My first two years of fantasy football were very successful and involved a large amount of luck. I get that. I accept that. I knew it couldn't go on for ever. So for the most part, I can live with the abomination that has been my current fantasy season. But one thing I just can't bring myself to accept is Trent Richardson. There is simply no acceptable explanation for the degree of ass that he has sucked. No, I did not actually watch any Browns football last year, but how could everyone have been so wrong about this guy? He was productive last season, and all I read this year is about how he's come into camp in great shape, looking explosive, good hands out of the backfield, centerpiece of the offense, blah blah blah. So he starts the year unproductively on a crappy team, then amazingly gets traded to a good team where he's handed the starting role, and many knowledgeable fantasy losers start claiming he's a top 5 back now. He proceeds to completely shit the bed. Like, he doesn't even belong in the league in any capacity. What a turd.
So as I checked the score of the Monday night game last night, and saw that indeed no miracles had happened and another humiliating defeat for my fantasy team was in the books, I began to think about Trent Richardson and how I felt about his 1.7 pt contribution this week. I knew very quickly that our toxic relationship could not continue. Would I just put him on the bench and let him rot? No. Absolutely not. There is an awful Trent Richardson stench that is hanging over my entire roster. It needs to be scrubbed clean. So trade him for something? Anything? No! I will not lower myself to pretending for one second that Trent Richardson has any value whatsoever. He will be unceremoniously dumped on his ass and that's the end of it. A warm satisfaction pumped through my veins as I thought about my revenge. I imagined a sullen Trent Richardson, sitting on the bench, thinking about his failure and overcome with embarrassment and remorse by the way I had discarded him. He'd do anything, ANYTHING to earn his way back into my good graces. No. No Trent Richardson! It's over. You've failed. Failed!
I then broke out of my little daydream, shook my head at myself and mumbled, "I'm losing my fucking mind."
"Don't say that Daddy!", Maya admonishes me. "You're silly. You're silly Daddy."
Yes. Yes I am.