I Blinked, and Eight Years Went By

 

Yesterday, I was on a college campus for the first time in a few years to visit my girlfriend Krista's daughter, Sarah. She's a freshman at App State, and living in a freshman dorm as most of us did together.

It's a living-learning community not unlike Cornerstone. I mounted Sarah's TV for her, hung a couple photos (as 26-year-old stepdads do) and met her roommate. As I left, I realize this was the first time that I felt like a visitor on a college campus. Not just as someone who didn't go to that school, but someone who didn't belong there.

At some point I stopped operating exclusively as the double-bottle swigging neanderthal that stayed up until 1 am each night playing Playstation, blasting Da Baby in my one bedroom apartment. Rest assured I still have a piece of that in me, and I save it up for the boys and for the Boom table.

This league has become much more than fantasy football; it's a road that continues to be paved each year as we kick the season off with the draft, and continue until a champion is crowned. It has seen groupchats across three forums (Facebook, GroupMe and now iMessage), newsletters, heated conference calls on trades, a change in commissioner, press conferences, podcasts, signed commissioner statements, two weddings, one deployment, one summit with a second sub-summit, and what will soon be eight offline drafts.

Throughout those eight years, we have seen our league members transfer colleges, change majors, chase their goals, move, pass massive stress-inducing tests, get deployed, fail at their goal, continue to work until they reach their goal, change their career, get burnt out at work, get fired, get a promotion, marry their girlfriend, buy a house, be put out of work because of a pandemic, and just keep fucking going.

I can only speak for myself, but I know the reason why I care about this league the way I do has shifted from being consumed with winning (don't get me wrong, I still am) and besting whoever I match up against that week, to staying invested because the league gives us a reason to gather at least once each year, if not in person then virtually. 

I watch the waiver wire just because I know if I don't, Rowdy Rhinos will ram the Chiefs third string RB right up my ass like a Blacked scene.

It is a symbol of where we started, where we are now and the fact that everyone allots those couple hours (if not the whole weekend) with no money on at stake shows we want it to continue. Show me another league that will start their draft at 12:30 am for their deployed league member.

The league gives us a reason for Kev to text our group when he buys a house, when Jacques gets new cornhole boards, when Steve gets a second 25 pound weight, when Tyler's coming home. Staying in touch can be difficult, but Sundays (and who we play) give us that extra nudge to keep making the effort.

Missing three league members for the in-person draft will be a new high (or low) but I don't think it's due to lack of interest. If it was, I wouldn't be taking the time to write this. I'm pissed it's worked out this way, selfishly I feel cheated, I feel bamboozled, hoodwinked, and led astray by 2020. But I know the gents who are missing all have their reasons (yeah Tyler's trooping, I know) and don't take the decision lightly.

I know that House of LeLiquor will host as dynamic a draft as we've had in this league history. I can't wait to be there, and to share in all of its glory with my boys, virtual and in-person.

I used to think the old dudes who would gather and take a group photo at the end were lame as shit. Now, I get it. And I can't wait to have another draft with all eight of us to follow up this old-ass photo of me in slacks holding Kev's PJ and a peace sign.