The "Moment"
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A fantasy addict comes face to face with a lost season, and instead gets the ride of his life:...
It is not often that I am living it up on a Monday night watching very large adult males smash into each other at high speeds that Kelly Clarkson come to mind, but tonight she did. The moment came with 1:06 left in the 2nd quarter when Marques Colston—the most gifted WR in the history of the NFL—leapt through the Atlanta…err…Georgia Dome night and hauled in a TD reception thrown from the hand of the Mole King—otherwise known as Drew Brees—and landed as gently as a first kiss (that may be the only time that simile has ever and will ever be used in a sports article of any kind, but it makes sense later. I promise.) on the artificial turf.
My Sunday morning had started so well, with the Packers tearing apart my beloved Raiders (you see where my priorities lie now) and my mid-season acquisition of Jason Witten paying huge dividends. Meanwhile, Fatty, my opponent for the week and a two-time champion in our keeper league stumbled out of the gate, with Brian Westbrook keeping his hopes alive while Brandon Jacobs fumbled, Torry Holt was mediocre, and Mason Crosby missed 4-point field goals. I was like a kid in a candy store, awaiting my massive jawbreaker (clearly the best candy in a candy store) named Adrian Peterson to lift my team to victory while plowing through the 49ers defense for what I predicted would be 150 yards and 2 TDs (It would have been unprofessional to guess 200 ad 3TDs, but it was in the back of my mind). In the words of the aforementioned Mrs. Clarkson and her “moment”:
What if I told you it was all meant to be? Would you believe me, would you agree? Then it happened. And by “it” I mean Tom Brady, the sole destroyer of fantasy opponents and someone who will likely win 75% of fantasy owners’ championships single-handedly. Last night as I watched my fantasy playoff hopes slowly slip down the drain with every Tom Brady pass (damn it! Run the $%@&ing ball!), every Vikings turnover, and every negative yardage carry from All Day, previous seasons of losing to Fatty and others in my league flashed through my head.
It’s almost that feeling that we’ve met before… Needless to say, All Day was becoming my heartbreaker—read nightmare—and certainly not my jawbreaker. And so, with the score at 127.95 to 59.2 and time dwindling I needed a spark of hope. The 49ers began to drive down the field, threatening 10 points of Fatty’s in both yardage (we get 5 bonus points for keeping teams under 300 yards) and points (5 bonus points for between 1 and 9 points allowed) and I thought my luck might turn. But it was the 49ers and another fumble (2 points to Fatty!) tarnished my hopes. All of a sudden, I noticed on the top of my computer screen the flashing “Warner to Fitzgerald for 13 yards.” What the hell? I thought, “they have a banged-up Larry Fitz in the game down 21 with under 5 minutes to play?” Before I could finish the thought: “Warner to Fitzgerald for 11 yards.” I switched over to Cardinals game, when all of a sudden: “Warner to Fitzgerald 11 yards.” Touchdown! I had suddenly gained 9.5 fantasy points in the span of 45 seconds. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a flickering light from some Shimmering object in the mirror.
Everything changes, but beauty remains Something so tender, I can’t explain After Sunday’s late games, with Fatty’s team all played out, the score stood at 129.95 to 68.7. Three players left to go—Joseph Addai, Drew Brees, and Marques Colston. Not an insurmountable lead, but difficult considering the Ravens were giving up 2.8 yards/carry heading into Sunday night’s game. Then the game started and magic happened. Manning to some dude I’ve never seen before, who should make it to the end zone, but his knee hits down as he stretches. First and goal at the 1. Addai TD. Interception. In my mind I was literally thinking, “What if Peyton Manning dumps it to Addai and he scores here, then it would be closer.” Done and done. Interception, run back to the 11. Literally though, hand it off to Addai, he will take it in. Done and done. All of a sudden, Addai had 26.1 fantasy points, despite being held to a 2.5 YPC average, Jim Sorgi was in the game, and Kelly Clarkson was once again, invading my thoughts:
Well I may be dreaming but ‘til I awake. Can we make the dream last forever? Earlier today I waited for the clock to strike 5 pm, so that I could head home and prepare for the most important fantasy game of my life. With the score 129.95 to 95.1, I would need a solid but not spectacular game from both Brees and Colston. If you know me, you know I am enthusiastic. I was through the friggin’ roof tonight, as I anticipated the deciding game in my fantasy career to this day. And it started off slow as balls, with two meaningless drives and Brees with .8 FP and Colston with none. But that shimmer of hope that had flickered with Fitzgerald and been fanned by Addai was burning, and the mantra returned:
What if I told you it was all meant to be? Would you believe me, would you agree? Brees lead a 99-yard drive with all of the yards being his. TD to Patten. Another drive down the field, only to be interrupted by potential goat #1 Eric Johnson (who will never play another fantasy game for me. Ever). Still, Brees was racking up yardage and had hit Colston on a 30-yard pass down the middle of the field. Slowly the score crept up and I was within 13 points. Brees led the Saints down the field and with words I will never forget, Ron Jaworski—the phenomenal, multi-dimensional genius of an announcer—said, “The Saints are spreading the field, which should open up the middle of the field for Brees.” My adrenaline was kicking, my heart was beating, and I thought, this is “the Sign” that Ace and Base sang of so long ago. Which is when Kelly Clarkson entered my life, now and forever. Colston lined up in the slot, Brees took the snap, dropped back, looked right down the center of the field and threw a ball where only a 6’5" receiver could catch it. TOUCHDOWN! Brees to Colston. My throat got tight, I leapt into the air, and the sweet voice of Kelly Clarkson swept me off my feet:
I’m crazy when I tell your love is here and now. A Moment like this. Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this. I cant believe its happening to me. Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this. My name is The Shimmering T. The T stands for Testicle, because mine are made of solid gold. I just won the biggest fantasy football game of my life. And it made me think of Kelly Clarkson.
- Shimmering T. at Flea Fanatics
(PS. I would like to make it know that I looked up the lyrics to this song, and did not know them by heart. I swear.)
