Dan Johnson runs through his biggest winners and losers from the first round of the 2026 NFL Draft in Pittsburgh.
The first round of the 2026 NFL Draft never really settled into a groove. It started with clarity—Las Vegas taking Fernando Mendoza—and then quickly fractured into competing ideas about team-building. Running back value got pushed to the top of the board. Hybrid defenders went earlier than expected. Teams toggled between immediate impact and long-term projection, often within the same range of picks. The result was a series of decisions shaped by team philosophy, timing, and tolerance for risk.
There were moments of precision. Kansas City moved exactly when it needed to. Philadelphia capitalized on hesitation. New York stayed disciplined and let the board come to it. But there were also moments where the draft felt like a bet against the present—teams choosing development over contribution, or creating questions where there could have been answers. That tension defined the night more than any single pick.
Which is why this class isn’t best understood by grading individual selections in isolation. The more useful lens is impact—who actually improved their situation, who controlled the board, and who left value on it. The winners and losers from this draft won and lost based on alignment between roster, timeline, and decision-making.
My analysis below. Follow me @dansby_edits for more.
The Giants win this draft by refusing to get cute—and then doubling down on it. At No. 5, they stayed put and landed Arvell Reese, one of the highest-upside defenders in the class: 82 tackles, nine tackles for loss, 4.5 sacks, plus elite range at 6-foot-4, ~230 pounds with 4.4 speed. But the real value is how he bends structure. Reese played 650+ snaps across multiple alignments—box, edge, and space—and produced across all of them. He’s not just a linebacker; he’s a movable pressure piece in a league that increasingly values that flexibility.
And the discipline didn’t stop there. By holding at No. 10 and taking Francis Mauigoa, they paired upside defense with 87.0 pass-blocking grade, one sack allowed on 557 snaps, and just three sacks allowed across 1,500+ career reps. That’s how you build a roster: don’t chase chaos, eliminate it. In a draft defined by volatility, the Giants created stability.
Kansas City did what Kansas City always does—they saw the board before it broke. Trading up to No. 6 for Mansoor Delane wasn’t aggressive for the sake of it; it was surgical. Delane’s profile is exactly what contenders pay for: zero touchdowns allowed, 11 pass breakups, sub-50% completion rate allowed, and just 14 targets on 138 man-coverage snaps. Quarterbacks didn’t throw at him. That’s value.
The key is timing. The corner tier was about to collapse, and the Chiefs removed the risk entirely. This isn’t a projection pick. This is a Day 1 perimeter stabilizer who allows the rest of the defense to be more aggressive. That’s how you draft when you’re already good—you eliminate weak points.
This is the steal of the night, and it’s also a flex. Makai Lemon finished with 79 catches, 1,156 yards and 11 touchdowns, plus 2.8 yards per route run, over 500 yards after the catch and 20-plus missed tackles forced—and he was on the phone with Pittsburgh when Philadelphia took him anyway. That’s not just drafting. That’s interception.
The context makes it sharper. With A.J. Brown moved, Philadelphia needed volume, not just talent. Lemon gives them both. He commanded a 26% target rate, generated explosive plays from the slot and outside, and averaged over 6.0 yards after catch per reception. He’s not a replacement—he’s a redefinition. This offense gets faster, more flexible, and more efficient underneath.
Roseman didn’t just fill a hole. He turned someone else’s plan into his advantage.
Simpson is a winner independent of team outcome. He lands in Los Angeles, where he’ll sit behind Matthew Stafford and learn inside Sean McVay’s system, one of the most structured quarterback environments in football. At Alabama, he showed flashes—2,800 yards, 21 touchdowns and 7 interceptions, plus 300-plus rushing yards—but the processing and timing weren’t fully consistent yet.
