Took a heart breaking loss this week in the RSJ fantasy league and after days of befuddlement, I had an epiphany: I hate football. I hate real football, I hate fantasy football, I hate the Giants, I hate Adam Schefter, I hate Madden –- the game and the person — I hate college football, I hate Chris Berman, and I really hate Todd McShay. At this point in my life, I hate anything that remotely has anything to do with football.
I’ve been a sports nut my entire life, played, watched, followed, lived, breathed sports. And now that I’m aging and my body is betraying me, all I have left is fantasy sports -– fantasy baseball, fantasy basketball, fantasy hockey (I did it once), and of course, fantasy football.
Football is unique. It’s one day, boom or bust. A matter of hours and the tone of your entire week is determined. Days of studying, days of preparation, days of blowing off real work to find the one key advantage that’s going to put me over the top on Sunday, and then comes Sunday…and it all goes out the fucking window. A quarter of the way through the fantasy season, I have the most ‘points for’ in our league, and I’m fucking 2-2. And this isn’t your standard office league, I’m not playing against Mrs. Smith from HR who picked Gronk first overall because he’s her man crush Monday, this is a league of guys who run a fucking fantasy site and I’ve outscored all of them…and I’m .500.
Lost by 8 points this week, went with Drew Brees over Matt Ryan –- fuck my face. Even with Matty Ice on my bench, I only needed 23 points combined from Odell Beckham Jr. and Stefon Diggs on Monday night –- weeks 1 through 3, they averaged 35 combined points –– they scored 14.9 –- keep fucking my face. John Kuhn had 12 total yards, but stole three touchdowns from Mark Ingram -– continue to keep fucking my face.
Generally, my nights are spent compiling numbers, reviewing match-ups for the up-coming Sunday, scouring the waiver wire, you know, standard Tuesday through Saturday kind of stuff. But not last night. Last night was dedicated to convincing myself that this is only a fantasy football league, it’s only Week 4, and I should, in fact, not kill myself. While internally debating the least painful way to die, I happened to flip on “10 Things I Hate About You” – which I thought was ironic because Heath Ledger did actually kill himself. #RIPHeath.
Quickly, a couple things to point out…
- If you don’t like “10 Things I Hate About You”, fuck off.
- Heath Ledger was the man and even though I made a joke, his death was tragic and if you don’t think he’s a top 10 actor, fuck off.
But anyway, instead of killing myself, I was inspired to write this:
10 Things I Hate About Fantasy Football
I HATE that I didn’t pick Julio over OBJ
I HATE that Matt Ryan was on my bench when he threw for a 500 yards
I HATE when players are listed as questionable and then don’t play
I HATE when I reach and draft a guy too soon
I HATE when my running backs touchdowns get poached (looking at you John Kuhn)
I HATE when I overanalyze a trade and it doesn’t work out
I HATE when I make the wrong decision on who to start
I HATE waking up on Tuesdays with a broken heart
I HATE when my studs randomly don’t get the ball
Mostly, I HATE the way I don’t hate you
Not even close
Not even a little bit…
Not even at all!
Good luck Sunday, boys and girls. And remember when you feel like killing yourself on Tuesday… Don’t. Eventually that feeling will pass, until the following Tuesday.