As a Blogger, Security Guard, and Restaurant Server, I’m somewhat of a triple threat. Last week, I was serving a couple at the restaurant. They were very pleasant from the moment they sat at my table; full of glee and clearly enjoying each other’s company. Then, I heard a familiar chime from the boyfriend’s phone. It is the kind of chime that will put an end to any conversation or social interaction. It was the notification that his fantasy football draft was set to begin.
Now, outside of the fact he picked the absolute worse time to participate in a draft, he completely tuned out his rather sexy girlfriend for an entire hour. It was quite uncomfortable to resist her occasional glances at me and her menacing stare toward her lover. She ate her entire meal, and being in close vicinity to the table, I heard them speak only once the whole time. After he paid and they left, I really made up my mind about fantasy football. My draft was rescheduled and I had until that same evening to set up a draft board, coerce my boss to let me off early, dodge my family for a few hours, and plan to win the tournament against my friends.
Then it dawned on me, I suck at fantasy football.
Maybe it’s all in the name of your team. I am forewarning you to hold your laughter. I am the guy that thought it was cool to name his two teams “Passionate Puppies” and “KillaTomatoes”. The record of those two teams last year was 5-9 and 3-11 respectively. Everyone else had cool team names like “IllKillYou” and “ManningisLord”. How can a man compete with awesome team names like that?
Looking back, we can see why my teams sucked last year. When playing fantasy football you must take emotion and allegiances out of the equation. I learned this rule the hard way. Remember two years ago when Calvin Johnson was near the top of his game? I picked him first despite having several options at quarterback and running back with the second overall pick. I may go to jail again but I want to personally deliver a heartfelt letter to Johnson for his 5 touchdown season. Maybe last year was my breaking point. I didn’t play into my fandom but I picked Cam Newton when Peyton Manning was still on the board. My reward for such stupid decision making you may ask? Facing the guy that picked Manning and being embarrassed by his 7 touchdown passes. My season was over the first f#cking game.
By week 5 of my season, the vultures or friends as defined by Merrian-Webster dictionary, swarmed above my head picking me apart for every player (which wasn’t that many) that could be of use to them. I would get messages at work telling me how bad my team sucked and that they would continue to suck. However, there were players that they deemed good enough to take from me. From there I’d look at the waiver wire or stay up late watching the NFL Network looking for the next Jonas Gray or Allen Hurns.
I did learn some valuable lessons from the previous two seasons playing fantasy football. I’ll ask my 8 year old daughter for a clever team name next season. Despite the many requests to join leagues (so I can be the free agent pool liaison) I’ll only join one. I’ll devote all my free time to scouting players, looking at game tape, and for damn sure resist the temptation to draft two kickers.
This season I will do what I love to do most, just watch the damn games.
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