Memoirs of a Champ, Vol. I

Before commencement of my inaugural missive as reigning league champion it should behove me to acknowledge a few fine individuals for their involvement with this organization.

Firstly, I offer the warmest of welcomes to Mr. Travis "Orangeman" Seavers and Mr. Clarke "MacArthur Park" Croissant.  I trust you both to be worthy competitors, and anticipate much bloodshed in future matches.

Secondly, I must thank all the other contributors to this superb blog, both past and present.  This would include Mr. Keith "Don't Stealers Wheel My Heart" Friesen, Mr. Andrew "Luck Is Where Preparation Meets Opportunity" Oliphant, and Mr. John "Real G's Move In Silence Like Lasagna" Dirom.  Speaking only for myself, your posts have provided great insight and levity over the years, and I appreciate the thought and time expended.

Thirdly, to the one who keeps this train on the tracks, a shout-out to our esteemed leader, the Governor himself, Mr. John "Don't Let Me Into My Zone" Dirom's infamous alter ego ... The Commish.  Your leadership is unmatched, and your enthusiasm is contagious; thank you for making The Fantasy League of Extraordinary Gentlemen an ongoing reality for me and the rest of the crew. [oh, and your humorous photoshops are also pretty fantastic]

Since having been bestowed the gauntlet to write a weekly blurb entitled Memoirs of a Champ, I've spent considerable time pondering just what that means to me.  Ironically, it is to that very fundamental question that I've yet to come up with a meaningful answer.  As such, I've also been struggling with a theme for my fantasy football literary début.  That was until reading Keith's excellent topical piece (which, to my delight, deftly infused a classic Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers tune into the narrative) authored yesterday.

Keith's depiction of fantasy football-based dreams struck an unusual chord with me.  Although I very rarely remember dreams, I do remember one from last week with some vividness.

The draft itself was fun, and played out without much drama.  I was very happy with my selections, but not for long -- during the drive home from Altus Geomatics a stark realization hit me: I forgot to draft any running backs!  LOL, yes.  I know it doesn't make a lot of sense, even for a dream, but apparently I got so locked into a "Best Player Available" strategy that I completely ignored drafting an entire position!  All the way while driving home I tried to rationalize to myself that Le'Veon Bell and Devonta Freeman would be a fine RB group... "It's not as if Bishop Sankey, Toby Gerhart, Jonas Gray, James Starks, Charles Sims, Pierre Thomas and C.J. Spiller did me any favours last year," I reasoned with myself.  "I'll survive just fine."  Until it hit me.  What about bye weeks?  What about Bell's suspension??  What about the ever-ominous threat of injuries, or Freeman's inevitable platoon, or Bell's preposterous propensity for puffing tetrahydrocannabinol???!!!  Egads!

And then I woke up, consternated, trying to process what I had done.

The moral of this story, my cautionary tale, is thus:  don't forget any positions; draft diversity.

Signing off,

    oh that's nasty