Sunday, September 07, 2008

Final Fantasy Football

Son of a fuck. You know how I feel about the Pats, so it must be something pretty serious if I'm pissed about an epic fail for them.

Well, how about my fantasy football season being blown up, for starters? Wait -- you probably figured that from the title of this post. No, the post has nothing to do with the videogame, unless Square-Enix has something up their sleeves that I'm unwittingly prognosticating. I just got that phrase in my head one day and it stuck.

But yeah, I'm fucked now. My draft strategy? Draft Tom Brady. After having Steven Jackson (one of the highest rated players at draft time) last season and Ronnie Brown (was leading the league in rushing several weeks in) after Jackson got injured, I was like, fuck the stud running back theory for fantasy football. I'm gonna go with a solid quarterback for my first pick and watch as everyone else sees their star running backs either disappoint or go down in injury later on in the year. I was kinda nervous about that foot of Brady's for awhile. Aside from it potentially being a lingering issue from the end of last season, as a foot fetishist I'm not pleased at having to be overly concerned about another dude's foot. I figured it would be fine; the guy's a veteran and he's a fucking horse. He's not gonna be setting records like last year, but he'll be fine.

So what happens? Before I even fucking got out of bed today, my season was pretty much hosed. The guy's started 128 straight games, but he had to pick today to (probably) shred his ACL and miss the rest of the season. Well, I was right about one thing -- the foot wasn't a big deal after all.

But, what did I expect to happen? Well, this, actually. Even during the draft I was already pessimistic. I even got called out for being such a whiny douche, by a potential dreamgirl nonetheless. So afterward, I had a bit of an epiphany. I was like, yeah, I do complain way too fucking much. Is it any wonder no one likes me? Stop that. Of course, I've had this epiphany before in my life, and then...

And then it turns out I was fucking right. I love how people have the gall to ask why I'm so pessimistic realistic about shit. I mean c'mon. This is all just learned behavior; it's not my fault, it's Pavlov's fault. There is no danger of me becoming a "happy person" anytime soon (happy people don't say "fuck" just so you know... long story).

I know what some of you are saying. "Well, that's what you get." Karma or some shit. Whatever. Either that is A) dumb or B) if I can actually influence peoples' lives just with my shitty attitude then I am clearly in the wrong line of work.

So, fantasy football gets me waxing existential. How sad is that?

Anyway, it's not all that bad. I'm having fun with it; I already changed my team logo picture to be a shot of Brady on the turf clutching his knee. And it is fucking fantasy football after all, which for many years I referred to aficionados of as quote losers. So yes, it's highly hypocritical flexible of me to be playing fantasy football, for the second straight year no less, but who cares. It's entertaining when you're in it with friends and co-workers; it's one more thing to BS about and talk shit about. And as long as I'm not one of those guys who spends all of Saturday setting my lineup (definite losers) then it's not all bad. But what am I gonna do if I can't impress Dreamgirl (hereafter referred to as Unlimited Candy Shopping Spree for reasons known only to me) with my fantasy football skills? Good thing I have so many others to fall back on.

"Once again Negative Z is kicking the hell out of Positive Z as the arguments rage."
- Line from Dr. Z, SI columnist and one of the most entertaining out there, in one of his NFL Power Rankings columns from last season

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