Seems like I should have seen this by now, but either way, I found it to be pretty amusing.

Here we go -- that's the dumbass I was talking about.

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

So I got a bit nostalgic tonight and went out hunting pictures of Mile High Stadium. The real Mile High; the only Mile High. I ended up coming across this thread, which has a ton of pictures chronicling the stadium's demise once Invesco Field was up and running. Interesting, yet very depressing too.

I've only been to Invesco once, and it's definitely not the same. Yeah, yeah, get off my lawn, nothing's ever gonna be good again, blah blah blah. Of course, it didn't help matters that my only trip to Invesco was for a preseason game against the Colts, but even still, you could tell the vibe there just wasn't the same.

I remember after Invesco first opened I insisted on calling it Mile High for awhile, but it wasn't long before I was catching myself between the "Mile" and the "High" before correcting myself to say "Invesco." I didn't want Mile High to be gone, but I finally accepted that it was.

My grandpa had Broncos season tickets for a couple years when I was in middle school. This was back during the two Wade Phillips years and we went 8-8 both years (winning all home games).

Okay, apparently my memory is apparently all fucked up 'cause Phillips was coach in '93 and '94 and I was in high school then. To combat this problem I just went and did something I rarely do: research. I went into my archives (the basement) and managed to dig up a ticket stub from 1991 and a bunch of game programs, so that was the first year. 1992 had to be the second year because I know that I was at this game, described here as such:

October 4, 1992
-- Elway throws 2 TD passes in the last 1:55, the last a 12-yarder to Vance Johnson, to come back from a 19-6 deficit and beat the Chiefs 20-19.

I still remember when Elway lofted that final TD pass -- as it went up the whole stadium simultaneously rose to its feet and then went completely nuts after they scored. Along with seeing the Rockies clinch the pennant last year it was the awesomest sports events I ever got to witness live.

Even if my years and coaches and records are kinda fuzzy there is definitely some other shit that I remember. I remember exactly where our seats were those two seasons:


According to the ticket stub I found that was section 333, row 5. It was right along the division between the east stands (the entire section which could be moved back to expand the stadium to accommodate a baseball field) and the rest of the horseshoe.

I remember a game where this obnoxious fat lady kept pounding on the wall along the division. By the end of the game I was so stoked with how well the game was going I had gone full retard and was doing the same.

I remember after one game as we were all filing out of the stadium a guy was holding up one of the best, and simplest, signs I ever saw someone holding at a game: "FUCK KC."

I can even remember my first game, which was ironically (by which of course I mean coincidentally) a preseason game against Indy. It was raining like crazy in Denver that day. It was cold, it was wet, and it was a mere preseason game, but it was my first pro football game, and it was awesome. It was always awesome on those Sundays. Going to those games with my grandpa were some of the best times I ever had.