Fantasy Football champ

My sister (commissioner) pressured/invited me to write a speech to our fantasy league pronouncing myself champion this year. Hooray for me. Here’s what I went with. I gave myself a 5 minute limit for thinking about it:

We went out there every week and gave it 110 percent. The Lord guided our accumulation of fantasy points, privileging as He does such monumentally important human affairs. He knows how meaningful it is for us to draft avatars of celebrities making ungodly amounts of money. We exert our cute sense of control over their business venture by pretending that we have any say in the outcome of their efforts.

But all for the love of the game. For the integrity of the thing. For our mommas. And sometimes for our daddies. It’s critical that we condescend to our mommas first. Without them, we wouldn’t be the men that we are today. Or women. Or gender neutral/fluid…beings. Whatever identity you choose within that particular social construct, thank your momma for making you it.

There were times out there on that virtual battlefield that we didn’t think we’d make it, but like the very-real-not-metaphorical soldiers that we so clearly are, we persevered, and victory was ours. The glory of God was ours. All the gifts of heaven bestowed upon us for our faith. Every click of our mouse as we made last-minute changes to our roster was channeling His strength. Waiver wire pick-ups? His wisdom. Draft busts? His whim. Chip Kelly? You know what, I don’t know how he fits into God’s plans. He’s clearly a tool of the Devil.

So as we head off into the offseason, remember that at the end of the day, it is what it is. Which, besides being a redundant linguistic construction and an ontologically self-serving statement, is perhaps the greatest lesson we will ever know. And thank God that we have our beloved athletes to remind of us of this humble truth. It is what it is indeed.

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