By: Jeremy T. Ballreich
Every draft cycle has a quarterback who forces evaluators to throw out the rulebook. A player who doesn’t fit neatly into archetypes, who breaks structure as often as he creates it, and who somehow turns chaos into production. In the 2026 NFL Draft, that quarterback is Diego Pavia, the former New Mexico State folk hero who transferred to Vanderbilt and brought his backyard‑ball magic to the SEC.
At 6’0”, 210 pounds, Pavia doesn’t look like the prototype. He doesn’t throw like the prototype. He doesn’t play like the prototype. But he competes like a man who refuses to acknowledge he’s outmatched — and that competitive fire is the foundation of his game. Pavia is a quarterback who plays with a chip on his shoulder the size of a cinder block, and it shows on every snap.
Before arriving at Vanderbilt, Pavia was the engine behind New Mexico State’s resurgence, leading the Aggies to back‑to‑back bowl appearances and becoming one of the most electric dual‑threat quarterbacks in the Group of Five. His 2023 season — 2,915 passing yards, 26 touchdowns, 7 interceptions, plus 856 rushing yards and 6 scores — put him on the national radar. But the move to the SEC was the real test: could his playmaking translate against NFL‑caliber athletes?
The answer, surprisingly, was yes. Vanderbilt didn’t suddenly become a powerhouse, but Pavia gave them something they hadn’t had in years: a quarterback who could create offense out of thin air. His 2025 season showcased the same traits that made him a cult hero — toughness, improvisation, and a refusal to go down on first contact. He threw for over 2,400 yards, added 500+ rushing yards, and accounted for 20 total touchdowns, all while facing some of the toughest defenses in college football.
Pavia’s game starts with his competitiveness. He plays like every snap is a street fight. He’s fearless attacking tight windows, fearless taking hits, and fearless extending plays long after they should be dead. That mentality can get him into trouble, but it also fuels some of his best moments. When the pocket collapses, Pavia becomes a problem — a slippery, relentless scrambler who can escape pressure, reset his platform, and fire a strike on the move.
His arm talent is better than advertised. Pavia doesn’t have elite velocity, but he generates surprising torque from his hips and can drive the ball outside the numbers. His deep ball is one of his best weapons — high‑arching, well‑placed, and thrown with confidence. He’s especially dangerous on rollouts and bootlegs, where he can threaten defenses with both his legs and his ability to hit crossers on the move.
Mechanically, Pavia is a work in progress. His base can get narrow, his release can get rushed, and his accuracy dips when he tries to play hero ball. But when he’s in rhythm, he throws with touch, anticipation, and a natural feel for layering the ball over underneath defenders. He’s not a pure pocket passer, but he’s not a run‑first quarterback either — he’s a creator, a problem‑solver, and a player who thrives when the structure breaks down.
As a runner, Pavia is one of the toughest quarterbacks in the class. He’s not just elusive — he’s physical. He runs like a safety, lowering his shoulder, fighting for extra yards, and refusing to slide unless absolutely necessary. That competitiveness is admirable, but NFL teams will want him to protect himself better. Still, his mobility is a legitimate weapon. He can extend plays, convert third‑and‑mediums, and stress defenses with zone‑read and RPO concepts.
Where Pavia separates himself is in intangibles. Teammates gravitate toward him. Coaches rave about his toughness, his preparation, and his leadership. He’s the type of quarterback who elevates the energy of a locker room. He’s emotional, fiery, and unapologetically himself — traits that resonate with teammates and fans alike.
But Pavia is not without concerns. His size is below NFL average. His play style invites hits. His decision‑making can be volatile. And he’ll need to prove he can operate consistently from the pocket, especially on early downs. He’s not a clean projection — he’s a developmental quarterback with starter traits and backup floor.
Still, the upside is real. Pavia projects as a Day 3 pick with the potential to outperform his draft slot, much like Taylor Heinicke or Gardner Minshew — quarterbacks who weren’t supposed to make it but carved out careers through grit, intelligence, and playmaking.
Projection: Round 5–7 Role: Developmental QB3 with QB2 upside; spark‑plug playmaker Best Fits: Teams that value mobility, creativity, and competitive toughness; offenses with bootlegs, RPOs, and movement‑based concepts
Diego Pavia won’t be for everyone. He’s unconventional, unpredictable, and unpolished. But he’s also fearless, dynamic, and impossible to ignore. For the right team, he could become one of the most entertaining and beloved underdog stories in the league — the SEC wildcard who refused to play by the rules and made it work anyway.
