I Hate Fantasy Football
I lost in my fantasy football playoff game this week. You don’t care. No one cares. I shouldn’t even care. Fantasy football literally means nothing in the grand scheme of things, but I can’t stop myself from caring about it. I hate fantasy football.
Reason #1: It makes me hate people that don’t deserve it.
This week I hate Lawrence Tynes with the red-hot intensity of one thousand suns. He’s done absolutely nothing wrong to me. I don’t know Lawrence Tynes. He’s probably a decent human being, but I hate him. I hate everything about him. And that makes me a total asshole. He doesn’t deserve my hate. He’s most likely way, way better than I am. All he did was post a negative point in fantasy football this week. He didn’t hurt anyone. He just hurt my fantasy team. He doesn’t deserve the horrible things I’ve thought about him. I probably deserve those things. But that’s what fantasy football does to me; it turns me into a horrible monster who shouldn’t exist in a civilized society.
My hated of Lawrence Tynes is not justifiable and I am an asshole.
But seriously, damn you Tynes.
Reason #2: I use fantasy football victories to justify my own mediocrity.
“It’s fine that I wake up at noon every day and eat nothing but chicken wings. I’m a fucking champion. I won my fantasy football matchup this week. My other friends might have motivation and fulfilling lives, but I was the one who was smart enough to draft Doug Martin in the sixth round.”—Thoughts that an asshole (me) would think
Reason #3: On Sundays I become a useless drain on society.
Here is how I live my life on Sundays:
12:45 p.m.-Wake up
12:50 p.m. -Order giant box of cheese sticks to eat throughout the day.
1-11 p.m. - Watch football and eat an enormous amount of cheese sticks.
11:05 p.m. - Gloat/Whine about fantasy football results
11:10 p.m. -12:00 a.m. - Think about how I will be alone for the rest of my life.
12:05 a.m. -Cry.
12:07 a.m.- Wipe all of the cheese stick crumbs off of me
12:10 a.m- Crawl to bed.
If a woman happened to observe me on a Sunday, it would destroy her libido for life.
Reason #4: Fantasy football doesn’t even matter, but I act like it does.
I take losing in fantasy football very personally, but it doesn’t even matter. Even if I happened to win my league, which I won’t (Thanks Tynes), it won’t make any difference in my life. Yeah, I can brag about my fantasy football team winning, but what have I really accomplished? All I did was prove that my football guys can score more fantasy football points than other people’s football guys. People can brag about more important things like how they have actually made physical contact with a woman or about their jobs or about the fact that they aren’t always seemingly covered in barbeque sauce.
Reason #5: No one really gives a damn about my fantasy football team or my fantasy football rant.