Week 13: In Memoriam

For six men, this week is just about seeding. Will I get the bye? Who will I be playing next week in the playoffs? For six men, fantasy life continues on for at least another two or three weeks. For the other six men in our league, they go into this coming weekend with hopelessness and bewilderment. They spent the last four months strategizing mock drafts, identifying FAAB budgets, talking shit, and making trades; all with the goal of making the playoffs and getting a shot at the 2024 JNIC FFL Championship. But each year, only half of those who embark on this journey make it into that faired tournament of contenders. It’s a tough, painstaking marathon - usually taking 3 and a half months. But this year, we didn’t need this last week to establish the six remaining owners. The playoffs are set with owners Will, Mel, Steve, Zach, Tone, and Dre making the final cut. Interestingly enough, all four “Spartans” who started 2-0 made the playoffs (Ser Will the Merciless, Lord Davidson the Decorated, Prince Mel the Sorcerer, and Ser Dre the Dreadful). Only one 1-1 team (Ser Stephen, Barterer of Trades) and one 0-2 team (Lord Robert Anthony, Lord of Yesteryear, and Warden of Summit’s Peak) made it to the postseason. The others are as good as dead. We probably won’t hear much from them moving forward in the chat… well maybe Dunc, but everyone else will imperceptibly start to tap out of the fantasy chat commentary.

And so, today, I’d like to recognize these men one last time. They fought hard and died on the battlefield - some after a valiant effort of weekly struggles. Others embarrassed themselves in combat. Let us look back at their seasons and give them the flowers (and laughs) that they have earned and deserve.

It was a brutal year for Kenny from the jump. You know those horror movies where the main character keeps stumbling into the worst possible decisions, even though you’re screaming at the screen? That was Kenny’s draft. Brandon Aiyuk for $31? Looked like a savvy breakout bet until... cue injury bug. Christian Kirk (K1 for $12) was a classic “value pick” that ended up being a value for opposing defenses. And then there’s Jaylen Waddle. A cool $43 for a guy who’s currently ranked as WR41. WR41! That’s the same neighborhood as Josh Downs and Wandale Robinson. Waddle has less fantasy points than Chris Godwin and Stefon Diggs, and they’ve been on IR since week 7. If Kenny had just lit those $43 on fire, at least he’d have been warm.

But here’s where I give Ken Dog his due. Most guys would have thrown in the towel (like Sherv did), rage-dropped their whole roster, and started looking to make “Keeper Trades” back in early November. Not Kenny. He rolled up his sleeves, hit the waiver wire, made trades, and somehow pieced together a team that could at least keep the lights on. For a guy whose WR core turned into a hospital wing, that’s no small feat.

Still, the fantasy gods are cruel, and the karma of his draft-day sins caught up with him. Kenny finished one win short. And just like that, another year passes, and our chipless friend enters Year 15 still chasing the elusive glory of a JNIC Championship. Maybe next year is the year... or maybe Kenny just needs to draft fewer receivers with the durability of a paper straw. Either way, he’s our lovable loser, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Damn, Zayn, you really Zayn’d us this year, huh? I mean, it’s almost like you showed up to the draft just to lull us all into a false sense of security. I remember you sulking around after the draft—just a sad little cloud following you everywhere. I didn’t know whether to give you a pep talk or call a therapist. And honestly, maybe that was the play all along! Turn yourself into the league’s Eeyore, then Zayn us all when we least expect it. After all, your name’s a verb now. “Moss’d ‘eem… Zayn’d ‘eem…” It’s so powerful that we’ve all tried to pull it off at least once this season. The irony? This time it backfired on you.

Let’s talk about the draft. I’m sure you came in with a plan. And I get it; You’ve got Jordan Love for $6 and another $194 in cash to work with. A great start! But then… $70 for Tyreek? $46 for Kenneth Walker? $45 for Cooper Kupp? By the time you finished that spending spree, you were left with $33 and a ton of questions. By the end of the draft, your strategy turned into “I’m either winning this league or crashing this car into a telephone pole.”

