Displaced Aggression League Report — Week 8
There’s not much to say about what happened in Our Beloved League in week 8. Overall, it was the kind of scene that just leaves everyone feeling uncomfortable, like interpretive prayer-dance, or watching Glen Beck go on an extended crying jag.
Most of us chalk it up to what old-timers call the Bye-Week Blues. For the unlucky among us this translated into low scoring of the sinkhole-variety, as we watched our second- and third-string starters stumble around on the field like they’d been smoking ditchweed. But one or two matchups were still worth a look-see.
All eyes were on the newly-crowned Duestakers as their fall from 1st place-grace came at the hands of a bitter Gonk’s Revenge, who back-daggered the Duestakers as if they were a bastard-pretender to the League’s throne. Proverbs teaches us that pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall, or something along those lines. The point is, a mere taste of hubris proved devastating to the 6-1 Duestakers, who now have one more bell that they’d like to unring. And while you have to give credit where it’s due, ESPN’s projection of the Duestakers as the underdog in this matchup looks a little less impressive when you consider the fact that Revenge scored 185 more points than the Duestakers in the first seven weeks of the season.
Among the other scores that were settled on Monday night, the Blue Devils managed to expand and nail down their slight-lead over DingoBros, while Token Female dragged the Wackers back into the pit from whence they crawled, and 10th place Mental Garbage managed to eke out a breathtakingly-humiliating 1-point win over 4th place N.O. Brass, whose owner was reportedly so despondent that he holed-up in his attic with a laptop and a 12-pack of Meister Brau.
Elsewhere, in an act of sudden, arbitrary brutality rarely seen outside of correctional institutions, 7th place HellFire Club gave 5th place Dayment the kind of horrendous whooping that makes the Spanish Inquisition look like a Mormon picnic. The 2nd place Salukis inflicted similar damage on the 13th place Hammies, in a win that called to mind playground bullying and left most observers shaking their heads. The 3rd place Turduckens provoked the same reaction when they callously phoned in a cheap victory over last-place Lakeviewers.
In the end, Week 8 brings us past our regular season’s halfway point, and is as suitable a vantage point as any from which to reflect on what, if anything, all of this means. For most of us it’s simple: On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being something cool like Shark Week or a winning PowerBall ticket, and 1 being, let’s say, rectal bleeding, the 2010 fantasy football season would fall somewhere right in the middle, along with oatmeal and folk dancing.
In the words of Brother Sam, “May they slide under a gas truck and taste their own blood before they die.”
The last time I heard that line had to be 20+ years ago, sharing a pot of strong coffee with you!