My fantasy football team, Benedict the Yellow, pulled through a tough match up last night to win our league for the season. Thank you. I know, it was an impressive performance, probably made possible by the imposing picture of Ben that I have as my team's icon on Yahoo.
What I really want to talk about with this post, though, is my husband and fantasy football. I have been merciful all season long, choosing not to blog about the truly ridiculous things Austin says about it. But as the newly crowned winner of our fantasy football league, I think it's time for that to change.
In fantasy football, there is something called "smack talk" in which you apparently try to impersonate an ego-inflated NFL player and post insulting comments for all your other friends in the league. I am pretty sure this is Austin's favorite part of fantasy football, or at least the part that he is best at.
Here are some of his smack talk season highlights:
"John, does he have compromising pictures of you or something? How could you lose to someone who started 2 people who didn't even play?"
"No playoffs for you, husky rusky."
"Fantasy football is not supposed to bring a marriage together." (This he actually told me in bed one night instead of posting it on the league message board.)
"8-2, son." (In response to someone pointing out that he had just gotten lucky being in first place at that point as his actual number of points scored was 6th out of 8 in the league.)
"You better worry about even making the playoffs first. On an unrelated note, did everyone see that i already clinched a spot?"
When a good friend failed to make the playoffs like Austin did (top 4 spots) he rubbed it in, saying, "Great job on securing the 5th seed in the playoffs. I look forward to playing you. . ."
And of course today he tried to rob me of my hard earned victory, saying, "I taught her everything she knows." That is, of course, blatantly false--he's so competitive he has not offered me a word of help all season long!
But the very worst thing he said all season was the week we had Molly and we happened to play each other. While we were in the hospital his friend posted "what are the ethics about beating a women about to have your baby? Should you throw the game? Just a thought." Austin replied, "if she had bore me a son, I would have let her win."
Now do you see what I live with???!!! :)
Of course, the one redeeming factor of Austin's ridiculous bravado is that everyone in the league was glad when I soundly stomped him last week and went on to win it all this week. After all, they figured, who better to rub his loss in but me?
