Fantasy football is Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.
You think you’re going to be the one to win it all only to have your flaws exploited and you end up floating down a chocolate river, but instead of chocolate, the river is made up of shame and embarrassment.
All this happens while the one person, who barely got into the league and couldn’t care less about it, ends up winning everything and is the toast of the town.
I hate fantasy football. I also hate Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Charlie and Grandpa Lazy Ass drank fizzy lifting drinks, thereby disqualifying them from any inheritance. Also, what kind of predatory deviant has random children compete against each other for a massive prize?
A predator. And a slave owner (see: Oompa Loompa).
Nothing matters. No one is smart. Especially me.
Every year, I tell everyone in my league that they are unintelligent simpletons incapable of knowing a good football player from a normal citizen with undiagnosed concussions. And every year, my best players are murdered and my lineup consists of a bunch of white wide receivers (not even the good ones on the Patriots) and a guy who played for North Carolina State, but he was pretty good in college when he played Chattanooga so he should be good against the Eagles.
And every year, the people who choose their lineups based on “how nice of a smile a player has” (not kidding, real thing) go on to win the league.
I don’t learn from my mistakes because I don’t want to. Doing so would mean that all the time invested in learning this stupid sport was wasted and nothing I do matters. Fantasy football is basically poker wherein there is no skill involved, it’s random.
That’s not true. There tons of fantasy experts who know how to formulate winning teams and help you pick the right players for games based on statistics and knowledge.
Fantasy experts are a lot like the guy who thought he cured his cancer with carrot juice. He genuinely thought what he was doing was informing the public with cold-hard facts. But in reality, he’s a quack who provides anyone willing to listen with nonsense.
That is what a fantasy expert is.
“You should start Todd Gurley this week. He tweeted that “God is good” so he is spiritually protected this week. He’s also a downhill runner, which is a VERY good thing.”
Downhill runner is a phrase that means nothing. If you hear this from anyone, it means they have run out of things to say. It’s like when someone says “good stuff” to you when you tell them about the boring crap in your life; it’s verbal filler.
Fantasy experts are on the same level as your Facebook friends who sell fit tea from home: they are bull crap artists.
Fantasy sports can all go to hell