The Post In Which I Turn the Blame to Where It Truly Belongs

Well, fantasy brethren, it appears as if my 2008 season has finally come to a close. Though I racked up 148 points (yes, I had Westbrook in the lineup this week) in a convincing win over the league’s first place team, the Chefs 2.0, I failed to get the help I needed to make the playoffs. A win by Mr. T’s A-Team over Marble Ryan’s Wo Ai Beijing sealed my fate.

As we’ve detailed in this space before, it’s been a tough year for the KL Crew. But there have been times when the picture was much rosier. On Oct. 22, I was 5-1-1, and in his midseason review, Mr. T gave me 4-1 odds to win the championship. From there, the wheels fell off. The Crew stumbled to a 2-5 finish.

Now, it would be one thing if I’d just totally wrecked my draft and had a terrible team from the start, or if I’d just been one of those hard-luck teams that always seems to play the week’s high scorer. My schedule was tough, sure, and I did have some bad luck — ahem, Plaxico Burress — but it wasn’t the problem.

No, my friends: I was the problem. To quote Herm Edwards — and, really, there are only a few moments in life that can’t be explained with a Herm Edwards quote — “I did a bad job. I did a bad job preparing this football team. Terrible job! I DID A BAD JOB!!!”

Looking back, it’s easy to see where things went wrong.

1) I failed to trade Ronnie Brown after his 5-TD explosion against the Patriots in Week 3, deciding that with Ryan Grant’s hamstring, Chris Johnson’s timeshare, and Westbrook’s durability issues, I’d be better served by having depth.

2) I failed to adjust my roster for my Week 9 game against Cousin Bowser, leaving Jake Delhomme in as a starter even though the Panthers were on the bye. If I’d started my backup, Gus Frerotte, I would’ve won by 1 point.

3) Sitting on the couch with a laptop on Thanksgiving, I came across this piece by Stephania Bell and decide to bench Brian Westbrook for the Eagles’ Thursday night game against the Cardinals. If I’d started him, I would’ve won. Fuck you, Starphania.

But it’s all over now, for good this time, and I feel relieved. This Sunday, I’ll be able to watch the games for their pure entertainment value and not have to worry about how my team is performing. I’ll be able to watch every Jay Cutler deep ball and not have to worry that Eddie Royal, and not Brandon Marshall, will be on the end of it. I won’t have to worry about which kicker to pick up off of waivers or who my opponent has in the Monday night game. Best of all, I’ll no longer have to root for Matt Cassel.

So that’s it for my team and, for the year, this column. Don’t feel bad for me, for I am going to a better place – one where I can enjoy football as it is meant to be enjoyed. I’ll also be drunk off my ass to numb myself from the pain.

Until next year.