Balls

Week 6 Newsletter

Barrister’s Balls

Dateline – McCandless, PA, 10/12/14 - After spending the first two hours of my Sunday morning in what I can only describe as one of the circles of Hell (Picture People, Ross Park Mall), it was just about time to partake in my Sunday ritual, i.e., planting myself in front of my television for [almost] as long as it takes to develop blood clots in my legs.  But alas, the NFL RedZone this past Sunday was as useless as Cropcho’s pecker in high school.  You see, instead of ascending to the familiar heavenly environs of my Fantasy Football Nirvana, Laura had instead arranged a play-date even farther north of McCandless (Ontario?), in some place that I can only describe as one of the deeper circles of Hell:  Cranberry…  at a house with antenna cable...  and get this, standard definition picture.  For reals.  I’m as shocked as you are that human beings actually voluntarily subject themselves to standard definition.  Utterly unacceptable. 

Anyway, yes, Marlo and Estella allegedly had a wonderful time with the two young peers they were there to see, and Laura tells me she was even mildly entertained by the woman she was paired with for the afternoon.  I can’t imagine that said woman’s husband was psyched to try and make small-talk with a guy buried in his phone crushing the refresh button.  He, at one point, told me he’s a fantasy football “fanatic” as well – a claim that I quickly dismissed and even admonished him for uttering based on the vague forms of grown men moving around on his television screen. 

No self-respecting fantasy footballer would have put me through what I experienced from 1:00 pm to 4:00 pm this past weekend.  It’s a place I’ll never return to, and wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy (Eric).  Therefore, for the rest of the season I cordially invite all of you (even Eric) to drop by and pull up a couch cushion in fantasy football Utopia, with literally nothing but football, slow-cooked meals, fancy-cut hot dogs, and certainly no shortage of vitriol.

Without further ado, here are this week’s acknowledgements:

Stud of the Week: Travis. Some of you are probably thinking, “Who? You mean Travis, that kid who is constantly reminding us all what a joy he is to have in our league on account of his constant participation and meaningful contributions?  You sure you don’t mean Pavlik?”  No, no, I mean the Travis that kid whom you all forgot was even in this league until 7 seconds ago (15 seconds for our “English as a Second Language Contingent”). Dunn Givashit, who seemingly embodies his very own moniker, yawned his way to 181+ points this week, fueled by not only the white hot waiver added Eagles D, but also this week’s Jimmy Graham Jock Slap of the Week, Thank You Hilton, which I can only assume is what TY stands for.  The heir-apparent to the massive hotel fortune had many catches for many yards and a TD to account for over 20% of DG’s points, much to the chagrin of the Raging Polacks who were soundly defeated as a consequence of Tomahawk Yoyo bandying his peen all over Thursday Night Football (Author’s Note:  I’m sick of being force fed football on Thursday, and I will continue my protest by watching each and every Thursday night game).  It feels a bit odd presenting an accomplishment to Travis wherein my wife gets crotch-slapped by someone other than me, but she has her own Half-Sloth-Half-Amish-Manchild QB to thank for Tool Yanker's monster week, so she's actually partly to blame. And if there’s one thing we’ve all learned from the NFL this year, it's definitely “blame the victim.”

Honorable Mention:  Lobos Latinos (136.2 - WHAT!), Nolan United (136.1) and Raging Polacks (136).  Caleb’s off the schnide with an impressive week.  Nolan keeps rollin’ and the Polacks, although up against a buzzsaw (what goes around comes around) still slated an impressive 136 points.  The fact that we had these three teams separated by .2 points could have made for some high drama had the matchups been slightly different. Never in our league’s history have three teams been so close in points.  (This may or may not be true, I literally just typed it after having done no fact-checking).  Caleb could be poised for a big run here, and will no doubt use his upcoming appearance on the Ellen DeGeneres show as a springboard to fantasy football dominance relevance.  Also, that last sentence is not a typo.  Apparently having a string of bad luck coupled with a brief stint as a Mexican government refugee is newsworthy.  Hope you get some free shit, man.  Say hi to Portia for me.

