Live Damnit
As a two time fantasy champion in 2013, I’ve done the unthinkable—I’ve retired from fantasy. I know, I know, you’re going to tell me: I’m 34, I’m in the prime of my career, I’ve got players relying on me, an organization I’ve built from the ground up, records to break. And I know all your points are valid. I know that I’ll miss logging in and hearing the Sportscenter alert on draft day. I’ll miss the shit talking. Yes, of course, I will. But after winning my townie league (That’s the term I use to describe my hometown league. The term“townie”will most likely offend you if you still live in the city you were born in) and my work league in the same season, I decided to retire.
The question I’m asked most by the media is, “why”?
I’ll tell you the same thing I’ve told thousands of reporters—there was nothing left for me to accomplish. It simply doesn’t get any better. I get to brag to the guys I’ve known longest in my life and people I’m forced to be around 40+ hours a week forever. There will never be a better feeling than winning two championships in the same year. I’ll never start 0-4 again; I’ll never get a text from a buddy laughing because my second round RB is limping off the field headed towards the locker room; I’ll never scream at my girlfriend again for asking me the same question four times when really it was because Russell Wilson ran in a QB sneak from the 3 yard line instead of Marshawn Lynch getting me 6 points (to be fair, the previous play was a Lynch TD that was called back due to holding, so she had to assume I was already pissed off and for good reason). I’ll only have enjoyable Sundays to look forward to the rest of my life.
The questions I hear from my friends and coworkers most is (well, first it’s usually a statement about being a bitch and quitting), “won’t you miss talking shit”?
Sure. That’s the reason guys like me play. It’s not about the money, the fame, the records; it’s about the feeling you get on Monday night when your team is up 35 and you get to text the friend you’ve known since the age of 8: “welcome to loserville, population YOU”. Even though you’re both 5’11 and couldn’t get through one NFL snap, this win proves you know more, and thus, are better at sports than he is and he has to take it. So why would I leave all this at the maximum of shit talking? Because I’ll get to continue talking while they’ve run out of material. I was wise enough to ask for log-ins to each league so I can still follow the action (of course I’m logging in and gathering material to ensure my jokes and shit-talking doesn’t go stale). This is one of the smartest moves I’ve made during my retirement.
Lastly, a good amount of former NFL players are asking me, “what has changed most about your life”?
My anger. Say goodbye to Sunday afternoons throwing remotes (I recently bought whiffle balls to throw as a replacement when I bet games, so all is not lost), cursing god (don’t judge me for christ’s sake), trying to skip over channels to avoid watching an opponent’s player in the red zone, yelling at incoming phone calls because I’m trying to refresh my browser, etc.
Do I have any final advice to all current owners?
If you are lucky enough to win multiple leagues in one year, give my story some thought before you jump back in and start losing to guys that build their teams on the waiver wire. In the words of George Castanza, “live dammit! LIVE, every precious moment like it’s the last year of your life, because it many ways it is (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8cTkTEpEYfk).
