Twas the night before draftsmas and all through the city, women were scrambling to make their rosters less shitty/ The fantasy football magazines were flagged and tagged with great care, knowing that 90 seconds gives them no time to spare/ Running backs were listed by total rushing yards, you want Chris Johnson, but at pick #10, it’s not in the cards.
It was the night before our fantasy draft and I was as giddy as a schoolgirl. I don’t even care that I have the 10th pick out of 14. I don’t care that about a bizillion of the girls who I started out with have dropped out. I could care less that no one seems to know what they’re doing and that I made a total sucker side bet with my friend Norm on Saturday. It was the beginning of the season and I couldn’t be happier.