MoSneaky Fantasy Football Online Magazine » Never Count Your Eggs Before They Chicken

Never Count Your Eggs Before They Chicken

14 May, 2007 Strategy, Humor / Oddity

J. Perkins Remember when you were young? You shined like the sun. I do. As another fantasy season approaches, we are reminded of those great games that we played years ago. Games that keep us coming back for more. Games that alienate us from family friends and work. Games that fascinate and infuriate to the point where you contemplate the murder of not only your opponent, but also his and perhaps sometimes your own players. I am reminded of one such contest way back in the long, long ago.

Dig if you will the picture. The year was 1993. I was in high school at the time, most likely rubbing one out to the likes of Elle McPherson, Cindy Crawford, or the entire cast of TV’s “The Golden Girls.” That Betty White sure had a shape to her, but I digress.

It was week one of the football season. Promise filled the air as kickoff approached and I was prepared for a heated contest to start the season. Our respective starting lineups looked something like this. Try not to laugh.

Jim Kelly
Rodney Hampton
Roger Craig
Willie Anderson
Andre Reed
Ethan Horton
Pete Stoyanovich
Philly

Him

Steve Young
Reggie Cobb
Brian Mitchell
Alvin Harper
Don Beebe
Ron Hall
Morten Andersen
Minnesota

I said try not to laugh, cunts! Anyway, as you can see my offense was centered around the high-powered passing attack of the Buffalo Bills and it hadn’t failed me. I built up a 21-point cushion going into the Monday night game thanks to Jim Kelly and Andre Reed’s impressive 34-point explosion (we are in a scoring only league, as things should be).

My opponents hopes and dreams lay in the Redskins/ Cowboys contest on Monday Night Football. The only thing standing between me and certain victory was the dynamic duo of Alvin Harper and Brian Mitchell. Harper was second fiddle to that crack fiend Michael Irvin and Mitchell was a career return man, who my opponent only drafted because he was recommended on a fantasy radio show. The game was a lock, or so I thought. If I had only known my demise was imminent.

To make things short, Mitchell and Harper put up 30 points and were never heard from again in the NFL. I lost the game 57-48 and proceeded to tear out my testicles with a spork. Currently I believe Mitchell performs washtub base in a band that travels under the name “Pee Trough.” I highly recommend checking them out if they’re in your area. They aren’t quite “Toto,” but then again who is? Harper has retired to a life basket weaving and horse molestation, although I can’t back that last part up with evidence.

The lesson here kids is that even the sun shines on a dogs ass. No matter how good you think your team is or how big a lead you have built, you could always get beat by players who would be better served mopping up jizz in an adult theater.