Browns Trade Pitch Dumps David Njoku for Draft Capital
Because of the general mediocrity–or even less-than-mediocrity–of the AFC North here in 2025, the Browns are in the odd position of being simultaneously awful offensively, great defensively, just 2-6 record-wise, and still not out of the running to win the division. With the bye week and the NFL trade deadline approaching, Cleveland appears to be at an inflection point on a few different levels.
They need assets for the long term. They need to get better in the short term.
Maybe the best way to accomplish the first without wrecking the second could be a move of tight end David Njoku, a star and a Pro Bowler three years ago who has been worn down by age (29) and a multitude of injuries since he was a first-round pick from Miami in 2017.
With the Browns having found a successor (Harold Fannin Jr.) at his position, trading Njoku in the coming days seems to be as certain a bet as Cleveland can make in the coming days.
Browns David Njoku Could Help Bucs
With that in mind, Heavy’s Max Dible proposes sending Njoku to the NFC, where he could bolster an ailing group of pass-catchers in Tampa Bay, with a third-day pick in 2026 coming back to Cleveland–a fifth-rounder, at best. It’s about all the Browns could hope for in exchange for Njoku at this stage.
Writes Dible: “David Njoku is a competent tight end who can help a high-octane offense in Tampa Bay that needs some more pass-catching due to a handful of injuries to some of its top options, including Mike Evans and Chris Godwin.
“The Browns are 2-6 and drafted Harold Fannin Jr. in the third round, who looks like a hit. Njoku probably isn’t coming back after he becomes a free agent next year, so getting a fifth-round pick, or the like, for him now makes more sense than letting him walk for nothing — especially since keeping Njoku for the rest of this season isn’t likely to change Cleveland’s fate.”
Browns Building Up Draft Capital
The Browns, of course, have already been busy on the trade market this season, going back to the draft-day trade of the No. 2 overall pick to the Jaguars for what is looking like an excellent haul–No. 5 pick Mason Graham, second-rounder Quinshon Judkins and Jacksonville’s 2026 first-rounder, currently projected at No. 18 overall.
At the end of training camp, Cleveland also dealt Kenny Pickett for a fifth-round pick.
The Browns swapped a sixth-rounder for a fifth-rounder by sending Joe Flacco to the Bengals, and brought in cornerback Tyson Campbell for CB Greg Newsome, swapping down from a sixth-rounder to a seventh-rounder in that deal.
David Njoku Trade Would Be Costly
Trading Njoku would require the Browns to take on a significant chunk of dead cap next season–a payment of $24 million that does not transfer to his new team. Alternatively, the Browns could give Njoku, an impending free agent, an extension and spread out that payment, though the team is likely more inclined to simply take the lump and move on.
Njoku has 27 catches for 260 yards this season, with two touchdowns for a team that has scored only seven passing touchdowns this season.
At Pro Football Focus, Njoku has a grade of 53.8, No. 63 out of 75 graded tight ends. That’s his worst rating of his career.
SAD NEWS: Joe Castiglione’s Legendary Voice Falls Silent
SAD NEWS: Joe Castiglione’s Legendary Voice Falls Silent — After 41 Seasons, the Soul of Fenway Says Goodbye, Leaving Boston Wrapped in Tears and Timeless Echoes
When Joe Castiglione stepped into the Fenway Park booth for the final time, even the chatter of batting practice seemed to quiet down — as if baseball itself knew something sacred was ending. For 41 seasons, his voice carried Boston through heartbreaks, miracles, and championships. On Sunday afternoon, it carried one last goodbye.
Castiglione, 77, announced his retirement as the Red Sox’s radio play-by-play announcer, closing one of the most remarkable broadcasting careers in baseball history. From the heartbreak of 1986 to the curse-breaking joy of 2004, his tone — warm, poetic, and timeless — became the soundtrack of generations.
“Every day at Fenway felt like a gift,” Castiglione said through tears. “This city, this team… they’ve been my life.”
For many fans, he wasn’t just a voice. He was a friend. The one who narrated their childhood summers, who filled kitchen radios during night games, who turned quiet commutes into moments of magic. His signature calls — especially the unforgettable
Alex Cora, who was part of that 2004 team, put it simply: “Joe didn’t just describe baseball. He
Over his career, Castiglione called more than 6,000 Red Sox games. He was there for Pedro’s dominance, Ortiz’s heroics, and Mookie’s magic. But beyond the highlights, his true gift was connection — the ability to make every listener, from Maine to Worcester to Rhode Island, feel like they were sitting right beside him in the booth.
“His voice was comfort,” said a longtime Fenway usher. “You’d hear it crack with emotion, and you knew he loved this as much as we did.”
What made Joe different wasn’t just his mastery of the game’s rhythm, but his humility. Despite his Hall of Fame career, he never saw himself as the story. He once said, “I’m just the lucky guy with the microphone who got to tell Boston’s favorite bedtime story — every night for 41 years.”
Still, behind that modesty was a master craftsman. His preparation was legendary — handwritten scorecards, meticulous notes, and a habit of arriving hours before anyone else. Colleagues recall how he’d quietly rehearse names of new players, ensuring every word was right when the red light went on.
His final broadcast wasn’t about statistics or standings. It was about gratitude. “To every listener who turned that dial, who made me part of your day — thank you,” he said, pausing as the crowd at Fenway stood and applauded. “You made my dream last a lifetime.”
As the final pitch crossed the plate, Castiglione signed off in his signature calm tone — steady, heartfelt, and eternal. “For the final time from Fenway Park, this is Joe Castiglione saying… so long, everybody.”
There was no music. No highlight reel. Just silence. And then, a wave of applause that seemed to come from every corner of Red Sox Nation — a chorus of gratitude for a man whose voice defined an era.
In a city that worships legends, Joe Castiglione never swung a bat, never threw a pitch, but he gave Boston something just as rare — belonging.
And as dusk fell over Fenway, one fan held up a sign that said it all:
