I watched the draft board shift not as numbers, but as silent prayers. Hugo Gonzalez slipped to 24—not a fall, but a recalibration of potential. Jase Richardson climbed to 29—not a rise, but a quiet affirmation of unseen grit. Behind every pick lies a story coded in motion graphics: the hesitation between the buzzer and the roar. This isn’t hype. It’s soul measured in seconds.