A son of Utah and member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Jaxson Dart stood behind a lectern with the presidential seal on it, and expressed how “grateful” he was to be there. How “honored” he was, even “pleasured.” He left no doubt that it gave him great satisfaction, excitement and joy to introduce President Donald Trump at a political rally over the weekend. But Abdul Carter, a Philly-born-and-raised observant Muslim, saw this and stewed.
Culturally, Carter had little in common with the conservative on that stage in Suffern, N.Y., and, as happens every day in America when our political fissures create friction, he aired his dissent to his online audience. He retweeted a video of Dart with the U.S. president, mocking the moment, dismissing it as “s—.” He questioned what Dart was doing on that stage.
Any other time, this wouldn’t have mattered — social media exists as the fertilizer for whatever thought passes through our heads. But Jaxson Dart isn’t your everyday White Republican. Abdul Carter isn’t just any Black man who’d be suspicious of the intentions of someone who’d gleefully align himself with the most divisive political movement of our lifetime.
Rather, they are New York Giants teammates and for a day, a duration of a news cycle, they offered a peek behind the curtain of how locker rooms are functioning in the Trump era. Even an NFL roster isn’t safe from the squabbles that happen in today’s political climate.
The misconception, however, was that it could be.
An NFL locker room is like a casserole cooked up by 53 different men. Safeties from the American South might form intense bonds with linemen from the Pacific Islands over a nine-month calendar. Believers who’d point to the sky after scoring touchdowns share the same space as religious nones. Anti-vaxxers and pro-choice advocates, “Dreams and Nightmares” sing-alongs after the Super Bowl, and “White Boy Wednesdays.” This all makes up an NFL workspace.
Yet every Sunday, cultural differences cease. Their identities as teammates take precedence over their individualities as complex human beings, for the greater good of the team. It is why the NFL locker room has been idealized as one of the few institutions in America that achieves ‘we over me.’
However, Dart’s appearance at a Trump rally and his teammate’s blunt and public critique showed the real America. Just like the rest of us, an NFL locker room has smoldering tensions that are ready to explode.
When’s the last time we’ve seen one NFL teammate confront another in such an open way? Let alone, a teammate feeling emboldened enough to call out the quarterback? Better yet — the franchise quarterback? This episode with Carter and Dart is giving 2020, when New Orleans Saints safety Malcolm Jenkins went public with his disappointment in quarterback Drew Brees’s stance on players kneeling during the national anthem. Still there’s a rarity to such rebukes, which is why it generated a storm of reaction across social media and news sites. On Saturday, after his tweet, Carter’s name ascended as a top trending topic — and depending on how your algorithm leans, he was either hailed as a real one for being so honest, or reduced to a snowflake by those who wish he’d just shut up and stick to football.
Before the sun went down on the day, however, Carter tried to squash the “narratives” that he very much created, and described Dart and himself as “good” after speaking to one another. Still, by Sunday afternoon, that backtrack paled in comparison to his original tweet, which had 52 million views and counting.
thought this sh!t was AI, what we doing man
— Abdul Carter (@1NCRDB1) May 23, 2026
The nine words Carter sent out to the world were succinct yet packed with emotion. Carter’s first inclination was to think that someone had used AI to create a video of his quarterback at a Trump rally. And perhaps the scene resembled a deep fake, because Carter had only known Dart — his draft classmate — to be down for the cause.
Early into his rookie season, Dart usurped Russell Wilson as QB1 in New York, and while capturing the hearts of fans, he showed a fondness for Black culture. He wore his chain out. He chose hip-hop artist Kodak Black as the conductor of his preferred walk-out song. He ran in for touchdowns and hit ‘em with the Rakai, then the Scuba (If you’re not familiar with these dances, just ask your young Black friend). He effortlessly imitated the colloquialism of the community: “Yo! Whaddup, Big Blue!” he said while shooting content for the team.
People in the comments ate up this cultural cosplay, all of it. As did the Giants’ locker room. Teammate Jameis Winston referred to Dart as the “swaggiest guy we know.” A kid who grew up north of Salt Lake City and played football at Ole Miss, and yet the “coldest White boy,” according to a segment of the Black community who operated at light speed to gift wrap ‘hood passes. But be careful of who you invite to the cookout. The guest might seem right at home with a plate of Big Mama’s potato salad, as they are with a MAGA movement that is trying to wipe out Big Mama’s congressional district.
Jaxson Dart, left, and Abdul Carter see themselves as the faces of the Giants’ franchise, even if they disagree on at least one thing. (Al Bello / Getty Images)
Last season, Carter, the third overall pick by the Giants in 2025, boldly declared that he and Dart don’t represent the organization’s future; they are the “now.” However, Dart, the 25th overall pick, wears the armor of the franchise quarterback. So, Dart possesses something even more powerful than swag — he has sway.
Without showing awareness of how his appearance with Trump might impact the locker room — or, not even caring — Dart openly showed his political allegiance. As the franchise quarterback, Dart has that protection. More so, an American with rights, Dart has that freedom.
The same holds for Carter. As an edge rusher, Carter might not yet possess the organizational pull as Dart (the team used its highest pick in 2026 to find an offensive lineman to help protect him), but Carter’s just as free to express himself as much as his teammate.
The dazzling quarterback from Utah and the sack master from Philadelphia will meet again face to face this week when the Giants resume their organized team activities. The locker room will again come together.
However, for any Giants teammate who disagrees with this president, it’s impossible to unsee their bling-wearing quarterback smiling and shaking Trump’s hand. Although Carter quickly tried to douse the rising flames, it’s improbable to believe that all of the Trump supporters inside New York’s locker room will simply disregard his reaction and move on.
They might be warriors who wear the same blue jerseys and share the same goals on Sundays. But, they are still people, a Mormon and a Muslim, with fundamental differences. No matter how much the White franchise quarterback loves to Scuba, the Black outside linebacker clearly does not mess with MAGA. Their differences might make the Giants the most American locker room in the NFL.