For most of this millennium, talking about the Detroit Lions in a serious football conversation was like ordering steak at a gas station diner—you could do it, but everyone knew it would be an underwhelming proposition. They’ve been rebuilding for longer than most fans can pinpoint. From 0–16 in 2008 to the infamous playoff drought dating back to before the iPhone existed, the Lions were synonymous with dysfunction. That’s what made their 2024 season under Dan Campbell so charged.

Campbell’s toughness-driven team plowed through to a 15–2 mark, took the No.1 seed in the NFC, and boasted the NFL’s highest point differential. For once, they weren’t merely good, they were outright dominant. The new challenge that’s been put in front of them, however? That’s gonna take something even more special.

For a man who used to speak of nibbling off kneecaps and converting skeptics into believers, Dan Campbell has faced some crazy expectations. But even the Lions’ head coach, who took Detroit from laughing stock to serious Super Bowl contender, couldn’t anticipate this one. Because now, it seems, his team must win two championships. One of them? Absolutely impossible. In her first formal Senate floor speech, Democratic Senator Elissa Slotkin caused ripples not on policy but with a daring, highly confusing football opinion:“The Detroit Lions are gonna win the National Championship & the Super Bowl this year….. they were on the toilet for years.”

Yes, you read that correctly. National Championship and the Super Bowl. In the same year. For the same team. For anyone that’s not had their morning coffee yet, here’s a reminder. One is the jewel of college football. The other? That’s the NFL’s best-in-show prize. And just for clarity’s sake, the Detroit Lions are a pro football team. As in, they don’t play against 19-year-old college students on Saturdays. So unless some college is discreetly signing up Jared Goff or Dan Campbell is moonlighting as a college coach, the Lions have precisely zero hope of competing for a National Championship. That was half cheerleading, half geography mistake, and a full-on football face-plant. Perhaps it was a sincere effort at appealing to her Michigan constituency, but it certainly left sports enthusiasts around the country questioning whether the Senate should begin publishing “Playbooks for Dummies.”

In fairness, Slotkin’s entire quote was heartfelt. She was attempting to highlight the Lions’ progression from years of irrelevance to contender. One that has sparked Detroit and converted long-time doubters into believers. But connecting two entirely disparate championships is akin to pronouncing LeBron’s gonna win Wimbledon—spirited, but completely off the mark. No, the Lions are not playing Georgia or Alabama anytime soon.

When political metaphors fumble the ball

Now, in a bit of fairness to Senator Slotkin, this was not some sinister mistake. It was more a coffee-fueled, motivational speech gone awry. Her intent was as clear as day: To compliment the Lions’ insane turnaround and use their success to energize her message. And genuinely, who can blame her? After all, the Lions weren’t merely “better” in 2024, they were a wrecking ball. Campbell made Detroit a blue-collar behemoth founded on grit, misfit juice, and no-bulls— football. For a city that has endured more false promises than winter potholes, it was redemption.

But there is a distinction between optimism and fantasy. And placing the National Championship in the Lions’ trophy case was like asking a NASCAR driver to win the Tour de France. It just doesn’t add up. Despite that, this wasn’t Slotkin’s inaugural foray into gridiron metaphors. In reality, she’s sort of incorporated football into her entire political identity. At the beginning of the month, in an interview with the New York Times, she encouraged Democrats to take back what she described as “alpha energy.” And she credited Dan Campbell for inspiration for strong, emotional messaging.

“In the Midwest, alpha energy is about emotion,” Slotkin said. That same passion flame appeared again in her “economic war plan” speech, and she’s teased out more strong-talking, football-peripheral rhetoric on the way, particularly when it comes to defense and national security.

But here’s the issue: you can’t just throw sports metaphors around like beads at Mardi Gras. Especially when you begin mixing two entirely different leagues and championship systems. Sports fans pay attention. Especially Michigan sports fans. Slotkin’s Lions shout-out might have been a home run (you see?), but it ended up in foul territory in the end.

To the untrained ear, perhaps it didn’t make a difference. But to those who’ve spent Sundays yelling at Ford Field televisions—and Saturdays arguing about Harbaugh’s play-calling—it was a cringefest. Because if Slotkin was trying to pump up Detroit’s football loyal, she could have potentially mystified half of them in the process. The Wolverines were already National Champs in early 2024, while the Lions were busy trying to achieve their first Super Bowl. Highly different trajectories. Highly different player rosters.

Even Dan Campbell, the emotional press conference king, would likely draw a blank stare if he were asked how he intends to defeat Alabama later this fall. All the same, you have to give Slotkin credit. Not all senators can produce a viral sports gaffe and an economic security soundbite in the same week. And her emotionally charged politics with locker-room speak and underdog fervor does appeal to a lot of Midwestern voters.

But these are the moments that serve as reminders that metaphors require maps. And as much as the people of Detroit would like to sweep all the trophies off the planet, they’ll be content with one thing: that elusive Lombardi. And as for the National Championship? Perhaps leave that one to the collegians. Dan Campbell’s got his plate full already.