Last night as the rain begin to pour down, and our friends in New York began checking themselves into Hurricanapalooza on four square, there were only two things on my mind. One being do I have to bring inside my window AC. Another, the far greater problem, how will this effect fantasy football?
After years of mocking fantasy nerds, I have stepped inside the strange world that has somehow replaced magic cards with baseball cards. Pi has been replaced with strange self-made ranking formulas. But as my new role as a math teacher this coming year, it seemed my professional responsibility to join a fantasy league.
It is around nine. I set my alarm for 7:30 this morning, to clean my house from the hurricane party in case our power goes out. I also had every intention of organizing and cleaning my room. I figured the neater it is, the less of my stuff will be ruined when this storm crashes all of our windows and floods our entire house. An hour and a half has gone by. I have edited my fantasy team countless times. My room already looks like a hurricane has hit. My AC remains in the window. I still haven’t gotten around to purchasing a flashlight. I used up all my batteries bringing my radio outside to listen to Sox games. But I don’t have enough time to fix any of these problems. Instead, I anxiously wait for 9:30, the proper hour to call my fantasy mentor.
I shouldn’t even call him. His wife is due any minute, and there may be a hurricane. There is no way he would be wasting his time with this rubbish. Maybe I will call anyway, need to see how he and his wife are doing in the storm.