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Monday 16th Oct 2017

It is playoff time in most fantasy leagues which for me is defined as consolation playoffs in two leagues, a pathetic team in one, and mercifully a bye week in a fourth set up in which I play.

There is indeed something less compelling about watching games without it mattering to your players, but the last few weeks watching football teams I like has been sort of like watching my pitchers go at it in Fantasy Baseball.

For example, yesterday morning I was preparing for my guitar lesson at kickoff, getting dressed, packing up my Gibson acoustic I love so dearly, wandering in front of the tube for random moments.

As I sat down to put my shoes on, the first play I saw was Jay Cutler getting picked, an act the Bears QB repeated when I returned home and flipped the tube back on, much to my chagrin.

It is familiar, however, in that my teams, especially my Lawrceny squad seem to be able to emulate the performance of their grid iron counterparts.

Not that I am ever dangerous in the Kathy League Gifford, where Lawrceny attempts to compete. Twice over the past handful of years have we fielded a competitive squad. And this year, after thinking I had drafted some stalwarts in Eli Manning, Alex Smith, and Maurice Jones-Drew--and they were my top three picks--dialed it out either via injury, extended ineffectiveness, or both.

In a league where we play two signal callers each week, it is bad enough that my guys tanked at that spot, but behind Drew was Michael Bush, another marvel of mediocrity this season.

I am not sure exactly how my drafting did not place this team in last place, but well, there are still three Sundays left in the season during which I might well snatch the less-than-coveted cellar.

It is just frustrating to watch the teams I like to follow, like the Bears and Raiders, and see how life imitates art.

In fact, as the afternoon rolled along, and I watched and wrote a little and snoozed, I had to laugh in some kind of sympathy with poor Ken Whisenhunt, whose Cardinals were being totally clocked by the Seahawks 58-0 when I flipped the channel first to the Saints, who were really getting similarly drubbed by the Giants (now, when it does not matter, Manning gets back into his groove?).

So, as I waited for Sunday night, and found The Big Lebowski on cable, I decided to try and deal with this like the Dude.

Baseball season is not so far off. And football season will return in nine months and suddenly everything will be shiny and new again in Fantasy Football, at least for the first few weeks.

In the mean time we must all simply abide.

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