel wakes and bites when others dream.
David heard the engines in the dark and drafted accordingly. |
![Pittsburgh Steelers logo]() |
