Week 5 Write-up by Cooper Station (’25-’26)

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As an ongoing experiment this year in Big League Fantasy Football, the weekly write-ups will be authored courtesy of various members of the League. If you would like to contribute a post, let Turner know.

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Written by Cooper Station

It’s Sunday morning. You’re still reminiscing on an electric TNF game, pulse still recovering from some thrilling underdog Ws on college football Saturday, and it’s time to settle in for the Sunday Slate. You even went to bed early and set your alarm so you could be awake and present for the 9:30AM EST London Game. You take a deep whiff of your Sunday coffee, sigh away any hints of Sunday Scaries, and hit the power button on your TV.

“Oh good you’re awake, Dad! I need your help with this calculus homework.” You hear from the other room. “I’ll come help you after the game sweetie!” you call back. “…You’ll need a good scholarship anyway if this Jordan Jefferson anytime touchdown doesn’t hit…” you whisper under your breath. 

3 hours later and you’re sweating over triangles and unit circles, muttering “Carson Wentz you dumb bitch”. You check your DraftKings app to look up the upcoming afternoon games, flashing a glance over to your spot where you hid your wife’s upcoming anniversary present of diamond earrings. “It’s okay, Jackson Dart will carve up the New Orleans defense like a honey ham. Plus I have Cam Skattebo punching in for 1 if 2 not tuddies, this is a textbook lock.”

1 hour later and your foot is tapping anxiously against your mother-in-law’s dining room carpet. You can just see over her shoulder that Dart threw another pick, and you acquaint the top of your knee with the underside of the brunch table. “Everything alright over there, son?” your father-in-law, Jeff, prompts. “Oh no I’m fine, just peaking at the game. I’m sure the Jets will cover; Breece Hall is totally underrated and the Cowboys run defense is softer than my middle-aged abdomen” you say with a smirk followed by a quick look of concern at your belly. “If you say so…” replies Jeff.

Another hour goes by and you’re hiding in the family half-bathroom, heaving over the sink and biting your cheek. “C’mon…” you seethe between breaths. “COME ON TUA. USE YOUR HEAD”. You watch the last of the Dolphin’s 17-point lead erode as Bryce Young advances from a 7-25 NFL career to 8-25. Your fist slams into the glass mirror and blood sprays across your arm.

Your finger wavers over the window to switch back to the Eagles – Broncos game, terrified that the Super Bowl champs will fail you. A calming sensation ripples down your spine as you recall that you took the Eagles straight up so Jalen Hurts will not even need to cover. However, before you can tap the window, a drop of blood runs off your finger and selects the game for you. It is immediately post-game, and Bo Nix is celebrating his astonishing victory with Sean Payton. You headbutt the remains of the shattered window.

It is the late afternoon in the ER. The nurse is dabbing your stitches with a piece of gauze. “You really did a number on yourself, be sure to take it easy the rest of the day. Do you have plans this evening?”

“I know, I know. I’m just going to go home and watch the SNF game.” you promise. As the nurses moves to leave the room, you hear a cheer erupt from the next room over. “Cam Ward! Cam Ward! Cam Ward!” You flip on the TV to see the impossible: Emari Demercado dropped the ball – and apparently your entire mortgage – at the 1-yard line, leaving Cam Ward to claw back every dollar out of your pocket to mount a comeback victory. The nurse returns to you wrapping your IV line around your neck and calls an orderly to restrain you.

That night, your phone plays at full volume on your bathroom sink, but you do not watch. You watched Josh Allen’s botched handoff in the first quarter, and you watched his red zone interception in the third quarter. But you do not watch now, now you listen. You listen as the final unbeaten team falls to their divisional rival, you listen as Drake Maye stakes his claim in the AFC East, you listen as the entirety of your 401k is ACH transferred into your bookie’s account. And your phone, for its part, listens as the toaster splashes down in your tub.

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