Wisconsin's Gov. Tony Evers is feeling the heat after posting a self-throwing football video to prep for the 2025 NFL Draft, prompting a social media roast over his questionable skills and Bears-style technique.

Evers’ attempt to showcase his athletic prowess backfired spectacularly, as critics from both sides of the political aisle took to social media to question his coordination—some even suggesting his technique could rival that of a Chicago Bears quarterback. With the 2025 NFL Draft set to make history in Green Bay, the smallest market in the league, Evers' subpar warmup is a reminder that throwing shade might be more up his alley than throwing a football.

The video features Evers, donned in a fashionable Packers polo, showcasing his unique talent of throwing a football to himself—an activity that screenwriters surely had no intention of making a sport. His grand finale? A spiked ball that could be interpreted as a premature touchdown celebration, though it likely left viewers wondering if he was ever truly in possession of the ball at all. Perhaps his aim was to create a viral sensation, but instead, he achieved a seemingly custom blend of 'low energy' and 'awkward confusion' that sparked a new genre of political humor.

While some might argue that no publicity is bad publicity, Evers' video certainly gave birth to a new wave of jesters. Conservative podcaster Stephen L. Miller couldn't resist taking a jab at Evers’ plight, querying how Democrats could lose the male vote by 80% despite such astounding displays of athleticism. Perhaps the answer lies not in the throwing, but rather in the catching—or lack thereof—seeing as Evers caught the football only after it ricocheted off the wall of his own house. It’s this precise blend of confidence and execution (or lack thereof) that has positioned him as an unintended comedic figure of the season.

He wasn’t alone, of course, as social media exploded with commentary ranging from admiring disbelief to outright mockery. Observations flooded in, with users questioning if Evers was a hidden star in the world of non-competitive football, or perhaps an early candidate for the 'Most Likely to Spike' award. Many noted that if catching were an official Olympic sport, Evers might outsell his political career in no time. One can't help but think that somewhere, somehow, a Bears fan was gleefully adding this footage to their highlight reel of QBs who can't throw to save their lives.

Evers' audacity to warm up for the draft was only complimented by the fact that this year's NFL Draft would be occurring for the first time in Green Bay—hallowed ground for Packers fans. What might have sparked joy for local residents turned into an avenue for jests at the governor's expense, with sentiments floating around that perhaps Evers should just stick to cutting ribbons instead of trying to cut through the air with a football. Green Bay’s expected guest count of 250,000 for the draft put even more pressure on the governor as comedic moments grew in number—his own video seemingly elevating the stakes like a football in the end zone.

But all wasn't fun and games for Evers, who also took to social media to drape himself in the undeniable cheeriness of the draft stage. Either through sheer determination or blind optimism, he interacted with fans in an attempt to dispel the increasingly barbed critiques circulating online. Yet, the metaphorical weight of the draft loomed heavy on Evers; being the city’s public face could either shine infamy upon him or thrust him into a brighter political future if he managed not to trip over his own tongue—or his uncoordinated self.

Adding to Evers' woes, the White House couldn’t resist throwing its own football into the arena. They shared a video of President Biden expertly tossing a football, thus providing a sparkling contrast to Evers' somewhat more comedic spectacle. It would seem that amidst the mocking, Biden's suave throw was a testament to how one might perform a coordinated athletic endeavor while serving the public—a lesson likely not lost on Evers as he conducted damage control amidst the storm of tweets.

Ultimately, this saga speaks volumes about the nature of political celebrity in today's landscape. With an entire community’s pride on the line and an audience craving authentic experiences, perhaps this draft year could serve as a sobering reminder that politicians are better off sticking to policies rather than sports performances. Yet, as Evers faces this onslaught, he might just find that a little humility—with overt attempts at athleticism—serves as the perfect setup for what could be seen as the draft's most unexpected comedy act. After all, who needs touchdowns when Twitter serves up more than enough for laughs?