Bad news. I lost the fantasy football championship.
I spent hours upon hours over the past few months rabidly consulting fantasy football message boards, sending unsolicited emails to disinterested parties about my “controversial managerial decisions that will surely lead to MY ULTIMATE VICTORY,” analyzing player trends, and spending too much money on French fries and beer at grotty sports bars. I turned into a person I hardly recognized; a person who says things like, “For a while the situation was bleak; my players insisted on concussing themselves; my Carolina defense sucked bigtime; don’t even get me started on my tight end’s perpetuated downward spiral into inefficacy.” It was the most fun (and self-induced anxiety) that I’ve ever had.
But in the end, despite my relentless enthusiasm and research, I failed as a manager, losing the championship game by a margin of 30 points. Friends have attempted to console me by telling me that I did exceptionally well for someone who a) knew nothing about football before this experience and b) is highly distractable. Nevertheless, I remain steeped in misery, and turned to songwriting to help express to y’all just how profoundly saddened I am.