Thursday, August 28, 2008
The Self Indulgence of Doc: An Ode(No)
During college, I was BIG into fantasy football. I ranked. I prepped. I cared. Or maybe I thought I cared because I was drunk all the time, and you tend to think you care more about stuff after two dozen frosty beers.
But I digress. I really enjoyed fantasy football. The draft itself used to give me goosebumps, similar to the ones a little brat gets when he's unable to put his chubby head down to sleep because he knows some fat asshole is downstairs giving him undeserved presents. For the most part, through a thick cataract of alcohol, I thought I was the General Managing Partner of my own pretend fantasy franchise, and my draft and performance was bound to be scrutinized by some reporter who I would then have to shake down behind the scenes in order to return order to my tumultuous career and personal life.
Again, I drank a lot.
So, when the regular season started (usually after a riveting preseason!), and my team ultimately began to fail, it took a while for me to get over it. The preparation, the beautiful notes, the missed classes to attend drafts, was all all for nothing. But then I'd get over it and remember that it was just a drawn-out albeit convenient form of betting anyway.
Now? Meh. I don't know if I care as much. Is it that I'm older and more mature? No. Not even close. I think it deals more with the fact that the NFL is changing. Not a "letting colored players into the league" type of change, but the dynamic of the game is certainly different than it was 8 years ago.
What I'm getting at here for all of you who have not navigated away from the page is, I had my first draft a few nights ago, and it was absolutely putrid. I felt fucking violated. Every player I picked, I envisioned with a shattered kneecap as soon as my cookie-crumb-covered finger clicked the mouse button on "select".
The personal choice I settled on are abysmal. My #1 pick (nine overall in the draft- how much does that suck cock?) ran and acted as interested in football less than Drew Berrymore cares about looking like a (unattractive) man. So, why did I take him? I have no clue. Panic? Pump-fake? Not giving a fuck? Choose one. And my backups are unproven schleps to boot. Want some more info? No, because you would rather read about your Great Uncle's lethargic bowel movements than read about my draft results?
Well it's (partly) my fucking website, so read on, or wait another four days for some stats from The AK.
Round 1 - RB Larry Johnson, KC
Do I hate him? Yes. Do I respect him? No. But does Herman Edwards know how to run a RB into the ground? Fuck. Yes.
*Note: See Curtis Martin's knees for reference
Round 2 - WR Larry Fitzgerald, ARI
A receiver this early is hard to swallow. But considering one of the teams in my league boasts the following historic WR trio: Marques Colston, Reggie Brown and Tedd Ginn Jr - I feel like the luckiest man on the fucking face of this earth.
Round 3 - WR Brandon Marshall, DEN
Again, I can't stress enough how quickly WR's were going. At this point, I was craving nicotine so bad I would have jabbed a tar-laden needle into my heart just for some stress relief.
Round 4 - QB Carson Palmer, CIN
Do you see the trend? Bad year, good year, good year, bad year...I don't know what the fuck was going through my head. Please also remember that as I was drafting on a scorching hot laptop, Michael Kay was reassuring me that the Yankees were being thoroughly butt-fucked by the sufficiently unimpressed Red Sox.
Round 5 - RB Earnest Graham, CIN
Hey, ever leave the computer during a draft to piss/drink/eat/cry and come back only to realize your pick has passed and the fucking computer has selected for you? I have. Case in point, Earnest Graham, my #2 RB. Shoot me.
Round 6 - WR Jerricho Cotchery, NYJ
Doc a Homer? Abso-fucking-lutely. Do I care? Nope. And do take your criticism elsewhere, you're fucking up the gang green mojo.
Round 7 - TE Heath Miller, PIT
I caught him right before I was stuck with perennial questionable/doubtful list occupant L.J. Smith as my starting Tight End, so this, like most others, was a need pick. And now back to you for more asinine commentary, Jaws!
I'll save you all from the abomination that is the rest of my draft and list them without spacing or recognition because they are all equally worthless:
Typing that made me a little ill. I think I'll go delete my Yahoo account, steal all the money (Moving on up as Commish) and go blow it all on some tasty Light Beer and reflections from a time when eating Macaroni and Cheese 4 nights a week was acceptable and fantasy football - the two stud RB = success kind - was still relevant.