You know what’s crazy. I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
Distracted Driving.
Drunk Driving.
And now you can add Drafting and Driving.
That’s right, Drafting and Driving.
Because of fantasy football and smart phone technology, it is now possible to drive and draft a fantasy football team at 55 mph.
Is this recommended?
NO.
Is this safe?
Are you freaking kidding me?
Yet, this is the position I find myself in.
I could have auto drafted my team Sunday.
But that felt like waving a white flag.
I could have been rude and been more than an hour late to my appointment.
I just couldn’t be late for this appointment.
Instead I decided to go buck ass wild.
I threw caution to the wind and rolled the dice.
I am not proud of my actions.
I was dumber than an 8th grader at a Taylor Swift concert.
And at the end of the day?
I hate my team.
And I am an idiot for possibly putting lives at risk.
So there I am iphone in hand, trying to read print that would make an owl squint.
I am driving slowly, perhaps too slowly.
I am watching players go off the board on the tiny display screen.
Peyton Manning. Gone.
Demarco Murray. Gone.
Who is up?
When do I draft?
I have no idea and I’m feeling draft panic.
Then, suddenly it’s my turn.
ESPN announces your turn like a coronation.
My smart phone explodes with excitement: DA LEE DA LEE!
And then I see a big 60 second icon ticking backward.
I’m on the clock.
Meanwhile, an SUV is coming up on me fast.
Is that green light about to turn yellow?
I check a side street where church traffic is starting to merge onto the four lane.
Stay put church people. Please stay put.
I look at my phone.
Suddenly there is a lot going on.
My phone is recommending some obscure Tight End.
AAARRRGGTHHH
:48 seconds and counting.
I’m panicking but trying not to panic.
That’s like falling but trying not to hit the ground too hard.
I already own Gronk, arguably the best Tight End in the game.
I don’t need another tight end; not in round 4.
Calm down, and think.
:44 seconds.
I pass through an intersection.
I watch as on coming traffic gets the green left turn arrow as I move by.
Be careful, I think to myself.
I glance down and try to quickly find a button on my phone the size of Dick Cheney’s heart.
I see a cab. Stay in your lane.
I see the clock.
41 seconds and counting backward.
I am in my lane.
OK, drive safe, I say aloud to no one.
Man, I need a quarterback, I think to myself.
I hit the best player available button.
Tom Brady is available.
SSPND?
What the hell is that?
OMG.
He’s facing a four game suspension.
DEFLATE GATE!!!
37 seconds.
I need a QB who starts week 1, not a pretty boy who looks bad in a federal court renderings.
I pull up to a red light.
I am glad not to be moving.
But only 27 seconds to go.
I scroll down the list.
Cam Newton?
No.
His best wideout is toast.
18 seconds.
An SUV pulls beside me.
The mother in the passenger seat stares at me.
She probably just taught a bible class and now she is peering at me with holier than thou daggers.
“You see that man over there,” I imagine she says to her children in the back seat of her Cadillac Escalade. “He is a bad man. He is texting and driving and he is a menace.”
“I’m Drafting lady,” I want to scream. “Compared to distracted driving, I’m a molotov cocktail. I’m a prison riot of stupid over here compared to texting and driving. I am the anti-christ of distracted driving! I need a priest and an exorcism at the next stop sign! Wanna dance with me, lady. I’m sponsored by ESPN”
I stare at my phone.
I’m running out of time.
Drafting and Driving.
What a pitiful moment in my life. Yet here I am.
The only way I could make this worse is if I was tilting back a bottle of Jack Daniels and tossing dollar bills to pole dancers in the back seat.
I feel the nasty glare of the Bible thumping mom beside me.
Suddenly a nasty siren sounds.
WAAAAHHHHH!
I look around for the police.
I don’t see anything.
I stare at my phone.
It’s red and pulsing and blinking.
10-9-8-7…
I have run out of time.
The traffic light turns green.
HONK
WAAAAHHHHH
So much crazy energy in my car.
I’m not clear what’s happening.
5-4-3-2
I push the button that says Select.
I have given up, waved the fantasy football white flag.
Tom Brady is now on my team.
I accelerate and grimace.
I am drafting players who will start the 1st week either in the owner’s box or in jail.
Meanwhile I am a menace to society and embarrassed.
I should turn myself in to the police.
Instead I will simply forfeit all my games and learn a valuable lesson.
Don’t ever draft and drive again.
Life’s Crazy™