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Draft day finally comes, and I have done zero preparation. If I’m feeling spry, I’ll pull up a few mock draft projections from ESPN, CBS Sports, and Yahoo 15-minutes before the first pick is taken. I stumble through the draft, executing desperate Google searches of different player names as precious seconds tick off the clock, pathetically filling my roster with has-beens and wannabes. When it’s all over, I somehow convince myself that I love my team, and that this is my year.
Then the season starts, and all hell breaks loose.
Every single year, without fail, my first round draft pick goes down with a season ending injury. Then I go on a losing streak of five or six games, fall to last place in the standings, and attempt to drown the pain with dozens of ice cold Miller Lites. I ask myself, “Where did it all go wrong?” Everywhere. Everywhere is where it all went wrong.
Slowly but surely, I realize that every single player I drafted is a fucking loser. I panic and start firing out desperate trade proposals left and right. Eventually someone accepts one of these idiotic proposals, and I immediately realize that I’ve somehow managed to make my team even worse. The entire league chimes in on the message board to ensure that I know I’m the stupidest fucking person to ever lead a team into battle on the e-gridiron. I’m accused of collusion, and words like “fantasy integrity” are thrown around. I receive insulting texts, emails and voicemails that take shots not only at my manhood, but at my girlfriend and mother. As the pile of personal attacks grows higher, my sanity starts to slip. I begin to suspect that the entire league is in cahoots to destroy my team.
Then I win a game, maybe even two, and a false sense of hope begins to build within my fragile mind. “Maybe I can sneak into the playoffs,” I think to myself. “I still have a chance if I win out.” These are the thoughts of a desperate fool at the end of his pitiful rope. I lose my next few games, at least one of which is an absolutely embarrassing blowout where my opponent’s team accumulates more than triple the amount of points that mine does, and then the commissioner releases his mid-season power rankings. As expected, I occupy last place.
Week by week, the shit talking between members has grown more and more intense, but with the release of the mid-season power rankings, everything is taken to a disturbing new level. The stability of the league as a whole begins to wane. Guys can’t even go to the bar together on Sunday because they’d end up breaking bottles over tables and attempting to slit each other’s throats. Everyone turns on the commissioner and accuses him of a being an over controlling, power-hungry dictator with a soul of pure evil rivaled only by Hitler. Every single trade is vetoed by a league vote, even the ones that are undeniably fair, because everyone hates each other so much. Then the death threats start. This is the only thing that brings me some semblance of joy, as my season has long been in the toilet by the time the league crumbles and succumbs to chaos.
But none of this changes the fact that my team is absolute garbage, I’m out of playoff contention, it’s not even fun to talk shit anymore, and I actually like myself less each time I have to set my lineup. That’s when I stop giving a shit about my fantasy football team.
To put into perspective how terrible my team is, I recently lost to my friend who hasn’t set her own lineup since day 1.
When I mentioned how soul-crushing this loss to her team was, she said “Oh, we’re supposed to set that ourselves? I thought it was all automatic.”
I have Peyton Manning and my team is still in last place….yeah it’s that bad.
This pleases me.
Do you know what would help me cope with my shitty fantasy team? Some Manic Monday Mailbag…. Where the hell is it? It’s been two weeks. Stop holding out on us Bolen! Monday office laughter at inappropriate times has reached an all time low. Now that your fantasy hopes have been dashed get your head in the real game and write that shit!
Dammit THIS
ALRIGHT next Monday I promise. Shit.
Injuries? I have (or had) Aaron Rodgers, Randall Cobb, Run DMC, Jeremy Kerley, and Sydney Rice. Going first to worst in my league.
I’m right there with you. Fucking Aaron Rodgers.
Now in my 12 man league it looks like my best option is… Ryan Tannehill? Or Mike Glennon? Hope you’ve got better options.
I picked up Foles, so don’t do that. He won’t do anything the rest of the season.
God be with you.
Ray Rice, Trent Richardson, and Danny Amendola really had my hopes high for this year.
I participated in my draft over the phone while driving, conference call style. The results were not pretty.
“You can’t pick him. He’s been gone since round 3.” “Well, fuck. Just give me best available RB.”
This years list that destroyed my team: “Arian Foster, Danny Amendola, and Tom Brady. First year Tom has let me down.
Chris Johnson’s mediocrity, Montee Ball’s inability to get in the rotation, Aaron Rodgers’ injury
Arian Fostser is a little girl, Julio Jones injury, Reggie Wayne Injury.. 3 of my top 4 picks are injured or on IR. Only one to make it out of that group is Reggie Bush
That article just got me over my “The League” withdrawal as I can’t get Hulu over my current wifi on this army deployment. I know. First world problems.
I got tired of the high expectations that always come crashing down, so I decided to draft a joke team of all white players. I’m currently tied for first place with a 7-2 record.
Who are your RB’s?
I presume Woodhead is one.
Who would of thought..
I’ve been in the same league for 10 years now, and my first draft pick has gone down with an injury every single year. Friends from college and old jobs call me every year before their drafts to see who I picked first, so they’ll know not to take him. It was Aaron Rodgers this year.