And then the season started, and boom! Love goes down Week 1. Kupp’s out Week 2. Tua gets his bell rung, and suddenly Tyreek’s catching passes from the Skylar Thompson Carnival of Sadness. It’s like the football gods looked at your roster and said, “Let’s see how much we can break this guy before he quits.”

But here’s the thing, Zayn—you didn’t quit. You’re like that captain who goes down with the ship, except instead of violins playing, it’s just you holding onto Tyreek Hill like he’s a life raft. You could’ve traded him for some depth, maybe salvaged your season, but no! You said, “Screw that. I’m riding this out.” It’s admirable… in a stubborn, “Are you serious right now?” kind of way.

So yeah, you made your bed, Zayn. And it’s one of those cheap motel beds, the kind with springs poking out and bedbugs crawling everywhere. But hey, you’re lying in it, and you’ve got my respect for that. Sort of. More power to you, man. See ya next year!

This year felt like vintage 1960’s racial oppression, didn’t it, C? You showed up early, punched the clock, and put in the work. You drafted well, hustled on the waiver wire, and even pulled off the mythical midseason trade. You weren’t just good—you were better than everyone else. First in total points! That’s like leading the march from Selma to Montgomery—exhausting, inspiring, and downright heroic.

And yet, somehow, the league treated you like you were stuck in the back of the fantasy football bus. Points leader but no playoffs? It’s fantasy football’s equivalent of "Separate but Equal." Sure, you got to play, but your season still ended in the consolation bracket. I checked the league history books, and this is only the second time in 14 years this travesty has happened. The first? Zayn in 2022. So at least you’ve got company in the "tragically unlucky" club—like sharing a cell with John Lewis, except instead of dignity and civil rights, you’ve got Dak Prescott and a burning sense of injustice.

Speaking of Dak, can we talk about that $20 bid? I’ll admit it; I was the one who baited you into that one. A classic Larry David move on my part: just enough meddling to ruin your day but not so much that I look guilty. And of course, Sherv comes out of nowhere with his $20 bid for Lamar, stealing your QB1 dream like some fantasy-football Bull Connor, holding you back when it mattered most.

So now, the big question: Who do you blame? Me? Sherv? Or yourself? Do you channel Dr. King and turn your cheek to the shit talk that comes your way? Or do you fight like Brother Malcolm? Whatever you choose, I know you’ll come back stronger, with a fire in your belly to make sure this never happens again.

You fought the good fight, man. You deserve better. Now grab a metaphorical chair at the lunch counter, stare down the injustice, and plot your revenge for next season. Well done. See ya around.

You’re one of one Duncan. There’s no one else like you in this league. At least you can walk away this season with that. Because honestly, you’ve got nothing else to hold on to. At least not this year. It wasn’t an experience you’ve dealt with in the past. Kudos to you, but you’ve consistently made the playoffs since your return in 2019. So I was interested to see how you’d respond to degradation. And you handled it exactly how I thought you would. It didn’t stop you from talking shit one bit. It takes a lot of audacity to be in 11th place and tell someone in the playoff picture that they suck and you’re better than them. But you managed to do it with Dre week after week. I can recall waking up some mornings or coming back to my phone after a back to back meeting and seeing 200+ messages between you and Dre and just chuckling before I’d put a “Busy” marker on my work calendar for the next 30 minutes so I could catch up in the group chat. Priorities, am I right?

But yea, you’re one of a kind Dunc. You’re like Jameis Winston in a sense. This man with throw a pick-6 and on the very next possession throw a bullet into triple coverage. It’s like he totally forgets the previous drive. He has no recollection of it. It’s the same with you. I once saw you lose your matchup by Sunday afternoon, but talk shit on Sunday night to Dre after he then lost his matchup. That, my friend, is Winston-esque. I can’t even be mad at you for it. It’s like, I don’t even root for you to lose anymore. Because now I see, it won’t shut you up either way. You’re the exact same shit talker when you’re down as you are when it’s up. I’ve almost come to respect it.

