For the first time in his NFL career, J.J. Watt is on that free-agent grind. He’s fielding offers, he’s trolling fanbases, and most of all he’s hitting the gym, eager to show prospective suitors that he’s just as hungry (and possibly deranged) as ever. For the most part that’s been going pretty good—Watt knows his way around a dumbbell—but on Friday he posted a few reps of a rare medieval torture ritual that didn’t go so well and quickly found a familiar nuisance in his mentions:
One Justin Thomas.
We gotta say, it takes enormous huevos to harass a guy casually lifting things like that for the ‘gram, and that’s before you even consider the fact that that guy is J.J. Freaking Watt. We don’t know about you, but we’re giving a century-mark sacker who not only plays through injuries like this, but enjoys them, a wide berth in all forums, virtual or otherwise.
Not Thomas, though, who is all too happy to play the Roadrunner to Watt’s Wil E., knowing full well that the smaller the target, the harder for the Acme anvil to hit it. We wouldn’t necessarily advise that from a life-and-livelihood standpoint, but man if it isn’t damn good entertainment.
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