Author Archives: tsacks
The Mantasy Man on Love
I watch football. Like, on a television. It is one day out of my busy week (wink-wink), but I make it because that is what we do for the ones that we love.
I love football, so I make the time to be with it. Yes, I am usually in a bar, and no, I do not typically know how many refreshments I have purchased, but that’s what I do to enjoy the company of my Sunday love, the NFL-brand of Football. That’s Football, with a capital F. I love you.
Ah, love. What complex thing that it is. Former Fantasy Playwriting Legend William Shakespeare pointed out that, “The course of true love never did run smooth.” Dude was correct. I drafted Shakespeare in the first round of my Fantasy Playwriting League in 1903, fresh off his completion of Othello. I saw the upside that would eventually be realized, but all I got that season was Timons of Athens, a proverbial cock tease of a play.
The point is that like Fantasy Playwriting, Fantasy Football is a devastating roller coaster ride of emotions. What is worse, once it has bitten you with its insidious fangs and loaded your veins with its nasty venom, you become stubbornly irrational, lashing out the very thing that you had proclaimed to care for so deeply when only moments earlier when Cedric Benson decided to land in the end zone, raising his yards per carry from 2.9 to 3.1. Such is life when you rest in a den of snakes or draft bar-brawling Bengals running backs.
Is this what love looks like?
I would be a fool to pick on one man, however, so allow me to shout out some other players who played tunes with our heart strings in week 6:
Ahmad Bradshaw: Let me be the ten thousandth Giants fan to proclaim that the jump-spike is the sexiest celebration in all of sports, and Shawmad Bradah has me all twisted up doing it three times in one game. His detractors will say something about Brandon Jacobs being out leading to more goal line carries, but perhaps this will be a message to the world (which occasionally includes Tom Coughlin) that Brandon Jacobs is not a goal line back.
Look, I like Jacobs, but he does nothing better than Bradshaw, save for destroying grown men in the open field. I’m sort of cool with Bradshaw running around defenders, though, so I’ll take this guy getting carries all day, every day. Ready for the punch line? Bradshaw is a giant sell high. Pun intended.
Glorious.
Ryan Torain: I badly wanted Torain to be successful this week, and as such, add his name to a growing list of running backs to have Ashton Kutcher the Eagles run defense. Everything goes dark. A beam of light from the heavens comes down and illuminates a man sitting on the edge of an old spring bed with a dirty old man.
The man looks weary, his forehead resting in palms, his elbows on his knees. He looks beaten, defeated even. The crowd waits with bated-breathe. He sits up ever so slightly, looking out upon his audience. A grin creeps upon his wind-cracked cheeks. It is Mike Shanahan. You have been punk’d
Rex Grossman: I knew this guy was awful. You knew he was awful. What went wrong here? When did we let this guy move his stuff back into our Fantasy Frat House? I just threw up in my mouth. Gross, man. Gross man. Whatever. Can we be done with this guy forever?
Josh Freeman: Welcome back. I’m not going to say I saw this rebound coming because I’ve always suspected that he was not as good as unnamed major sports network told me that he is, but I also knew that he is not as bad as he has been. Hi, my name is The Fence, you should be on me in your thinking about this guy as a fantasy quarterback.
Fred Jackson: Drop Dead Fred is either a terrific movie or terrible movie, depending on whether you have stayed up all night smoking crack. I must have stayed up all night Saturday and hit the rock because this guy is the truth serum and he is dosing us all. Wowie!
Typical Fred Jackson owner.
Michael Turner: For everything there is a season, Turner, Turner, Turner…A time of love, a time of hate…A time of war, a time of peace…but generally speaking, every single time is a time for Michael Turner to score touchdown after touchdown. Hate if you want, but he is exactly as advertised: A money-making touchdown machine.
Frank Gore: Tim Gunn spent the weekend at the Gore household. After a lovely meal and some extremely haughty comments about Frank Gore’s first two weeks, he spent the rest of the time learning that Frank is a wizard with a sewing machine and that bad offensive line, broken hip or not, the 49er centerpiece is making it work.
I Love Project Runway, but don’t tell my Dad or he’ll beat some sense into me.
Calvin Johnson: Where for art thou, Megatron? This is obviously not a big deal, but anytime he fails to score between two and four touchdowns, I think it is notable. Calvin Johnson’s congealed blood can be used to shape diamonds.
DeAngelo Williams: I want to end on a happy note. I’m not going to, but I want to. Instead, I will point out that DeAngelo Williams is not a playable fantasy running back. Possible trade targets for DeAngelo Williams: 1) A mostly used D battery. 2) Your friend’s toothbrush. 3) The 1997 Fleer set of all San Diego Padres infielders. Hey, DeAngelo, go F yourself, with a capital F. I hate you.
Morpheus knows about DeAngelo Williams.
Good luck in week 7 and remember: It’s your fantasy, it’s my fantasy, but it’s our Mantasy.
