Ruminations on My First Month as a Fantasy Football Player

We’re through Week 4 of the 2009 Cascade Fantasy Football League season, my first fantasy season ever. So far I’m 4-4 — not bad for a rookie. I promised I wouldn’t use the family blog to ruminate about fantasy sports — can’t imagine Reese and Finn will care two toots about how my running backs did by the time they’re old enough to read this — but I have to do it just this once.

Fantasy makes the NFL an addictive proposition. I’ve watched more pro football games this year than I did all of last year. Sundays are officially couch time at casa de Jenkins. I feel like I’m living a beer commercial without the beer.

I’m doing it with smoke and mirrors. My running backs, Larry Johnson (KC) and Leon Washington (NYJ) have a combined total of eight (8) points in eight games. By way of comparison, Antoine Winfield, a Minnesota Vikings cornerback, scored nine (9) points last night — and he plays defense. If Johnson or Washington doesn’t get on track soon, the bubble’s gonna burst. My wide receivers aren’t much better. Larry Fitzgerald has been okay with 18 points in three games, but Terrell Owens has only eleven points in four games. Ted Ginn had six points in one game — and zip the rest. Zach Miller gets the ball toss to him — er, over his head — by JeMarcus Russell. ‘Nuff said.

This is about what Larry Johnson has done for me so far this year -- nothing.

At the beginning of the season I chagrined that I picked Ben Roethlisberger instead of Darren MacFadden with my first pick. Turns out I made a great move. With 50 points in four games, Big Ben has literally carried my entire offense this year. He’s the 7th rated QB in the league. MacFadden has a whopping seven points in four games for Al Davis’s Dumb Dumbs. I hope for his sake he can get out of Oakland before his career is officially ruined. Put him on the New York Jets and he’s a household name.

I dreaded picking him, but Big Ben is carrying me.

I have the best defense in the league. Aaron Schobel and James Harrison have been monsters with 23 and 21 points, respectively. (Compare that to my offensive players and you’ll see the smoke and mirrors.)

It’s still early to be forecasting the ‘09 MVP, but I’d be willing to betcha (uh oh) that it won’t be a running back. Aside from Adrian Peterson, the league is light on dominant running backs this year. I’d put even money right now that the MVP will be either Drew Brees, Peyton Manning, Eli Manning, or Tom Brady. It’s too bad Betcha’s not still around …

I better stop now …

Ruminations on My First Week as a Fantasy Football Player

I promise that I will not often contaminate the family blog with every thought I have about my new found hobby of fantasy football. Nonetheless, this is my first week as a player and it is my blog, so I’m going to bang the keyboard just this once.

A few ruminations:

This fantasy stuff is going to fundamentally change the way I watch football (and, hence, spend my weekends). I watched more full regular season games this week than I watched all last year. Thank God for Comcast’s video recorder.

Among the games I watched was last night’s Raiders-Chargers game. I otherwise couldn’t have cared less but I have Raiders TE Zach Miller, and his performance mattered. I’m amazed at just how bad JeMarcus Russell is. If he had not been a number one pick and had the Raiders not broke the bank to sign him, this guy is a No. 3 quarterback at best. (These guys agree.) As of now, he is one of only two starting quarterbacks in the league (Sean Bulger being the other) who is not owned in my fantasy league. After watching last night’s performance, I understand why.

My offensive players aren't good, but at least I don't have JeMarcus Russell.

It’s amazing how NFL running backs can fall so far so fast. Two years ago Larry Johnson was Da Man. Now he’s rushing for 20 yards on 11 carries — and that doesn’t look like an anomaly. LaDanian Tomlinson was a record breaker in ‘07 — now Darren Sproles is on the field at crunch time. Shaun Alexander was big time in 2005 — two years later he couldn’t get a job. These guys have as much job security as Seattle-area entrepreneurs who dare tread near the state’s gambling monopoly.

The more I think about it the more I appreciate just what a great target customer the fantasy player would have been for Betcha.com. The overlaps and value props just jump off the page. I can’t quite put it to words on this entry and I won’t lest I be hauled off to jail in Tennessee or some other would-be Louisiana, but something about “Hit the reset button every week.”

