Yahoo just sent me some mail: “Ready to play fantasy football?”
This just shows how little Yahoo knows me. OF COURSE I am ready to play fantasy football. If nine of you are, too, we’ll start a league—email me. The fantasy baseball league, Ye Olde Bystandere League, is going fine, which is to say: there have been no murders.
So: not only am I ready to play fantasy football, I’m damn near ready to play the real thing. After all, in 2017 a 55-year-old played Division I college, and I’m only 54! I might loiter around the Rams training camp to, y’know, see what happens next.
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ANNOUNCER: Second and four from the twenty-seven. Hand off to Johnson, tries the left side.
Still trying.
Does anybody see my coffee?
Still trying.
The referee blows the play dead. Was there a flag, Phil?
COLOR MAN: No, Jim, everybody was just winded.
ANNOUNCER: Johnson is slow getting up...He’s motioning to the bench.
COLOR MAN: Low blood sugar. The trainer’s bringing out a Werther’s.
ANNOUNCER: He better suck quickly, with 1:57 left. Still knotted at zero.
COLOR: You know, Johnson reminds me a little of Ickey Woods.
ANNOUNCER: From the 80s…
COLOR: Oh God no. From last week. He’s really well for himself.
ANNOUNCER: You could say that about the entire Bengals offense. What they’ve lost in speed and flexibility is more than made up by judgment and experience.
COLOR: Goodell was a genius to do it. ‘Fifty and up,’ he said. Concussed, not concussed, who can tell? And the fans love it. Gives ‘em a sense of possibility.
ANNOUNCER: And you can always run the game at 1.5x if you want the old excitement.
COLOR: There’s the occasional slip-and-fall, but these middle-aged players, they appreciate it more.
ANNOUNCER: On third and six, you’d expect a pass to the tight end, but his gout flared just after halftime…Darger stands up behind center, just to stretch his back a little…He goes back to pass, and fires a two-yard completion to Gilbert. Gilbert rumbles forward in the ensuing confusion, and it’s first and ten at the 21!
COLOR: That was six feet of frozen rope.
ANNOUNCER: And this 59-year-old rookie wideout is amazing. His near-vision is shot, so he listens for the pass to get close, then just grabs.
COLOR: I had an old dog like that. He’s dead now.
ANNOUNCER: Late flag. This game has turned really chippy.
COLOR: Well, yeah. It was supposed to be over by four, five at the latest. Everybody’s starving.
REFERREE: Defense number 57, insinuating erectile dysfunction.
COLOR: Jarvarious has been chirping all game. You think they’d be mature, but…
ANNOUNCER: A really costly penalty. They’re right on the red line, where the kicker can reach the uprights without invalidating his waiver. The field goal unit is coming on…
COLOR: Still could be tough. Darcy was questionable all week with sciatica.
ANNOUNCER: The Ravens are going to make Darcy really think about those shooting pains in his hips, thighs and buttocks.
COLOR: These guys are gladiators, Jim. Like, 2000 years old.
ANNOUNCER: This bathroom break is sponsored by zurfastrinil, proven to reverse BPH in less than half the time of conventional treatment. You tried that stuff?
COLOR: I should get some. The last movie I saw all the way through was Pretty in Pink.
ANNOUNCER: Cincy lines up for the field goal. Ten seconds left…Winner goes to the playoffs, loser goes to the dermatologist–
COLOR: These bright stadium lights, melanoma’s nothing to–oh, what the heck is this? Get off the field you jerk, we wanna go eat dinner!
ANNOUNCER: We can’t show you what’s going on, but there’s a fan on the field. He’s taken the ball. He’s shirtless, just running around, doing figure-eights. A few players are chasing him.
COLOR: Don’t hurt yourself, guys.
ANNOUNCER: The fan has just drop-kicked the ball through the uprights. Now he’s running up to all the players and stealing their towels. He’s snapping them with them.
COLOR: I’m all for high spirits, but this is totally disrespectful.
ANNOUNCER: All I can say is: oh my achin’ nuts.
