A letter to my vanquished fantasy football opponent
I think you know me well enough to know that I’m not one to adhere to social conventions for the sake of meeting expectations. Fish gotta swim, Birds gotta fly, I’ve got to go on being Mark Hemingway until the day I die. So I’m concerned that after yesterday’s fantasy football victory over you, you think I would be inclined to say some pithy things about how your total inability to get your act together and show up for the draft meant that you had to lean on Joel to select your players. And how I might use this as a launching point to explain how this is broadly reflective of your bigger failures as a person. I believe this is colloquially known as “trash talking,” and I feel dirty even thinking about sinking to such depths.
I come not to bury you in trash, but to offer my sympathies. I can only imagine how humiliating it must feel for me to have more than doubled your score, especially since I still have a running back who’s likely to rub salt in the wound by scoring a nontrivial number of points in the game tonight. Not only that, this was the week where my highest scoring player—Aaron Rodgers—was on a bye. And yet, I still scored 32 points with a QB I yanked off the waiver wire. I know you’re still 2-2, but with yesterday’s utter breakdown I suspect you’re going through a much Darker Night of the Soul than that record would suggest.
So I just wanted to say, hang in there, Ric. I mean, you should also beg, borrow or steal a running back that doesn’t suck so bad he plays like he was engineered by James Dyson—but hang in there.
I had better get off the toilet now,
P.S. If you doubt my sincerity, I refer you to the whimsical illustration attached to this email.