I am done.
I can’t do it anymore.
I blogged about 6 weeks ago about how playing Fantasy Football will be the end of me.
In fact, they already have a sign for my memorial service when I die.
Read the bottom, that is why.
‘Killed By Fantasy Football.’
You see, I had the best team in my FFL.
Finished the season ranked first and was the top seed heading into the playoffs.
It is not a guarantee you’ll win if you are ranked first, but, it gives you a first round bye and you have to win just one game, and you are in the finals.
At 3pm, I trailed by 12 points
At 4pm, I was leading by 5
At 4:30 pm, I was down by 1.
At 5 pm, I was up by 9.
At 530 pm, I was down by 10.
At 6 pm, I was down by 2.
Drew Brees is my quarterback. He had 393 yards passing. He gets 400 yards, I get three more points.
Brees, playing against the Rams, time running down, missed a receiver for about a 15 yard gain.
He catches, I win. He doesn’t, I lose.
He didn’t catch it.
I wanted to burn down the world.
In a span of one afternoon, I went from a nervous wreck, to being on top of the world, to not sure where I was mentally and physically, to not being able to breathe, to almost dialing 911 for a heart attack, to calling friends to gloat, to not being able to breathe again, to a heart attack, to almost throwing my TV through the wall and finally, the ole, ‘DEAR GOD, WHY ME? WHY ME?”
So I am done with Fantasy Football.
I don’t need the stress.
I don’t need the pressure.
And damn, I sure as hell don’t need the drama.
I cannot remember the last time I was this mad. Like, steaming, pissed off, burn the world down mad.
Plus, if I keep playing, I would probably die and then we would never have this my friends….
Hope to see you all there!
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