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This past weekend I received this text from my oldest friend:
Dude, NoMo hotel in SoHo. We’ve got the penthouse. Bring anyone you want after 10:30
Now, this text is unusual for a myriad of reasons. Chief among them being that he lives in San Francisco and the last time I saw him was by random chance last fall in Oslo, Norway, of all places. It was also a bit off since, well, boutique hotel penthouse on a random Friday night? Something was off so I went to his Instagram story and got to the bottom of it:
It was his squad’s fantasy draft, and they’d rented out a chic NYC hotel penthouse for it.
And I was jealous. Not because of the venue – I mean hotel penthouse is cool but, come on I have a rooftop pool in my apartment – but rather because they were doing a destination fantasy draft.
You’ve seen this all over your social media millions of times. Hundreds even. A group of fantasy footballers, usually male but that’s not a prerequisite, do some sort of Bachelor Party (Stag Party if you’re reading across the pond) style getaway with the sole purpose of conducting a fantasy football draft.
I mean, when did this become a thing? Was it the rise of popular sitcom The League doing absurd things for draft order? Was it their Vegas Draft? Did a bunch of middle aged dudes get restless with their boring ass lives and decide that since they hadn’t had a proper dude’s weekend since the Clinton administration, they’d do a long weekend away filled with booze drugs and strippers under the guise of “fantasy football draft” and then tell allll their fantasy footballer friends about it and all of a sudden fantasy football draft parties have become a multi-trillion dollar industry? I mean for fuck’s sake, I can’t even listen to the good ol’ fashioned AM/FM radio without Hooters advertising more than A Million Little Things to have a fantasy draft at a Hooters.
These drafts are getting out of control and I need it to stop mostly because I’m a jealous prick. Last summer two dudes from my fantasy league went on a road trip from Boston to Nashville for someone else’s draft; they didn’t even draft they just drove to Nashville with them and played N64 in a rented minivan for seventeen hours. You know where I drafted my team last year? No? Me neither because it was honestly so unmemorable. You know where I’m drafting this year? Nowhere, because my league folded and I’m convinced it’s hundo p because we don’t do destination drafts.
Now, I get that if you’re spread all over the country it’s a good excuse to get together and hang for a late summer weekend. My friends live within a two-mile radius of me so there’s probably a thought that there’s no need to have an excuse to all hang out for a weekend. But I disagree with all of that.
I need a weekend getaway with my buddies, no matter how close to me they live. I want to drain my funds at some extravagant resort in Costa Rica and trade first round picks for no reason other than hilarity and good times. Alas, it was never really isn’t meant to be.
We grew up. We started watching more futbol than football. Started getting way more interested in gambling our life savings each week than setting a fantasy football lineup (maybe that’s just me). Football is losing it’s luster for a lot of us, and with that, fantasy football. I’m even planning on auto-drafting the PGP league (I’ll be at Pearl Jam and besides, I have just as good a chance to win with an auto-drafted team). But yet, I’m still jealous as all hell about your destination fantasy football draft. Hell, I’d be interested in a destination draft and then deleting the league as soon as we get back home. I just want the destination draft!!
I may just have to plan a boy’s trip soon. Maybe in the spring. Fantasy Baseball draft in Iceland, perhaps. Whoever stays in the ice bath the longest gets the first overall pick. .
Image via Shutterstock