Alright, so quick story:
My friends and I play in a fantasy football league together, or the “International Male Day of Leisure Fantasy Football League” to be precise. IMDOLFFL all started roughly five years ago when one of my buddies had the novel idea of getting a league together since we were all finally out of college and hanging out together on Sundays for “Man Day” anyways. Man Day was always a good time – a few adult beverages, sports, and good old fashioned ball busting. But there was something missing. Fantasy football.
Fast forward five years, and just this past Sunday we held our sixth annual draft. My, how time flies! During our first draft party in 2012, we were all in our early-to-mid twenties and everyone but two of our ten members lived with their parents. Now, five years later, somehow eight of us have managed to move out on our own, everyone but me has entered their third decade of life, and three of my buddies are now married with kids. It’s fair to say most of our lives have slowed down considerably, yet we all still seem to let it loose on draft day.
If I’m being completely honest, draft day is one of my absolute favorite days of the entire year. In fact, it probably beats Christmas for me now. I don’t want to brag here, but we do our draft right. For starters, it’s offline. That means all twelve of us (we added two more members this year) head over to my buddy’s house who commissions the league. We make a shitton of food, drink way too many beers, and maintain the most ridiculous draft day rituals known to man.
For instance, what other fantasy football league do you know of that plays Whitney Houston’s rendition of the National Anthem from Super Bowl XXV while a Steve McNair Titans jersey hangs from the rafters (i.e. my buddy’s back porch ceiling) prior to each draft?
None, because we’re the only one.
Also, what other league do you know of concludes their draft with a “toast” while Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the U.S.A.” blares in the background?
Well, if you’ve guessed none again, you’re (most likely) correct.
I could go on and on about how original and fun our draft party is, but let’s be honest, that’s not the real reason I’m writing this blog today. Instead, I blog to you today to inform you that our league – WAIT FOR IT – instituted a new tradition this year. However, this time it’s not an original idea.
You see, during last year’s draft party, we all agreed we need to develop a punishment for the last place finisher. Tons of other leagues do this. We, on the other hand, have somehow neglected this tradition. Well, besides for that one time after our inaugural season when my one buddy who finished in last place posted a topless selfie of himself and tagged Erin Andrews on twitter (hint: he wasn’t in tip-top physical shape). So before last year’s draft took place, we agreed upon three punishment options for the loser: wear a dress to our one buddy’s annual golf outing, hold a sign reading “I suck at fantasy football” for a night outside of our one buddy’s bar, or get egged by the rest of the league at the next draft party.
Let me be the first to admit that I had absolutely zero doubt in my mind I would ever come in last place in a fantasy football league. Psssh, I was too good for that, I thought. Right?
Last year was unkind to me, my friends. Let me give you the gist of my season:
My first round pick, Adrian Peterson, blew out his knee week 1. My second round pick, Brandon Marshall, had the worst year of his career. My third wrong pick, Jamaal Charles, played in two games before undergoing yet another season-ending knee surgery. My fourth round pick, Alshon Jeffery, was completely nonexistent. My fifth round pick, Andrew Luck, had a down year. And as for the rest of my team, well, let’s just say I was lucky to rattle off just a few wins.
It all happened so fast that before I knew it, I was playing in the “Loser’s Bowl” of the consolation bracket. And you wanna know what happened? I lost. Bad. I don’t even remember the score, but I’m pretty sure I was out of it by the time the 4:00 games rolled around. It was sad, honestly. I went from a guy that made the playoffs three times out of the first four years of our league to finishing in dead last. All because of a few bad decisions on draft day and some ultra shitty luck.
Well, you know what they say, right? To the loser belong the punishments (or something like that). So which did I choose? The worst one, of course. I elected to have nine of my “friends” hurl
54 66 raw eggs (those assholes decided to conveniently add an extra dozen) at me from a distance of 30 feet. Why did I do this, you may ask? Well, believe me, wearing a dress or holding a sign for a few hours would give random people a good laugh, but I wanted to spice up our draft party even more. And I wanted everyone involved. Many would say that’s the ultimate team guy move.
So before our draft took place this past Sunday, I decided to create a little buzz via good old twitter dot com. Since the egging would be taking place at a private party, I figured others would enjoy witnessing the melee as well. I shot out the following two innocent tweets to Matthew Berry and Field Yates of ESPN (i.e. two of the most popular fantasy football experts in the game) and put my phone down for about a half hour.
And go figure, the next time I go to check my phone, I see the following response from The Talented Mr. Roto, himself.
I mean, what are the chances? The guy has almost a million twitter followers, and he’s responding to a no-name guy like me asking me to send him and his production assistant, Kaitlyn, my video so he can use it on his TV show on ESPN. You don’t not do something like this.
So I took the egging like a man (unless you consider dodging most of the eggs a bitch move), filmed it, and tagged Matt and Kaitlyn with the following picture/video:
And Matt, being the good dude he is, followed up to make sure I was okay with him using the video.
I almost responded to him with the classic, “Is the pope catholic?,” but I inevitably bitched out and replied, “Sure can!”
So where will you be able to find this egg beatdown on TV, you’re wondering? Well, I’m assuming it will air sometime this week on “The Fastasy Show” hosted by Matthew Berry weekdays at 5:00 pm on ESPN2. I can’t verify that yet for certain, but more likely than not my poor decision making skills will be on display for millions of Americans across the country very, very soon. I’m sure my parents are proud!
UPDATE: This will be airing tonight at 7:00 pm on ESPN2.
P.S. – At least this guy thinks I look like Ryan Gosling.
Sadly, he’s wrong, but that’s quite possibly the nicest compliment I’ve ever received. You know, considering the fact I sport a schnoz reminiscent of Toucan Sam. Maybe this will become my new look, though. Hell, if people think I look like Ryan Gosling with a goddamn welder’s mask on, I’m gonna wear that thing all the time.
P.P.S. – Sorry that wasn’t a “quick story.” This was one of those blogs where I just started writing and it took off 100 different directions. I blame that on my ADD brain.