The NFL draft shows us where the people are.

Now we just have to show up.

By Michael Franklin

The NFL draft is one of the rare cultural moments in America that brings people together—across race, class, geography, and ideology—to celebrate something collectively. For one weekend, millions tune in to cheer for young men, many of whom are Black, as they cross the stage and step into the next chapter of their lives. It’s a reminder that sports are one of the last universal languages we have.

Case in point: Joe Rogan, who moved from sports commentary into political influence without missing a beat. Like many, I’m one of millions who grew up watching Fear Factor and the UFC before Rogan became a podcaster with outsized political influence. For years, Rogan gained cultural traction and became a credible messenger on “regular” things like sports and reality TV, representing entertainment, toughness, and what it means to win. That cultural trust gave him the space to move into politics, and, for many, his word was easy to trust. His influence didn’t come from political gravitas. It came from cultural familiarity.

Plenty of voices on the left claim the need for “our own Joe Rogan,” but they misunderstand how Rogan became Rogan. His influence didn’t start with politics; it started with presence, consistency, and cultural fluency. By the time he started talking politics, people already felt like they knew him. And that’s the part that so many left-leaning people do not understand. Many often assume it’s politics that builds culture. But the truth is that it’s the other way around. Culture builds politics. Culture makes people care. Culture opens the door. And the NFL draft is an open door we’re ignoring completely.

The NFL understands the cultural pull of the draft. When a scheduling conflict caused it to move out of New York’s Radio City Music Hall and began hitting the road in 2015, the NFL unlocked a gold mine. Since then, cities including Chicago, Nashville, Las Vegas, and my hometown of Kansas City have hosted the draft—with massive success. The Kansas City NFL draft was a blast. More than 300,000 people flooded downtown, local businesses thrived, and NFL fans from across the country left with a deeper appreciation of the city’s energy and character. That impact was shown by the draft’s estimated $164 million economic impact for the city, far exceeding projections of $100 million.

But though the NFL is building brand loyalty and local engagement, organizers, movement builders, and civic leaders are failing to activate people during this moment. The draft is a goldmine for civic connection, but the potential has not been unlocked. Whether it’s polling firms gathering insights from people who don’t usually respond to traditional outreach, or researchers conducting qualitative interviews about how life is going for everyday Americans, this is a missed opportunity. Elected officials—especially in the host city—should be present, accessible, and using this space to humanize themselves, not hide behind press releases detailing their support and excitement for the event coming to their city. There’s a real chance to meet constituents where they are, and yet that potential goes untapped.

Consider this year’s NFL draft in Green Bay, Wisconsin—a swing state and a prime opportunity to engage a national audience. Tens of thousands of fans will travel from across the country, united by their love of football. But the civic infrastructure needed to channel that unity into something lasting is nowhere to be found. Why isn’t there a low-lift, culture-forward activation, something that could be called Fans, and Football, and Facts—a pop-up experience energized by the culture itself that also opens the door to real conversations about things that impact affect people every day, like the rising cost of NFL Sunday Ticket, the need to juggle the affordability of multiple streaming platforms just to follow one team, or how watching football has become a luxury tied to whether or not you have fast, reliable internet. Done right, it wouldn’t feel like politics. It would feel like culture that informs. And that’s the point.

Sports are often a purveyor of joy and provide an opportunity to bring people together when their hearts and minds are more open than otherwise would be, and in that opportunity, civic engagement can thrive. The tailgates, autograph lines, and community moments are where trust is built, and trust is the precondition to any growing and successful political movement. That’s how you change what people value.

Politics, after all, is not just what happens in Congress. It’s who gets what, when, and how. And if you want to shift that equation, you have to meet people where their attention already lives.

I’m not saying turn the NFL draft into a protest. I’m saying stop pretending it doesn’t matter. Civil society isn’t reinforced solely through campaign ads or court rulings. It grows in the spaces where people gather, laugh, cheer, and believe—even if just for a moment—that something better is possible. Millions watch the NFL draft and don't recognize that it is rich with untapped potential to build something far more meaningful than a roster. Athletes have never been afraid to use their moment. It’s time movement builders stopped being afraid to meet them there.

Michael Franklin is the Founder and Chief Thought Leadership Officer of Words Normalize Behavior, a speechwriting, executive communications, and coalition-building agency.

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