If Betcha is gambling, how is it that fantasy football isn’t? (Note to the Washington State Gambling Commission, who is undoubtedly reading this: don’t read this as an admission that I think Betcha is gambling. It isn’t.) Other than ESPN, CBS Sports, et al. are very powerful. (NOTE: A lawyer in New Jersey actually made this argument last year. The case was litigated in federal court — he lost.)

By the way: I went 1-1 in Week 1. Had Russell been as even as accurate as an 18th century firearm, he might have hit Zach Miller for a TD pass, and I’d have gone 2-0. I got mighty lucky winning even one, I must admit: Aaron Schobel, my third-ranked defensive player, outscored my starting backfield and one of my starting wide receivers — Ben Roethlisberger, Leon Washington, Larry Johnson, and Terrell Owens — combined. If those guys keep getting outscored by a single defensive player, my win against Norman will be my lone one for the year.

I'm in for a long year if Bills DE Aaron Schobel continues to be my high scorer.

My First Ever Fantasy Football Draft

Yesterday I attended my first ever fantasy football draft. I’m playing in the Cascade Auto Glass Fantasy Football League, run by my good buddy Brad Nelson. Paul Sharkey, Norman Cheuk and Tim O’Brien are also members.

About 16 of us spent a gorgeous Saturday afternoon in the basement of Fox Sports Grill drafting players for ‘09. I inherited Larry Fitzgerald as a keeper on my team. Among the other big names I nabbed: Ben Roethlisberger (whom I stupidly nabbed over Darren McFadden), Terrell Owens and Larry Johnson. Deion Branch — not sure what I was thinking there.

I think I made a big mistake picking him ...

instead of him.

Anyway, I was up at 4 am this morning lamenting my Roethlisberger-over-McFadden decision.

I think I’m going to be addicted.

Another Kitsap Trip, Another Seattle Team Loss

Yesterday Cheever, Norman, Benezra and I took the ferry out to Kingston to play Port Ludlow Golf Club. This was a follow-up trip to our White Horse trip last week. We wanted to play a decent course on the Kitsap Peninsula.

Different result, same result.

The Cheever/Cheuk defeated Benezra/Jenkins 1 up. We were four down through five, gladiated back to get to 1 up after 12, then lost three straight. We won 16 and I had two ten-foot birdie putts on 17 and 18, each of which would have won the hole. Missed ‘em both. (I seriously need a new putter and/or putting stroke.)

A few photos:

Proof we were there.

Norman and Cheever looking for Norman's game.

Me and Benezra, the latter in his hunting shirt.

My new Etonics were, aside from Benezra's shirt, the bright spot of my day.

These Guys Are Still Good

Yesterday Steven, Norman and I headed east to the Boeing Classic. It was the first tournament I’d been to live in roughly seven years and the first senior event I’d been to in probably twenty.

Steven and I at the range. That's Bernhard Langer in the background.

These guys are still very, very, very good. To say they stripe it is a serious understatement. Even guys who aren’t known for their length — guys like John Cook or Nick Price, for example — bomb it by me a good forty yards.

Me and Steven by the 14th tee. That's Dan Forsman in the background, next to Mark O'Meara.

We spent a good deal of time following Messrs. Price and Cook, who were paired with John Jacobs. We also followed Mark O’Meara around. I spoke briefly with Hal Sutton — “hey Hal, how far is to carry over to that bunker?,” and he responded with an analysis of the hole.)

Mark O'Meara strutting down the 14th fairway -- tough life.

Maybe the coolest point was when we were leaving. We get in the car and who’s getting out of the car in front of us but John Cook himself. So I rolled down the window and asked him how it is that Tour players get all their free clothes. It turns out the companies (in his case, Nike) send big boxes of clothes to them at home about 3-4 times a year. From there, they actually have to pack their own bags.

Norman behind the 18th green. A few minutes after this, Loren Roberts got up and down to take a one-shot win over Mark O'Meara.

Sounds tough, I know.

John Cook is officially my favorite Champions Tour player.

