Ten reasons why I am happy I did not make the playoffs
- I am finally free of the overwhelming burden of getting up Sunday morning and dedicating at least 7 minutes to updating my roster. I have a busy schedule, and the massive time requirement that is updating your lineup can get in the way.
- At the IIS holiday party, the conversation will be able to move past fantasy football and focus on bitching about our boss.
- I do not feel obligated to refresh the Yahoo app on my phone every 3 minutes all day long on Sunday. More time on Pinterest.
- The holidays are crazy enough without the added stress of seeing Aaron Rodgers out performed every week by RG3.
- I can finally catch up on Grey's Anatomy and Gossip Girl.
- Unlike all you Eagles fans, I still have real football to fall back on...
- It's important to make everyone feel like they have a chance at winning every year. Domination breeds disinterest. That's why everyone hates the Cowboys. They were too good for too long back when it was the Aikman/Smith/Irvin show. That, and they are just terrible human beings.
- I do not have to deal with the Fantasy vs. Real Football debate - Do I want Mike Wallace to do well? NOT ANYMORE. I hope Ben Roethlisberger's arm falls off and Mike Wallace has an embarrassing, tear-filled public breakdown about how he just cannot play on the same team as Charlie Batch.
- The intense pain of losing goes up exponentially in the playoffs.
- I am happy to give up my spot in the playoffs if John Shust manages to make it in and wins because then I will be given the wonderful opportunity to make up some sort of "Giant" related reference to a terrible team squeaking by and then winning everything, and also Shust being a Giant.
Guess which one is Shust? Answer at the bottom of the page.
Indianapolis Colts Cheerleader Sinead McDonnell
If you ask her, Sinead McDonnell will tell you she was born in Ireland. This is not true. In fact she was born in Williston, North Dakota, and her name was Martha Henderson. Like all things from North Dakota (sentient or not), Martha was boring. Her parents were boring, her school was boring and he life sucked. The only retreat, the only salvation in her boring, North Dakota life was the Sinead O'Connor CD she ordered as one of her free 10 CDs for signing up for BMG Music. (The ensuing membership bills drove her family to financial ruin, as they only had enough money to survive in ND). Needing to get away, Martha drew inspiration from her idol Sinead, she left ND, changed her name to Sinead McDonnell (didn't want to totally copy), and moved to beautiful Indiana. The rest as they say, is history.
During the interview for this article, Sinead was shown a picture of present day Sinead to which she replied "Fuck me. This is not going to work anymore." Thankfully a follow up picture of Natalie Portman post "V for Vendetta" brought her back from the ledge.
Natalie and a Storm Trooper
*Disclaimer - This cheerleader did a great thing shaving her head in honor of Chuck Pagano, who is recovering my some pretty intense treatment for cancer. I am not making fun of her, Chuck, cancer, or anything else people are sensitive to. Mostly I am making fun of North Dakota and Sinead O'Connor. No North Dakotans were harmed in the writing of this blog, as there are no North Dakotans who have internet.
The Iron Curse
As the season comes to a close for six of us, I really want to take a little time and reflect on what the hell happened to Dammit Jim I'm a Dr. This team had a very high preseason rating according to the totally impartial league commissioner. The pieces of the puzzle were all there, and weeks 1-4 had things looking excellent for me and my squad. I was 3-1, my only loss coming to the incumbent champion by a mere 4 points. Then something happened. Some will tell you I overstepped my bounds by commenting on my own team in a positive manner during the draft grade recap. Others will say it was a lack of humility in general. But let's be honest, my team was pretty solid.
No, the collapse of my team coincided directly with the arrival of the Iron Lady from across the pond. The package arrived the week of my humiliating loss to Buffalo Renaissance. When that package arrived on my doorstep, my team fell apart. Despite some seemingly favorable trades, I still could not turn things around. I mean, Rodgers was putting up 30+ points every week until I got him. Now he sucks. McFadden is hurt, and NO ONE saw that coming.
The Curse of the Iron Lady has befallen me. Had I smartly gotten the plaques installed and mailed her right away to her current rightful owner, Josh, I would have turned things around. But I procrastinated and delayed, and I am paying the price dearly. Here we are, 3 weeks from completion of the season, and I am ashamed to say that I still have her sitting here right behind me. She is laughing at me, just like Thatcher used to laugh...
This serves as my public admittance of guilt and apology to Josh, the league, all of Fantasy Football, and the Cosmos. I should have mailed the trophy out and did not cause I am as lazy as CunningLinguists before game time and I couldn't be bothered. I have paid a dear, dear price, as this is the only way to explain how I ended up where I am today.
We have two teams who have clinched, Suggs and Swanson. The interesting fight is between Brady, Buffalo, and the Brotherhood for the last two spots. I am doing my part, starting my best lineup against Buffalo despite the fact that I would do better to throw the game and try to improve my draft pick (that is illegal by the way). That means that yes, I think Cleveland's defense will do well today. Moving on....
Brady has a trap game against Vinegar Strokes and Arian drew the tough matchup against Suggs. If I had to make a prediction, I think it will be Arian and Brady because Brady has way more points than Buffalo, my apology will right the ship and allow me to win, Arian will win over Suggs because only he has the power to make other teams do shitty (1500 pts against?), and Vinegar just has the worst luck.
Good luck everyone but Josh!
Answer: The one in the white dress. You fruitcake.