You know, I really enjoyed football last season. It obviously had something to do with Miami unleashing the Wildcat and bouncing back from a 1-15 year to win the AFC East (Fuck you Favre!) but it had a lot to do with not playing any fantasy football.

A season without fantasy football immediately becomes 1000 times better. There's no stress, no rooting against players on your own team (damn you Ricky Williams, do NOT score another touchdown!!) and there's no hoping that some guy that you don't give a shit about scores you some points (Come on Heath Miller, CATCH SOME PASSES!!).

I gave up on fantasy last season and it was the shit. I focused solely on the Dolphins, I actually enjoyed my Sunday afternoons and I didn't feel the need to stab anyone in the office on Monday mornings. It was as awesome as a foul-mouthed pigeon that likes country music.

This year however, I took the plunge again but like you may have read, I'm not giving a shit. So, I just set my line-up and pretend not to pay attention to what is happening on the field and whatever happens happens. If I win, it's good times. If I lose, I just shrug my shoulders and proceed to walk around naked in my yard. Nice mindset right? WRONG! Wrong like a Peter King book about his old MMQB columns.

Everything was working fine until last week. Team Moneyline Loser had a 6-1 record, my erection was visible from outer space and 7-1 was basically a given. To make a long and depressing story short, I had a 5 point lead going into the MNF game and I had Marques Colston going while my opponent had Roddy White and Darren Sharper. I was supposed to not give a shit but deep down I definitely was giving plenty of shits. I wanted to go to 7-1. I needed to go to 7-1. I needed it like Peter King needs Brett Favre's land working musk.

Fast forward towards the end of the game and the Falcons had just kicked a field goal to cut the Saints lead to 8 points. There were about 30 seconds left and I had a 0.5 point lead and all I needed was for New Orleans to recover the onside kick. THAT'S ALL I NEEDED DAMN IT!!

You know what happened next. The Falcons recovered and Matt Ryan had one shot at the end zone. Ryan dropped back, heaved a prayer towards the end zone and it was promptly intercepted by Sharper. Game over. I lose by 2.5 points. FUCK YOU DARREN SHARPER. FUCK YOU MATT RYAN. FUCK YOU SAINTS SPECIAL TEAMS. FUCK YOU ONCE  MORE DARREN SHARPER!! AND FUCK FANTASY FOOTBALL!!! I WANT TO RUN THROUGH ON COMING TRAFFIC!!!

Excuse me while I go punish myself by reading a Peter King column.

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