In a move designed to soothe fantasy owners everywhere, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers announced that wide receiver Jalen McMillan will miss regular-season time due to a neck injury. Coaches offered the typical mix of medical jargon and mysticism, promising that the situation is ‘day-to-day’ until it’s not, which is basically every football season.

General managers described the injury as a ‘neck situation’ that will be handled with precision, panic, and several charts nobody can read. The press conference featured more nervous smiles than a college exam, and the only thing missing was a motivational poster of a sloth lifting weights.

Analysts immediately began recalculating the Buccaneers’ deep-ball probabilities using a dartboard, a fortune cookie, and a crystal ball from a souvenir shop. Fans expressed solidarity by loudly tweeting about their own random body parts hurting after watching a training camp highlight reel.

Meanwhile, the team announced that the ‘Next Man Up’ program would be implemented by rotating an unnamed practice squad receiver with the charm of a substitute teacher. The plan is as serious as a sponsor break during a crisis, which is to say very serious and completely negotiable.

Jalen McMillan himself posted a cheerful update that sounded suspiciously like a short vacation announcement, insisting he plans to work on his recovery while maintaining his costume-change game for the media. The quarterback room reportedly built a neck-stability shrine that could double as a trendy coffee station.

Rumors circulated that his injury was a clever cover for a brutal preseason hangover caused by too much celebratory dancing after a practice win.

Team doctors assured fans that this is not a ‘season-ending’ label but a ‘season-splinter,’ which apparently means the season will be splintered into days off, where players pretend to be human mannequins.

On social media, fans argued about whether the Buccaneers are tanking, mentoring, or just trying to catch up with the practice squad’s fashion choices.

Still, the team hosted a fan expo featuring neck-friendly gadgets and a live demonstration of recovery mindfulness, and some attendees wandered off to google ‘‘adjustable neck brace’’ between autograph lines.

Coaches insisted that replacing McMillan will be a collaborative effort across the receiving corps, the offensive line, and the snack cart, which has to work overtime when the pace slows. If you listen closely, you can hear the sound of a thousand fantasy rosters sighing.

Some fans suggested that the team should pivot to a stealth marketing angle and rename the offense the ‘Next Man Up Experience,’ a concept that would require a lot of popcorn.

An NFL insider noted the off-field renaissance of accessible recovery gear, suggesting that readers search for ‘‘portable cold therapy wrap’’ to cope with existential dread after roster cuts.

Meanwhile, tickets for the upcoming home game are trending as the hottest accessory for people who like screaming at their televisions.

Analysts predicted the Buccaneers will lean heavily on their running game, which in this context means the running doctors run around in a circle while the team pretends to be unfazed.

Media hype pumped up a ‘return timeline’ that may or may not be written in invisible ink, which would be perfectly appropriate for a season where everything is subject to interpretation.

A few players attempted to pivot the coverage to a charity auction featuring signed neck supports, promising proceeds would go to the most impressive medical jargon.

City journalists have begun filing dispatches from the team’s practice facility, where the mascot wore a neck-shaped prop to remind everyone of the gravity of non-contact drills.

While the season-opening strategy remains in flux, the Buccaneers insist they’re not panicking; they’re simply conducting a long-form experiment in patience, powered by Gatorade and irony.

Jalen McMillan issued a video update that looked more like a vacation reel than an injury report, which is exactly the vibe every star wants when life imitates sports marketing.

Fans started comparing the setback to other players who returned faster from similar ailments, because nothing says resilience like a Google search history of ‘how to pretend to be hurt’.

Ultimately, the organization says the plan remains to maximize development and minimize risk, which is sports-speak for ‘we’re hoping you forget about this by Week 8’.

Until then, the Buccaneers will continue their experimental approach to roster depth, because chaos is cheaper than a steady offense, and everyone’s favorite sport remains pretending to be surprised by injuries.