What makes this landing spot more interesting is the tone around it. In the Rams’ post-pick presser, McVay came off—whether performatively or not—noticeably restrained, even a little frustrated, while Les Snead was visibly energized about the selection. That contrast matters. It reinforces what the pick already suggests: this is a front-office bet on traits and long-term development more than an immediate coaching-driven need.
And that’s why Simpson still wins. He gets time, structure and a clear developmental runway instead of being thrown into chaos. He goes from projection to plan—even if the timeline belongs more to Snead than McVay right now.
Emphasis on 2026. This is not about whether Ty Simpson becomes a good quarterback—it’s about what this pick does right now. At No. 13, the Rams had access to immediate offensive impact: Makai Lemon (79 catches, 1,156 yards, 11 touchdowns, 2.8 yards per route run, 500-plus yards after catch) or Kenyon Sadiq (eight touchdowns, 4.39 speed at 245 pounds, vertical seam stress). Those are players who step into the lineup and change how defenses play Los Angeles this season.
Instead, they take Simpson, whose 2025 profile (above) points to a developmental timeline, not a Week 1 contributor. That means a top-15 asset is now sitting. For a roster built around a veteran quarterback and a closing competitive window, that’s a real opportunity cost.
And the context matters. In the post-pick presser, Sean McVay came off restrained, even slightly frustrated, while Les Snead looked energized about the long-term play. That disconnect reinforces the tension: this is a front-office timeline move on a coaching staff trying to win now.
The Rams didn’t get worse as a team or an organization by any means. But they didn’t get better where it matters—on the field in 2026. For a contender, that’s a loss. At the very least, it’s a tough pill to swallow.
This is a loser outcome because the Patriots turned what should have been a settled position into an active question.
Campbell’s profile has always been about reliability: high snap volume, clean pass sets, low pressure rates, and the ability to survive without help. But it has also come with a known limitation—arm length and margin for error against longer edge rushers. That was manageable when he was clearly the answer. It becomes a problem the moment there’s an alternative.
And now there is. Caleb Lomu brings the prototype: longer frame, easier extension, wider strike zone, and a body type that naturally absorbs NFL power. That contrast is stark. Campbell wins with technique and timing; Lomu wins with space and reach. If Lomu looks comfortable early—whether in camp, preseason, or rotational reps—the comparison becomes unavoidable.
That’s where this shifts from evaluation to environment. Offensive line play depends on continuity and defined roles, and the Patriots now have neither at a premium spot. Instead of letting Campbell settle into a long-term track, they’ve introduced a competing timeline. Every pressure allowed, every rep against length, every anchor test becomes part of a larger question.
It also changes how defenses approach them. If there’s uncertainty at tackle, opponents will probe it—wide alignments, long-arm rushers, late counters—forcing New England to either provide help or expose the matchup. That limits what the offense can call.
Pittsburgh is the cleanest third loser because the miss was so public and so immediate. Makai Lemon was reportedly on the phone with the Steelers before Philadelphia jumped in and took him, which turns this from a normal board pivot into one of the night’s most brutal snipes. Lemon would have given Pittsburgh instant juice: 79 catches, 1,156 yards, 11 touchdowns, 2.8 yards per route run, over 500 yards after the catch and 20-plus missed tackles forced. That is ready-made slot/Z production for an offense that needed more separation, more easy touches and more after-catch stress.
Instead, the Steelers pivoted to Max Iheanachor, a fascinating but developmental Arizona State tackle who only started playing football in 2021. The tools are real, but the timeline is very different. Iheanachor is a traits bet at a premium position, not an immediate offensive accelerant. For Pittsburgh, that makes the pick harder to digest in the short term. They went from almost landing one of the most polished playmakers in the class to taking a tackle whose best football may still be a year or two away.
That doesn’t make Iheanachor a bad pick. It makes the sequence painful. Philadelphia didn’t just beat Pittsburgh to a player; it hijacked the moment. The Steelers left Round 1 with upside, but the Eagles left with the exact weapon Pittsburgh seemed ready to add.
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