As this is my third year in the HBFFL, I’ve observed some patterns.
Every draft, RF is blustery and bullish, Chris is ominously quiet, and I am -inevitably- recovering in a sunny, plain room, wondering if everyone only seems so nice because of the heroic level of sedation.
Rocking back and forth I read handy and supportive posters on the wall -only to realize eventually I had a deep, dark case of Fantasy Football Buyer’s Remorse [quote copyright pending]. I'm already afflicted with the world's first diagnosis of being tri-polar; this should finally tip my handicapped parking placard in.
Shock and Denial: Upon release, I sat down and mock-drafted for hours, puzzling over why my draft was so different than I expected. Why hast Jesus abandoned me so, in this time of such desperate need?
Pain and Guilt: Mistakes were made, and people should be promptly assigned blame. I feel guilty I allowed RF to trick me into trusting that ominously-quiet Chris! I would very much like to inflict some pain on them.
Anger and Bargaining: I’m going to have the entire HBFFL make fun of me for the next eight weeks because of these sixteen assholes? I am so angry, I wonder how much a hit man would charge to have all of those HBFFL pricks just killed. Or if Evil Chris will deal for Cedric Benson.
Depression, Reflection, Loneliness: Woe is me! The hit man I tried to hire? Laughed at my team too! I should hire someone to kill him … and then himself. This is getting expensive.
The Upward Turn: I’m broke, but everyone should be dead in four days. Hooray, me!
Reconstruction and Working Through: This isn’t as overwhelming a task as I thought. I know a bricklayer that has access to a backhoe; twelve six-foot deep holes would scarcely be an afternoon. Shit, I could probably be home before John and Kate Plus 8 reruns start airing.
Acceptance and Hope: I have to find some way to be patient, kinda like Christmas Eve … you know, when you can hardly wait for Santa to kill a dozen people? Man I hope they are all already dead. Ooh! Cookies and milk!
But now that some time has elapsed, I’m looking at the team with a certain degree of optimism.
1) Maurice Jones-Drew - A guys so nosebleed-high on my rankings, I forgot he was there; just as I was learning about his knee amputation, pow, he‘s my number one pick. As a test of health and loyalty, I should have him beat Brian Westbrook into a thick batter.
2) Steven Jackson - It’ll be nice to have some decent music for a change. I tried to draft the other four as well, but it turns out one of them is dead.
3) Vernon Davis - My only holdover from last year. Heath Miller would have been nice, but you can really only lull your opponent to sleep once a season before people start catching on.
4) Chad Och ... Ocho … chinko? - Possibly a double-agent spy for Renal Failure. Jesus. What am I? An idiot? Renal will be so pissed when I sit Chad here out for the rest of the season so he can’t infiltrate anything important. I'll have the rest of my wide receivers keep an eye on him too.
5) Mike Sims-Walker - I can’t thank Mike Sims enough. I’ve always wanted to drive one of these! And by eliminating traffic entirely, I'm sure to make most games by halftime or so.
6) Carson Palmer - Never heard of him. But there’s always the possibility that Carson mentored Drew Brees in his youth, but the NFL made Brees evil and go rogue -and Carson is the only one that can stop him! (Shit. He‘s white!? How white? Like Karl Rove white, or Jackie Chan white ... ?)
7) Minnesota - Nice, but where the hell am I supposed to put it?
8) [Some asshole kicker probably]
9) Santana Moss - A fungus among us? Haw! Well I don’t generally like lichens per se, but this one has “Santa” right smack in the name. Maybe it’s some kind of highly-explosive mistletoe derivative.
10) Malcom Floyd - Freakin awesome, but just not the same without David Waters somehow.
11) T.J. Housh … mandez … adu … ah forget it - And they hadda abbreviate his first and middle name; those must be real motherfuckers to pronounce. I’m sure he’ll be fine after his surgery. (His name wouldn’t fit on the jerseys, so we’re having his shoulders widened.)
12) Jerome Harrison - My first back-up running back. A few weeks ago, he was hailed as a potential football Jesus … then he went and made critical back-to-back fumbles in the preseason. But on the bright side, I shouldn’t need him for a while; he’ll have plenty of time to get used to the Velcro nubs we replaced his hands with. And in hopes it would increase his speed, we’ve also surgically removed his “junk.” I hope Jones-Drew and Jackson are paying attention.
13) Ben Roethlisberger - Seriously? In the thirteenth round? As a backup? Oh man, I gotta start making up false accusations about Drew Brees this year! Let ye who hast not molested teenagers in a bathroom (besides RF) cast the first stone!
14) Todd Heap - Another Caucasian -maybe a kicker or something.
15) Sebastian Janikowski - Hmmm … “Janikowski,” huh? I think he’s French or something. I don’t speak French. I do, however, need a lot of pianos moved this year.
16) Denver - Again, nice. But couldn’t I have gotten two states that were close to each other? That seems like an awful long and mountainous way for Sebastian Janikowski and Todd Heap to be hauling pianos back and forth.