When I was in 5th grade, I joined the St. Catharine's basketball team. For the next four years, our ragtag group of 5-footers (and me) would consistently shoot under 15% en route to a typical one-win season.
We were easily the worst team in the league, only stealing wins against the other S.C.I.S. incapable clowns, but there was one team that typically put the game away in the first quarter: St. Elizabeth's.
Since I had no business ever venturing beneath the rim, my defensive assignment was always to cover the opponent's best shooter. In St. Elizabeth's case, it was a blond hair, blue eyed little tool named Vince.
Years later, I transferred to PC and met a kid in my English class named Fitz with whom I quickly became good friends, aided by our mutual interest in sports. Since then, we played on a bunch of baseball teams together, but still had a growing rivalry in one of our favorite pastimes, fantasy sports.
I entered the fantasy football world years ago as a mere fledgling in a valley swarming with vultures, all waiting for me to keel over so they can feast on their next victim. Early on, I kept them quite full with my ineptitude, highlighted by my drafting of two kickers, neither in the last round, and one before the sixth.
Since then, I have slowly and quietly crept up to being one of the most underrated teams in the league. Much like the 2008 Tampa Bay Rays, years of failure had paved the way to allow for observance and resurgence, and this year may very well be the culmination.
After starting this season 3-0, things were looking good for New Jersey's beloved Crushers. I was a few days away from cruising to 4-0, and I had already started looking ahead to my Week 5 matchup against current Dudes' division favorite Brain Hemorrhages. Throughout this process, I barely glanced at the small blip on my radar named RBS, then laughed as I saw my 40+ point projected margin of victory and carried on with my daily tasks of awaiting interesting emails and thinking of witty responses.
I walked into my team's locker room Tuesday night to see a bunch of my players goofing around, already talking about the Week 5 game against the Hemorrhoids. I went home clouded by the excitement that would surround that epic showdown, completely disregarding any thoughts of how to motivate my team for the Fumblin's this weekend.
Sitting at my desk on Wednesday, I saw an email flash on my screen. It was this week's power rankings for the league. My team was ranked number two, fair considering the Hemorrhoids were playing more like Steroids; being second to them is no insult. The blurb about my team was simple, but contained the one phrase that turned the aforementioned blip into a beep: trap game.
I wracked my brain thinking of ways that I could motivate my team to bring their A-game against the lowly Stumblin's. Then, as if on cue, another email came in:
Watch out. im making a prediction...fru is the only 4-0 team in the league! -Fitz, owner of the Rumblin' Bumblin' Stumblin's
Excuse me? Did I hear this correctly? Did the owner of the worst team in the league just call out my team? This is the same guy that sat in my house and asked the room, "do you guys believe in that?" referring to the Loch Ness Monster!
Now he has officially lost his mind.
This is the equivalent of Coco Crisp sliding hard into Akinori Iwamura in 2008 and James Shields drilling him in the leg to send a message. The Crushers will not be pushed around by these Bumblin' punks.
This week just got ratcheted up to the highest level of importance. Practices are crisp and precise, and the team is fully prepared to punish the Bumblin's for their bigmouth owner waking the sleeping giant.
The comments will be posted on the team's bulletin board, and some strategic moves will still be falling into place. Until then, the best ol' Fitz can do is wait and hope the bullet train is painless.
It shouldn't take nearly as long as it did for me to realize everyone was really saying "Fitz" instead of "Vince" all along.
