There was no playbook for what Deion Sanders walked into on the morning of March 1st. Dominiq Ponder, a 23-year-old walk-on quarterback from Opa Locka, Florida, had passed away just hours earlier in a single-car crash in Boulder County. A week later, Deion Sanders stood at the Glenn Miller Ballroom on the Colorado campus. And when he spoke, it sounded like a man who had genuinely been searching for an answer to a question no one should have to ask. 

“When we win, when we overcome, we never question God,” Sanders said. “But when we’re hurting, when we’re mourning, that’s when we ask ‘why.’ I think I have an answer.” He continued, “Dom was chosen. That’s why we’re here. Who else represents God’s kingdom, like Dom? Always smiling, always happy, always loving and caring, and one of the toughest workers. How else could a walk-on quarterback lead the quarterback room? Because Dom was chosen.”

Sanders barely made it through what came next. He said, “The only thing I regret,” he said, “is that when you sent us a boy, I wanted to send you back a man.” 

The room went quiet. Sanders spoke for only about four minutes, but the weight of those four minutes filled every corner of that ballroom. He told the team he would be on every single one of them because their parents sent them there to become men, not to make it home, and that he would always acknowledge Dom and always allow people to understand the kind of young man he was.

Because the thing about Dom Ponder is that his story isn’t really about touchdowns or numbers. He had two rushes and one pass attempt across two games for the Buffaloes. And yet everyone from Deion Sanders to offensive coordinator Brennan Marion couldn’t stop talking about him like he was the heartbeat of the entire program. That’s because of what he did at 5:30 in the morning. Marion, who had only known Dom for a few months since arriving in Colorado, spoke to the team the day after the crash. 

“You had to tell Dom to stop working so hard,” Marion said. “Just being around a kid like that, his energy was contagious as far as his work ethic.” 

Dom’s parents, Wendell and Catrina Ponder, made the trip from Florida to Boulder to meet their son’s teammates face-to-face.

“He was home over break,” Wendell told the team, “and he said, ‘Dad, Boulder is going to be my home.'” He told his father he was never leaving, that if he made it to the NFL, great, but if not, he was going to coach there, live there, and build a life there.” Catrina also added, “We don’t think we could get through it, to be honest. They spent more time with our boy over the last two years than we did.” 

When the 2026 Colorado season kicks off, Dom Ponder’s number will be stitched onto every uniform the Buffaloes wear. It is a permanent mark sewn into the fabric of a program he poured himself into without ever being asked to. At the memorial, Wendell Ponder stood before his son’s teammates one last time and gave them the only send-off that felt right. 

“To the team, I want you to go play for Dom,” he said. “This opponent will have 11 players. You will have 12.” 

That’s the legacy that he had built. Dom Ponder chose Colorado. And Colorado will carry him for as long as football is played in Boulder.

“He Reminded Me Why We Do This”

Deion Sanders wasn’t the only one who had to find the right words that Saturday morning. Pat Shurmur, the former Colorado offensive coordinator, came back to Boulder specifically to be there. Because Dom Ponder had done something to him that he couldn’t shake off.

“I’m struggling with this,” Shurmur admitted to the room. He told everyone he could speak about Dom “for days.” He graded players on a scale of zero to five, and when it came to Ponder, Shurmur said without hesitation, “He’s all fives.” 

He told the room he felt honored to have worked with him, that Dom had inspired him just as much as he had ever inspired Dom, and that he had “reminded me why we as coaches do what we do: to work with young, terrific men like him.”

Shurmur and Ponder used to sit next to each other in morning meetings. Every single day, Shurmur would walk in, tap Dom’s wrist, say hello, and get back a bright, unreserved smile. On the days when it was tough, it was Dom who would turn to him and ask, “Pat, how are you doing?” 

A walk-on quarterback checking in on a veteran coach. Shurmur wrapped up his tribute by saying, “He made as big an impact on me as maybe I did on him.” That might just be the truest thing anyone said about Dom Ponder.