Believe it or not, I do not try to appease the fantasy gods,
because, that is the silliest thing I have ever heard. I hope I have angered
the fantasy gods and they strike me down with the brute force of 10,000 volts
of losing electrical power. While I wait
for the lightening to strike me, I will continue to rack up championships.
Simply put, I win because I am that damn good.
Winning in fantasy football is based on blood, sweat, and pigskin
knowledge. After an entire off-season of studying the players and their
situations, I put in hours of endless research to reach my goals of fantasy
superiority. That’s right; I get off on
doing everything I can to prove the inexistence of superstition and false
deities of a game. Hey, Zeus; I am still
waiting for that lightening.
Who in the hell am I kidding? It may not be an invisible man
in the sky that seals my fate in many of my leagues, but you know what does;
Karma. If you take care of her, she will
take care of you. You know the drill
about Karma; that she can be a thing that rhymes with a witch, and that she can
kick your thing that rhymes with bass. (Hey, this is a family website!) What I
mean is this; you can do all the preparation you want, because, it still doesn’t
matter. Someone that doesn’t deserve to
win your league will win it. You know
the type; the woman that comes in with the rankings from the four letter
website the day of the draft, just going down the list picking players that it
tells her to. Why does she win? She must
have bought out Karma with a lot of money (I tried but she must have seen my
credit report). I have, also, tried to ask Karma out, but somehow she knows I
am just using her to win a championship, and well, that isn’t good either. Last place, here I come!
Finally, I quit playing games with Karma, and we became
friends. So much so, that she helped me one year out of a very tough
situation. I have loved that woman, err
thing ever since. Let me set the stage. It was a very dark time for fantasy
football, as I was in the semi-finals of my money league. You might be thinking
to yourself, how could that possibly a dark time? Well, my friend, sometimes
you have to look below the surface of the silver lining to see the dark
cloud. Let’s just put it this way. I had to sacrifice my championship for the
integrity of my sacred league, or so I thought.
You see, this is just the type of dilemma that Karma loves,
because it is true; she is a (rhymes with witch). The 2004 playoffs had started and my
opponent, the Gridiron Goobers was losing to me by five points at the end of
Sunday evening, with only a Monday night game to seal my fate in this most
important playoff match up. Did I ever mention the disdain and utter hatred I
had for this guy? You know why? Well, I will tell you exactly why. He is that guy that gets lucky every year,
and wins or comes close to it and knows nothing. He is the guy you laugh at during the draft
when he picks a guy in the first round that doesn’t belong and he still kicks
your (rhymes with bass) no matter how much preparation you put yourself
through. He is the guy you steals your
girlfriend from you? Damn it, Karma was
my (rhymes with witch). I wanted to beat him bad, more than anything in my revenge
seeking body. I prayed to the fantasy gods, I used a voodoo doll, I sprinkles
fairy dust on my lineup cards, I did just about everything I could do to win at
all costs, but he had the trump card. He had Karma.
Being such a nice guy that I am, I help run the money league
to take some of the stress off of the “real” commissioner. So, I have to take the integrity of the
league very seriously, even if it means compromising my competitive edge. What
was about to happen would be the most excruciating decision I have ever had to
make running a fantasy league. I had already mentioned the five point lead I
have accrued during the Sunday slate of games, but I was about to receive the
darkest phone call in the history of fantasy football history. After the Sunday Night game, the
co-commissioner called to tell me about his big mistake and my big misfortune.
All day I was following the live score thinking that I was winning by five and
possibly on my way to a championship.
It seems that my mortal enemy had called a different lineup
than was posted on the website and the “other commissioner” forgot to submit it
in time. Oh, that is just great, I
thought. Through all of his whimpering and whining, he didn’t know what to do.
At that point, I could have given him a few suggestions that I won’t repeat
here, because as I have stated before, this is a family website.
“I don’t know what to do,” he cried in the phone over and
“I’ll tell you what to do.
Give me my damn championship.” I was pissed (screw the family website
thing)! How could this happen to
me? I was freaking winning. You could not imagine the layers and layers
of anger that was swirling the emotional makeup that I was experiencing.
Somehow, after I clamed down, I knew that wasn’t fair to the codknocker, I mean
opposition that submitted his lineup on time.
He drives a truck for a living and does not have computer access and
depends on us, the co-commissioners to submit the lineup that he called in on
time. The only fair and just thing to do as the commissioner to protect the
integrity of the league would be to allow the lineup he called in. All of the sudden, my anger turned to layers
of disappointment as my five point lead was now a 32 point deficit. I knew in my heart of hearts, I did the right
thing, but it sure the hell didn’t feel good.
So, there I was, losing to my most hated rival because of a
technicality, and a snowball’s chance in, well, you get the picture. All my
hopes and dreams of winning the championship were dashed because the other
commissioner was a moron. There was no way I could overcome a thirty-two point
deficit, when he has Derrick Mason going for him and I had Billy “Freaking”
Volek. I wasn’t even sure he was going
to play. There were reports that McNair was going to start for the Titans. I was just about to call my opponent to
congratulate him on the victory, until I received a very welcome tap on the
shoulder. I wonder who that could be.
Early in the deciding Monday Night game, Derrick Mason got
injured. Now, I would never wish injury
on anybody, but fate seemed to start swinging my way. Not only that, but where in the world did
Volek come from? He seemed like a man
possessed as he threw for 200 yards and 2 touchdowns in the first half. In only
the first half, I had vanquished my opponent in the fantasy field of battle. This was simply the most awesome thing I have
ever experienced as an owner of a fantasy football team. It was like a beam of
hope that hit me from the skies as I danced around in sheer excitement. Karma finally rewarded me for doing the
right thing. Thank you, Karma! Thank you! Thank You! Thank You!
She had denounced her evil ways and was on the side of good in the
never-ending battle of fantasy dominance. Finally, Karma was my lady as she
helped me win another fantasy football money league championship.
Too bad, our relationship never lasted, as we broke up
immediately after that season. I wasn’t
ready for that kind of commitment and she wasn’t ready for my violent and
alcoholic tendencies. But, I have to say, that for one brief shining time,
Karma and I shared a very special moment in 2004. You can keep your fantasy
gods, but as for me, I will always remember Karma.
If I can get my lazy
touchas to a typewriter in the next few weeks, I will be writing some very
useful articles that will change the face of 2007 fantasy football
forever. My positional rankings and
where you should target them. That’s
right, I will tell you where you can receive the gems and who to avoid, Lundy
style. More to come, soon
As always, if you have
any hate mail, complaints, death threats, or if you just want to drop a line
telling me how awesome I am; email me at Lundylove@msn.com.
I might even answer some of your deepest darkest fantasy questions as long as
it is about football.