Your running back
was doomed
at birth.

Bucky Irving

RB · Tampa Bay Buccaneers · ♎ Libra

Pluto and Neptune are actively conspiring against his stat line, and the press-conference nonsense part of his game is spiritually compromised. Under a balsamic Pisces Moon, a Libra RB negotiates with contact instead of accepting it, so he is scheduled to stutter-step behind a pulling guard, get swallowed in the backfield for a four-yard loss, and look at the referee like he was betrayed by Caesar. Today that curdles into a fumble on the one-yard line that becomes a group-chat meme. The Bucs did not hand him generational wealth for this, yet the stars have already etched it into stone. Todd Bowles is calling this one around Baker Mayfield, in a building defined by a pirate ship that fires a cannon into the emotional stability of visiting secondaries, and he is in the last year of a deal the front office keeps calling "a conversation for after the season," so the incentives are already crooked. There is a turf-shoe betrayal coming on 3rd & inches, on national television, in high definition. The referee crew assigned to this game has flagged his offense more than anyone else in the league, and the boosters of your bank account already know it. If you start him, prepare to stare at your matchup screen in silence while your league group chat floods with clown emojis.

TRANSLATION: STARTING HIM IS A PUBLIC ADMISSION THAT YOU ENJOY SUFFERING.