I’m glad to see you hit rock bottom though. Bout damn time. You not nice anyway. See ya next year, bum!

It’s getting to a place where I’m actually rooting for you Lance. And I root for no one in this fantasy life of ours. I wish despair for all 11 of my foes. But you, there’s a small ounce that wants to see you get far. Not as far as me, but far enough to where you can gain a sense of hope. As goal worth striving for. But alas, the year has once again come and gone and we memorialize you yet again. This wasn’t your year L. I thought you might’ve had a shot. Your draft put you in the runnings of a formidable run, as long as CMC gave you most of the season. I remember listening to podcasts over the summer. No one was worried that CMC would miss games. They assumed he was being held out of preseason so he would be 100% fresh by the start of week 1. It was a surprise to all of us to hear that he wouldn’t be suiting up week 1. Little did we know that they would slow-walk his come back each week with another “he’s almost ready.” Yall ever hear Mel back in the day telling a chick on the phone that he’s only five minutes away. Meanwhile, he’s literally in another state? That’s how this felt. Each week was a new excuse til finally, it was announced that CMC was headed to Germany for a procedure. I knew it was a wrap at that moment. Couple that with the fact that Lance’s other keeper, CJ Stroud, hasn’t played up to his performance during his rookie year, and you’ve got a disaster. season ahead. It’s all good Lance, each year is a brand new opportunity. And yours will start this week. Best of luck to you in the offseason. See you at the draft, wherever it may be.

Sherva, if anyone deserves to be sitting at the bottom of the barrel, it’s you. What an absolutely bizarre, borderline hilarious season you’ve had. Let’s start at the beginning: you didn’t show up to the draft. Fine. Happens to the best of us. But then you one-upped yourself by literally falling asleep during the draft. Think about that for a second—asleep. During the draft. You weren’t just punting your season; you were punting it while catching Zs. It’s worth an ESPN 30-for-30.

When you woke up, though, it got even weirder. You somehow decided that drafting not one, but two top-10 quarterbacks—Mahomes and Lamar—was a genius idea. $40 combined. On QBs. In a league where you only start one. That’s not just bad strategy, that’s no strategy. But instead of pivoting, admitting the mistake, and trading one of them for a usable piece, you doubled down and kept both guys on your roster all season. “This is gonna pay off for me in the long run.” You remember saying that to me on the phone after the draft? Spoiler: it didn’t pay off.

Then there was your brilliant idea to essentially recreate the Kansas City Chiefs on your roster. Look, I respect the Chiefs as much as anyone. Mahomes is a magician, Kelce’s unstoppable, Andy Reid’s a genius. But in fantasy? Stacking the whole damn team? What were you thinking? One day, you’re going to have to walk us through your draft philosophy—if it even exists. Because right now, it feels like your approach is “close your eyes, spin the wheel, and pray.”

And let’s talk about your keepers: Breece Hall and Raheem Mostert. On paper, a nice foundation. In practice? A disaster. Breece was fine—RB12—but nowhere near what you needed. Mostert? RB54. I mean, that’s barely better than me if I strapped on pads and tried to run between the tackles.

Your team was doomed from the start, and honestly, it showed. It’s like your season was the fantasy football equivalent of a sitcom character spilling coffee on themselves before a big meeting. Sloppy, painful, and completely avoidable. Here’s my advice: wash this season off like a bad breakup, get a haircut, show up to the draft next year awake, and maybe—just maybe—leave the entire Chiefs offense at Arrowhead.

Nobody has confidence in you right now. Not the league, not your roster, and I’m not even sure you do. But hey, I’m rooting for you. Not because I think you’ll succeed, but because the league is just more fun when you’re at least pretending to be competent. Good luck next season. We’ll see if you crash out again. My money says you will.