The NFL off-season just peaked in absurdist theater as Jaxson Dart allegedly convinced the New York Giants’ receivers to believe in him. Sources say the moment occurred during a voluntary workout where gravity apparently forgot its job and everyone nodded in prophetic confidence.

Giant receivers reportedly walked away with new mission statements scrawled in dry-erase marker: ‘We believe in Dart, or at least in pretending we do,’ and ‘One of them ones’ energy has officially infiltrated the training room. The mood allegedly grew by the minute.

Analysts are baffled, coaches are cautious, and Dart is floating on a cloud of praise that probably needs a FAA clearance.

The moment has already sparked a wave of memes about quarterbacks being peer-affirming influencers, as if Madden ratings were determined by warm fuzzy feelings alone.

Dart reportedly reminded everyone that belief is a demanding fuel, one that requires long throws and shorter excuses.

Meanwhile, Giants fans asked if this also comes with a playbook or just a pep talk.

The coach insisted it’s still early, emphasizing that ‘belief is a start’ and that ‘we’ll need more than belief to win games’.

In a move that sounds more startup than sport, the QB’s camp hinted at selling a line of motivational tech, calling it the ‘best quarterback training device’ that allegedly makes confidence transferable. Skeptics rolled their eyes, but the hype machine started a retroactive scouting report on people who believe in belief.

Fans are already picturing Dart leading dramatic fourth-quarter comebacks while Giants receivers collect coffee money from the hype train.

Merchandise teams shipped ‘Believe in Dart’ hoodies that smell faintly like optimism and Thursday-night leftovers.

Even the team Wi-Fi password was changed to something inspirational, because nothing says ‘process’ like a router with better vibes.

Within the locker room, a new accessory policy circulated: players are encouraged to carry a ‘hand grip trainer for quarterbacks’ at all times to keep the grip on reality strong.

Dart himself posted a workouts montage featuring a football, a coffee cup, and a microphone, captioned with ‘believe and you shall receive’ and a stubborn grin.

Opponents dismissed the phenomenon as playoff fever and a step above wishful thinking.

Fantasy analysts already pen piece after piece, asking whether ‘one of them ones’ becomes a real stat line or just the name of a new energy drink.

Sports bar chatter swelled to conspiratorial levels about teams charting Dart’s smile as a predictive metric.

Coaches began praising the intangible, while keeping a calculator handy in case intangibles generate a field goal.

Media glee overshadowed the actual footballs being thrown in drills, which is a moral victory for every low-stakes training session since sliced tape.

In newsroom terms, the story writes itself, and the story’s printer keeps jamming on the phrase ‘believe’.

If Dart’s confidence is contagious, the league may need a public health advisory about excessive belief.

Football watchers will be scrolling the next update to see if the ‘one of them ones’ prophecy extends to a draft slot or merely to whether the locker room can locate all the warm towels.

In the end, the real test remains on the field, but for now the vibe is loud, goofy, and very definitely not under center.