In a blink of an eye, my Fantasy Football season is over. Out of 14 teams I finished in 12th place. So I am not the ultimate loser, but pretty darn close.
For the most part Matthew Stafford was a disappointment. 10 interceptions and 37 sacks? Alshon Jefferey barely started to show up. Zack Ertz was never thrown the ball, even with the talent of a TE1. The starting RB's on my team were more consistent, yet still not phenomenal; Joique Bell and Lamar Miller. I was plagued with injuries, just like the rest of us, and saw the words "probable and questionable" all too often on my roster.
Every season I don't win comes the promise of a new season filled with hope, wonder, excitement and the possibility of winning the championship. Every season I say "Next year I won't drink and draft" and every new season I drink and draft. I guess when it comes down to it, it's mainly luck.
So I say "better luck next year Ames" to myself and now I can sit back and watch my Rams play an entire game instead of the Red Zone channel for 8 hours. I will miss you Andrew Siciliano. Until next season.
~Dearest Neighbors, Please do not call the police, it's not domestic violence or a wild party, it's football season and that's just me screaming at my TV.
Finding therapy through writing, self-reflection and the pursuit of what defines me.