Joe Mixon

Hot Takes

CharlieTraplin• 3 d ago

Listen here, Joe Mixon, my sweet bubba, you better tape those ankles, glue those hamstrings, and bubble-wrap that entire body like you’re about to be shipped via Amazon Prime, because the fantasy world needs you healthier than a Whole Foods salad bar. I don’t care if you need to soak in pickle juice, sit in a cryotherapy chamber with penguins, or let Grandma rub Vicks Vaporub on your knees while you hum gospel hymns—just get right, my man. I drafted you like you were the golden ticket to Willy Wonka’s factory, and now every time I see “questionable” next to your name I start sweating like I just ate Taco Bell before a job interview. We need you cutting, juking, stiff-arming defenders back into their Pop Warner leagues, not sitting on the sidelines looking like the world’s most expensive cheerleader. Bubba, you’re my RB1, my Sunday joy, the sweet cinnamon roll of my roster—so please, for the love of touchdowns and my blood pressure, get healthy quicker than a Popeyes line moves when they announce the chicken sandwich is back.