George Kittle steps out of the gym and gets a pat on the bum from his physio. The 49ers tight end walks with a tight groin down the inner sanctum of Levi’s Stadium. Down a hallway wallpapered in overwhelming motivation, quotes tattooed in different fonts, all found via Google image search. San Francisco greats fill in leftover space, hoisting hardware, and grabbing one another in glory. History drips from the walls and onto George’s Triple H inspired wet hair, thick and heavy and drooping over his eyes. George of the Jungle, now George of the Injury Reserve, mocked by the healthy groins all around him.
He stops for a moment at a Gatorade branded water fountain to collect himself. Water sputters across his lips as he stares out into empty space, not a drop of aqua absorbed. Body bent over the fountain but mind somewhere else entirely, off in another dimension, bouncing about an endless white void, similar to a Harry Potter afterlife scene.
It’s here in the void that George hears the voices growing louder.
What in the honest to heck am I going to do with Kittle? I drafted him in the 4th round and he’s already out!
Draft Sharks have George Kittle at a 92% chance of further injury in 2022, and a 13.8% chance of injury per game.
Dude, I’ll even throw in Kittle just to sweeten the deal..
ESPN Spin: Kittle has yet to step on the practice field since injuring his groin during an unofficial session on Monday. His lack of activity Wednesday isn’t a great sign.
The voices turn to floating heads. They appear as ghosts might, springing into existence with a puff of smoke and confetti. Heads of angry fantasy football managers from across the globe, circling about George’s brain, filling the void. His groin tingles as they spew out injury reports, trade offers, and desperate group chat messages.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!”
George snaps back in desperation, overwhelmed by the hordes of pimpled teens and middle-aged neckbeards now flying about in a frenzy. Full grown men in face paint, women from office leagues, and old high school mates fill the swarm.
“Healthy groin! Healthy groin! Healthy groin!”
They come together in a nightmare orchestra, cursing the tight groin, calling for a status change. George stands in the middle of the now black void, looking up at a tornado of chaos. He feels the walls of his mind shake with their fury as they come down on him at once.
“Kittle! You ok man?”
George snaps back to the hallway, still bent over a Gatorade fountain. A bead of sweat flicks off his nose as he turns to look. “You good man?”, an assistant uniform manager stands beside him.
George exhales, “yeah I’m good.”
“Good to hear. You know I’ve got you in fantasy this year. Need you back by week 2 baby, don’t let me down!”
