Here's the text of the essay I had to read because I lost to Colin in fantasy football:
Colin Daniels, or Joey Applebutter as his friends call him, is not only one of the greatest fantasy football players I have ever come up against, but he's a church going family man who would never act on his dark, homoerotic urges aimed squarely at Tom Brady.
But enough of his forbidden thirst for Tom Brady's butthole. Colin is a damn fine fantasy player. Dismantling my two time championship winning team Masters of Reality last week, 168-113. And while Colin has never won the Denver City Football League, like I have -twice- I believe he has a bright future of pounding the competition during the regular season only to fail when it matters most.
His skill at selecting players and crushing opposing fantasy teams is much like what San Diego GM AJ "Lord of No Rings" Smith does in the real world. In fact, based on the massive amount of points Colin puts up every week, I'd like to anoint him, the San Diego Chargers of fantasy football. Great work my friend, you've earned it.
Colin does his research and that's primarily why he's so successful at assembling a team of titans that beat a bunch of chumps who are fielding players on IR. His dedication to analysis is legendary and we're all pretty sure that if Cecil Lammey told him to smear himself in pig's blood and rob a Color Me Mine in broad day light, he'd not only do it, but then graciously give Cecil full credit for the great call.
And while he does owe Cecil a debt of gratitude, it's all Colin when it comes to making the final decision. And that he does while soaping up his various folds in the shower, listening to the disembodied voice of Lammey, secretly wishing he was there, whispering advice in his ear while he washes the luxurious hair of a certain quarter back from the New England area.
Even though he was blessed with a body that could have played football, his mammoth 6'5 frame is just too slow and clumsy to have actually competed. That's why he plays fantasy. Again, one can imagine him naked, soaping himself to the tones of Cecil Lammey, his pannis hanging low, obscuring his genitals. An image Cecil has probably had to delete from his cell phone many times. Bret Favre's wang be damned Cecil! This is the mushroom cap of a possible champion! The world should know about the brilliance and ambiguous genitalia a one Colin Daniels.
Colin plays in nearly 17 fantasy leagues and it should be more. His expertise at deciding which grown man in tight pants will net the most points that he can feel personally responsible for is unmatched by anyone playing in a mere 16 leagues. If you happen to be in one of the many, many leagues he plays in, you should get down right now and thank whatever goat god Ken Buck prays to and thank her for allowing you the opportunity to see a true maestro at watching someone else work do his magic.
Colin is so goddamned good at fantasy football, the world better watch out when he decides to dedicate the long hours he spends on it to solving the problems in the middle east, homelessness, cancer and AIDS. We may then lose the best fantasy player never to win a championship, but the world will gain a first round draft pick of a swell guy.
