Filling the Void: The True Meaning of Fantasy
If you’re reading this, by now you have probably heard the jarring news sweeping across the league like a severe outbreak of syphilis at a swingers club. It’s funny how life works sometimes, you know? As just a friendly group of dudes who grace the hallowed virtual gridiron each fall playing a simple game of chance, we have always remained fervently steadfast in our deep trust that we are never beholden by the cruel whims of the Fantasy Gods, but rather we choose to see the beauty in their brief glimpses of clemency and rejoice while bathing in their golden showers of mercy when they so allow. That my friends is what defines who we truly are, and what makes our league so unique. While some proceeded to swallow the long hard shaft of pessimism and turn away from these core values, they themselves established no less, most of us were unwavering in singing the holy lyrics of T Sizzle to the heavens, praising the glorious Fantasy Creators. Day after day, night after night, we prayed for them to bring back the game we love. In reality, no matter how intensely we thrusted our rock hard prayers into the ether, the odds were the 2020 Fantasy season was not going to happen. On top of that, we faced existential threats to our health, financial well-being, and for many, their basic human rights. Then, just as things seemed bleakest, our resolute and unshakable faith in all things Fantasy and Swifty Folklore, proved once more that Fantasy atheism shall never prevail! Our prayers were answered! Like Jesus rising from the cross, our fantasy sins were forgiven when T Swift dropped her new album, signifying a miraculous conclusion of the NFLPA and the NFL dotting the final i’s and crossing the last t’s on an agreement confirming that football would indeed commence amid this new COVID filled world in 2020. Yet, before we even could make it down the street to rejoice, a bombshell of horrid news blew right through a 4-way stop going 75, and blindsided our party bus with the fact that this season wouldn’t come without a casualty in our league. It comes with a heavy heart that I can confirm, as reported by our league commissioner, Mr. Tyler has officially “opted out” of the 2020 season. As I attempted to pen a reaction and help to conceptualize the gravity and repercussions that this news will have for our league, much like you all, I sat in utter disbelief, while sad Taylor Swift songs played endlessly on repeat in the background, staring blankly at the ceiling of my room. In a time meant for excitement and draft preparation, the worst fears of a league had now been realized as Tyler so unjustly and selfishly tore apart the very fabric of a league built upon the blood, sweat, and tears of great and noble men. How do I sympathize with a coward? What could I say to my fellow league mates to help them cope with the fact we employed such a traitorous member among our ranks? I am but just a man and I do not have the magic wisdom and advice that could make our league whole again. But as more time passed, the more I realized the words I type down on this page are no longer a reflection of my thoughts solely, but rather a manifestation of the sanctity of Fantasy Football and a vessel for which the Fantasy Gods can reach the broken. So I must rise up with the strength and vigor of a geezer’s boner on Viagra, and fulfill my duty of restoring balance to our league, by shedding my disdain for Tyler’s weak minded and bitch like decision, and convince him that playing Fantasy is the right decision. Here goes nothing...
Why do we play Fantasy really? For most they see it as a way simpletons can feel like GMs and play along fulfilling a stupid dream that they too can be successful in managing a team of football players. Well to some that’s it and that’s all it ever will be. Is it random in its results? Sure. Is it frustrating that people who draft terribly and don’t know what they are doing will make the playoffs once in a while? Of course. Listen, you can make ever smart and saavy move in the book and that’s never going to truly guarantee you anything. It’s literally a game of chance that more often than not produces wild results that make less sense than Kevin as a back up dancer for T Swift (still rooting for ya big guy!). But if that’s why you want to play, as mercenary type who only cares about results, well there’s the fucking door, because we don’t want you anyway. If you can’t grasp that the true meaning of Fantasy Football is about the battle and the journey with your friends, entering into the never ending mind field of shit talking to try and navigate your way to the ultimate prize of being called a fantasy champion, no matter the odds, then I can’t help you. I have said it before, and I’ll say it again: We are on the precipice of one of the greatest yearly endeavors known to man, one that transcends just a simple monetary gain. Fantasy Football is about the journey, about the shit talking, about the camaraderie. It’s about knowing no matter how truly fucked up reality might be, that you are still going to take up arms in fantasy with the annual tradition of showing up your friends in victory and blaming your players in defeat. For most men without fantasy, they live their lives searching to fill a void they never can comprehend how to fill. It’s a sad but hard hitting fact that we accept. So, if you want to throw away one of the greatest gifts possibly bestowed upon the human race by the Fantasy Gods, then so be it. I believe I speak for most of the league members on this one, Mr. Tyler, we will not accept back a quitter. But, if you can put aside your brief momentary lapse in judgement and stand with us once more in solidarity, honoring the Fantasy Gods and our first fantasy playing brethren, for another fight for fantasy glory, then your past transgressions shall be forgiven. It’s up to you my friend. As you read this I hope that dwindling fire deep within your loins has been rekindled and is burning stronger than ever. Look... The T Siz CD is sitting right there on the corner of your desk. Proudly pick that bitch up, slip it in the boom box for old times sake, emphatically press play and start bumpin to our main girl again. It’s Fantasy baby! LET’S GOOOO!!!!!!!
♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫
Don't blame me, Fantasy make us crazy
If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right
Lord, save me, fantasy’s our baby
We’ll be playin’ for the rest of our life
We’ve been breakin' hearts a long time, and
Pickin’ up them waiver guys
Just to play them for you to lose
Something happened for the first time, in
Tyler’s fragile little mind
Hatin’, Quittin', we still need you
So what, we still cross the line
It’s not a waste of time
Just don’t lose your mind
They say he’s gone too far this time
Don't blame me, Fantasy make us crazy
If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right
Lord, save me, fantasy’s our baby
We’ll be playing for the rest of our life
Why do we play Fantasy really? For most they see it as a way simpletons can feel like GMs and play along fulfilling a stupid dream that they too can be successful in managing a team of football players. Well to some that’s it and that’s all it ever will be. Is it random in its results? Sure. Is it frustrating that people who draft terribly and don’t know what they are doing will make the playoffs once in a while? Of course. Listen, you can make ever smart and saavy move in the book and that’s never going to truly guarantee you anything. It’s literally a game of chance that more often than not produces wild results that make less sense than Kevin as a back up dancer for T Swift (still rooting for ya big guy!). But if that’s why you want to play, as mercenary type who only cares about results, well there’s the fucking door, because we don’t want you anyway. If you can’t grasp that the true meaning of Fantasy Football is about the battle and the journey with your friends, entering into the never ending mind field of shit talking to try and navigate your way to the ultimate prize of being called a fantasy champion, no matter the odds, then I can’t help you. I have said it before, and I’ll say it again: We are on the precipice of one of the greatest yearly endeavors known to man, one that transcends just a simple monetary gain. Fantasy Football is about the journey, about the shit talking, about the camaraderie. It’s about knowing no matter how truly fucked up reality might be, that you are still going to take up arms in fantasy with the annual tradition of showing up your friends in victory and blaming your players in defeat. For most men without fantasy, they live their lives searching to fill a void they never can comprehend how to fill. It’s a sad but hard hitting fact that we accept. So, if you want to throw away one of the greatest gifts possibly bestowed upon the human race by the Fantasy Gods, then so be it. I believe I speak for most of the league members on this one, Mr. Tyler, we will not accept back a quitter. But, if you can put aside your brief momentary lapse in judgement and stand with us once more in solidarity, honoring the Fantasy Gods and our first fantasy playing brethren, for another fight for fantasy glory, then your past transgressions shall be forgiven. It’s up to you my friend. As you read this I hope that dwindling fire deep within your loins has been rekindled and is burning stronger than ever. Look... The T Siz CD is sitting right there on the corner of your desk. Proudly pick that bitch up, slip it in the boom box for old times sake, emphatically press play and start bumpin to our main girl again. It’s Fantasy baby! LET’S GOOOO!!!!!!!
♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫
Don't blame me, Fantasy make us crazy
If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right
Lord, save me, fantasy’s our baby
We’ll be playin’ for the rest of our life
We’ve been breakin' hearts a long time, and
Pickin’ up them waiver guys
Just to play them for you to lose
Something happened for the first time, in
Tyler’s fragile little mind
Hatin’, Quittin', we still need you
So what, we still cross the line
It’s not a waste of time
Just don’t lose your mind
They say he’s gone too far this time
Don't blame me, Fantasy make us crazy
If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right
Lord, save me, fantasy’s our baby
We’ll be playing for the rest of our life
♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫
P.S. Tyler, these better be the next words out of your mouth:
