Fantasy football is a fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Flick on Red Zone and watch the stars of the NFL put on a show, while you’re viciously trash talking your opponent that week. It’s the closest all us couch potatoes will get to real athletic competition.
I’m not bragging, but in seven years of playing fantasy football, I am a three-time champion, two-time runner-up, and a third-place finish. If you do the math, I’ve finished in the top three, six of seven seasons.
This may shock you, but despite my abundance of fantasy dominance, I still live paycheque to paycheque, and I still have to get up every morning and go to work like the rest of you schmucks.
The tragic death of Pittsburgh Steelers’ quarterback Dwayne Haskins brought to light how sports fans, media members, and fantasy owners are douchebags.
In my video editorial, I discuss why nobody cares about your fantasy team, and why getting mad at players is ridiculous.