The Willy Lowman:  The fantasy Gods doth have a sense of humor as I am forced to acknowledge myself as the low-scorer of the week.  Although, it was the highest point total in our league’s history to ever have been the Lowman.  (Again, no fact-checking, just assuming/hoping/willing that to be true).  Last week's Stud of the Week got to pen the newsletter so I suppose it’s only fitting that the Lowman writes it this week. As I disclosed to a few of you on Monday night, my fate as the Lowman was sealed on Sunday morning at 12:23 pm (in Picture People, no less, surrounded by demons and incubi) when I switched Floyd (14.7 pts) for Asiata (2.5 pts) from my mobile phone.  The move cost me the game against a pedestrian and very beatable Knuckle Junction.  I was so disgusted at one point that I actually tried to concede my game to E, like a real bitch, at 3:46 pm.  He really tried to let me, even asking for it in writing, which I refused. 

The aforementioned Floyd takes home the Bench Bomb honors as starting him would have propelled me to victory and left the Big Sandwich as the Lowman, with E a VERY close second.  Matt Asiata, aka Fat Asia, rounds out the dreaded sweep for the Balls by landing himself in the Do Better Chair after 2 carries for -5 yards and one catch for 18 yards.  Have yourself a day, son.  The butterfly effect of that one move is such that one lineup move sweeps for me a whole host of shitty awards, instead of chalking up another win. Instead E squeaks out the win, and oh, Eli gets an honorable mention for being the worst human ever. Goddamn mouth-breathing dickhead.

Honorable Mention:  The Big Sandwich comes in second to last with 117.3 points, no thanks to Welker’s one catch and Garret Graham’s O-for.  His other Graham TE, Jimmy, was on a bye and scored the same amount.  Oh, and be tee dubs, J. Graham is dead for a few weeks, so by all means don’t spend five dollars on a decent TE replacement and keep rolling out GG.  Thanks for playing.

Miscellany:

I’ve mentioned that Taco’s off the schnide, but haven’t discussed the absolute perfect fashion in which it happened.  Monday night, Crop had Kaepernick going against Be Quick and Niners D (excellent possible band/team name), and needed stars to align to pull off a comeback from a heavy deficit.  Kaepernick improbably had himself a night and he pulled to within two points of Caleb as the fourth quarter drew to a close.  All he needed was one more TD pass from Kap, or any Ram other than Quick to score.  What happened in the final minutes was really what I enjoy most about fantasy football:  other people’s misfortune and semi-public shortcomings.  As Vernon Davis squared off to collect a sure Kaepernick TD and the win for Crop, another San Fran player made sure that Crop would absolutely not win and ran right into Davis causing neither to catch the ball.  Cue the FG unit.  Two points short.  The Rams then have a chance to score on the next drive.  A TD would have won it for Crop.  Instead the Rams receiver (not Be Quick) runs away from the ball as if it were loaded with arsenic.  Cue the FG unit.  Two points short.  SF goes three and out, STL gets the ball back, and Crop’s in business.  Austin Davis drops back, finds an open man and it’s a TD!  Pick-six the other way for Caleb’s D/ST to put the nail in the coffin and move him to 1-5.  Also, Crop becomes the first annual recipient of the Tacotastic Trophy – the team that succumbs to Taco first each year supplies a party box of tacos at the wrap party.  Congrats Crop!

Monday night wasn’t all doom and gloom as Vandelay pulled off an impressive comeback thanks to Antoine Baldwin’s big night.  I’d write more about it here, but I just can’t care anymore about at this point, and frankly, neither do any of you.

And there you have it, Week 6 is in the books.  Despite some of your records, this is still anyone’s league.  Yes Fadi, despite the horrendous trade you made, you still have a shot.  (Doom on you Sam for ass-handling a rookie.  For shame).  I look forward to seeing you all in my happy place on a Sunday soon, where you may all soon revel in high definition, commercial free fantasy football viewing, and watching me be forever plagued by my perpetually worse over-tinkering.  To Laura’s buddy up in Cranberry:  DO BETTER!

Travis Dunn, I’m hoping that you too can do better next week for your turn on the keyboard.  Balls out.