Fantasy Football

Finally back in Columbus, trying to recover from the experience that is spending 2,200 miles in a Greyhound. Trust me, it is no easy feat. Anyhow, since all of our fantasy teams gargle balls and we didn’t follow any of it this weekend while we were across the country for football (albeit college), we thought we’d go a little off the cuff and recap some thoughts from the trip.

First off, if you are looking for current fantasy advice, we really don’t have any. We were driving all day the past two Sundays and the only game we made a point to watch was the Monday nighter between the Cowboys and Eagles. We’ll try to get caught up this week with some recent developments. Namely several teams with sudden quarterback issues.

In regards to our trip however, we will say that after watching USC pummel the Christ out of OSU, and Georgia do the same to Arizona State, we advise that in your next keeper draft you should draft Chris Wells (his absence was more palpable than his presence could have ever been), Terrell Pryor (he’s not Vince Young), Joe McKnight, Patrick Turner, Knowshon Moreno and AJ Green.

I don’t give a shit how premature it may seem. Don’t ask questions, don’t even bother looking any of these players up if you do not watch college football, just do what we say and for once you won’t regret it.

-Also on the football end of things, hitting 7 of 8 games in a $12 eight team parlay is about the worst thing that can happen to someone while in Vegas. You have to be incredibly lucky to hit 7 of 8, and knowing that not only did you do just that, but you needlessly tacked on an eighth game and that cost you any payout (much less a $2,200 one), well, lets just say that the only game I won at was Hold ‘em.

-Speaking of Vegas, the place is overran with Europeans these days taking advantage of the weak dollar. I for one welcome our brethren from across the pond, but it seemed like any time I brought this up they managed to take offense on some level or another like they thought I was angry with the situation; when actually I thought I was paying them a compliment. Some bridges just can’t be mended, I guess.

-On the flip side, I’m pretty sure every American woman I talked to in that city was a call girl of some sort. Maybe I was going to the wrong places or something, I don’t know, but this seems to be the effect of a relatively weak currency, the place toting said currency is flooded with foreign tourists and a healthy percentage of the native women start working the corner. Basically, Las Vegas is now Brazil.

-In short, I think NFL quarterbacks should be the happiest people on the face of the Earth that their isn’t a team in Vegas. You already need all your faculties (understatement) to play that position to the point that only about four or five quarterbacks are reliable on a weekly basis. Can you imagine Eli Manning having the game he had yesterday if he was coming off an all night blackjack bender at the Palms? Or worse yet, Matt Leinart? I suppose we are getting ahead of ourselves, before you can tank a game you have to be invited to play in it.

-Speaking of Trojans, as an OSU fan we couldn’t have been happier to be cooped up in Venice Beach after the drubbing that our Buckeyes took. Why is that you ask? Mainly because football doesn’t exist in Venice. Basketball does, football doesn’t. Generally when you go to a city for a nationally televised football game, like, say, OSU vs. USC, and people ask you where you are from and you reply “Ohio” and they retort, “Oh, what’re you here for?” and you say “the game”, it is usually implied that you are talking about the aforementioned match-up. But in Venice you get a “Oh, the UCLA game?” response, and nothing warms your heart more after watching your team get trounced and publicly humiliated (yet again) on national television.

Yes, basketball is alive and well on Venice Beach, there were even some drunk fucking brats from the midwest playing at 3am. Or so I heard.

-And finally, as great as the ASU coeds are, they really have nothing on the food served in the stadium. Oh dear lord. We don’t know if it was the fact that we hadn’t eaten in the past day (literally), or the sun was particularly draining (we were frightened to drink alcohol) or if the food was really all that we are making it. Forget the coeds, I want to roll around naked in a bed with about four dozen of their chicken wings, Indecent Proposal style. Wait, what?

Anyhow, we’ll get back to normalcy later this week. Our neighbors can still hear our screams that linger from the Greyhound ride.