7am: Fresh, Hopeful, and Focused

One week of prep and thirteen weeks of dilligent management led to a complete lack of performance on my fantasy football team’s part yesterday. After the games I sat down with the teams looking for an explanation but my frustration was met with blank stares and quiet coughing.

“Live Action” which struggled all year with consistency had gone on a hot streak, lending me false hope for an underdog run to the championship, but despite our team captain, McNabb showing up, guns a-blazing with 24 points, and my D (the Eagles, ugh) scoring a whopping 18 with two defensive scores, the rest of the team (9 dudes) mustered 18 points… that’s right, 18 points! Pathetic. I raised hell for about 25 minutes, making references to their mothers, sisters, and family dogs, but that didn’t take away the “L” and it certainly didn’t make me feel any better. Steven Jackson did muster a weak apology, but it fell on deaf ears as I shut my laptop.

“Men of Steel”, my high flying team of superstars also fell short, though their combined efforts produced 25 more points than Live Actionless. Chris Johnson continued his prolific production with 3 TDs and over 150 yards of offense, but my #1 pick, Hollywood Brady managed only a meager 11 points. Tom cited the birth of his son, but being a new father myself, and knowing I could have done better myself, I told him that good looks, a stunning wife, and millions of dollars also meant he had a responsibility to his teams, as well as to his general manager, me, and as such I expected more production out of him. Alas, he shook off my criticism, and climbed into his fancy car, leaving me to answer to ownership (the wife) for our sudden departure from the playoffs and no chance of winning our entry fee back.

I met with ownership this morning and told her, “there’s always next year” but was told that witty cliches don’t buy diapers and that I will now need to take a second job in the offseason.

Thanks fellas… maybe next year.

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