Mama said there’d be days like this.

Coming from Detroit, I’m used to football bringing me more pain than pleasure. It just comes with the territory of being raised a Lions fan. I’ve grown accustomed to Sundays that are filled with heartache and rage. Screaming at the TV and cursing the Gods, old and new. Like a true battered lover, I blame myself. It’s my fault for still investing so much in a team that I know was placed on this earth to bring grief to Southeast Michigan, as well as those poor fools like myself who have moved on geographically but can’t shake the Honolulu Blue and Silver disease of our homeland.

If this was about just another Lions loss then I probably would not be writing this. I can deal with a Lions loss, I’ve been here before. Sure, this was one of the more painful regular-season losses in recent memory, especially for a team with such high hopes for the season. But shitting the bed against a (in my opinion, lesser) division opponent is nothing new for me. This past Sunday, September 20th, was continuously brutal from beginning to end, and I feel like I just have to vent my rage and frustration in hopes that it will help someone else….. Or that someone will help me. Please, I beg you to help me.

I have no words

As if the Lions loss wasn’t enough, I may have had the worst day in the history of fantasy sports and it starts with my survivor pool. After having selected the Steelers to beat the 49ers at home, I stupidly overthought the decision and made a last second switch to the Rams. My reasoning was that St Louis looked very strong, especially on defense, against the Seahawks in their win at home in week 1, and that the Steelers had not. All of that vanished on the road when the Rams traveled to play the (previously thought) piss-poor Redskins. Everyone except the other person who took the Steelers in the pool were eliminated when they picked the Saints, Colts and Dolphins to win this week. If I hadn’t have tinkered myself to a loss, I could be one of only two remaining in the pool, vying for a nice chunk of change. Okay, what can you do, it was a crazy week and everyone lost. My dear friend, Trent, will be taking home the big prize after only two weeks. I guess I can live with that.

The struggle continued and I remained the butt of some cosmic joke as I limped to three losses in three different fantasy football leagues. It was truly a losing day for the ages. In my favorite league, where I am the commissioner, my starting running back tandem of Jeremy Hill and Ameer Abdullah combined to give me a whopping negative-one point. NEGATIVE-ONE! I would have been better off leaving those two positions empty. How the fuck does that even happen? If that wasn’t enough, I left Travis Benjamin on my bench with his 3 total touchdowns. I might have actually won if I had started him over Mike Evans, who also gave me a big, fat zero.

So my big money league team started off poorly. Maybe my other two leagues have greener pastures ahead. WRONG….. My starting QB in league #2 is Tony Romo, so those dreams are broken along with his left clavicle. Hopefully my backup, Eli Manning can keep the interceptions under control and help me get the wins I need until Romo comes back, but I’m not very optimistic.

Poor Romo

My other QB, my first round pick, Andrew Luck, is playing about as ugly as his beard through two weeks. Like, really bad. He has 3 touchdown and 5 interceptions, to go along with a 54.7% completion rate. I’m going to attribute this to the fact that he has played top defenses each week but still, he is supposed to be one of the best and he looks like Blaine Gabbert out there. But I digress.

Only two weeks into football and I’m already starting to lose hope. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This was supposed to be my year. Two weeks ago I was so vibrant and full of life; ready to take on the world. Now I feel dejected, lost and alone. A broken soul and a lost heart, longing for something or someone to bring me back to life. I’m just not sure it’s going to happen and I don’t know why I continue to do this to myself.

Like some devil-filled junkie, I’m still chasing the dragon. The memory of how sweet it once was fuels my quest to get back to that feeling. I remember making the playoffs and winning the league. I remember the Lions’ winning a playoff game (sad but that’s as good as it’s ever gotten). I just need to get back on my feet, that’s all. It won’t always be this bad, I just know it. If just a few things go my way then it’ll all be better. So here’s to hoping and praying that the Football Gods have some mercy on me before I break. Cuz this drug is something I just can’t quit.

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