Our Day Out to White Horse: The Trip Was Worth It, But Not the Destination

Today Norman Cheuk, Greg Cheever, Jeff Benezra and I took the Edmonds ferry out to Kingston to play White Horse, just outside of Kingston.

It did not go well.

The ferry ride, as always, was pleasurable. I think it was my fifth Kingston ferry rider of the summer (Port Gamble for reenacting, LaPush for surfing, White Horse for golf, Forks for the Twilight “tour”).

The golf, however, was a different story.

I shot a cool 93 to follow up the 92 I shot there a month ago. Benezra, Cheever and Norman shot 94, 91, and 96, respectively (off 7, 6 and 9 handicaps). The World Team beat us 3&2. I lost $15.

Suffice it to say, White Horse will not have to worry about seeing any of us again. Not a level lie on the property, greens like trampolines, some sort of gravel in the bunkers.

Fortunately, we caught some good grub on the way back at a cool little pub in downtown Kingston:

Next up — Port Ludlow. And a little payback time.

Facebook: Someone Writes Exactly What I’ve Been Thinking

I don’t often use the family blog to quote other articles in full, but on occasion someone writes exactly what I’m thinking and, since they’ve already done the work, what the heck. Such is the case with this little gem from CNN.com about annoying people on Facebook, a source of great time wasting in Casa de Jenkins:

Facebook, for better or worse, is like being at a big party with all your friends, family, acquaintances and co-workers.

My Facebook page, circa today. No bragging or sympathy-seeking there.

There are lots of fun, interesting people you’re happy to talk to when they stroll up. Then there are the other people, the ones who make you cringe when you see them coming. This article is about those people.

Sure, Facebook can be a great tool for keeping up with folks who are important to you. Take the status update, the 160-character message that users post in response to the question, “What’s on your mind?” An artful, witty or newsy status update is a pleasure — a real-time, tiny window into a friend’s life.

But far more posts read like navel-gazing diary entries, or worse, spam. A recent study categorized 40 percent of Twitter tweets as “pointless babble,” and it wouldn’t be surprising if updates on Facebook, still a fast-growing social network, break down in a similar way. Take a CNN quiz: What kind of Facebooker are you? »

Combine dull status updates with shameless self-promoters, “friend-padders” and that friend of a friend who sends you quizzes every day, and Facebook becomes a daily reminder of why some people can get on your nerves.

Here are 12 of the most annoying types of Facebook users:

The Let-Me-Tell-You-Every-Detail-of-My-Day Bore. “I’m waking up.” “I had Wheaties for breakfast.” “I’m bored at work.” “I’m stuck in traffic.” You’re kidding! How fascinating! No moment is too mundane for some people to broadcast unsolicited to the world. Just because you have 432 Facebook friends doesn’t mean we all want to know when you’re waiting for the bus.

The Self-Promoter. OK, so we’ve probably all posted at least once about some achievement. And sure, maybe your friends really do want to read the fascinating article you wrote about beet farming. But when almost EVERY update is a link to your blog, your poetry reading, your 10k results or your art show, you sound like a bragger or a self-centered careerist.

The Friend-Padder. The average Facebook user has 120 friends on the site. Schmoozers and social butterflies — you know, the ones who make lifelong pals on the subway — might reasonably have 300 or 400. But 1,000 “friends?” Unless you’re George Clooney or just won the lottery, no one has that many. That’s just showing off.

The Town Crier. “Michael Jackson is dead!!!” You heard it from me first! Me, and the 213,000 other people who all saw it on TMZ. These Matt Drudge wannabes are the reason many of us learn of breaking news not from TV or news sites but from online social networks. In their rush to trumpet the news, these people also spread rumors, half-truths and innuendo. No, Jeff Goldblum did not plunge to his death from a New Zealand cliff.

The TMIer. “Brad is heading to Walgreens to buy something for these pesky hemorrhoids.” Boundaries of privacy and decorum don’t seem to exist for these too-much-information updaters, who unabashedly offer up details about their sex lives, marital troubles and bodily functions. Thanks for sharing.

The Bad Grammarian. “So sad about Fara Fauset but Im so gladd its friday yippe”. Yes, I know the punctuation rules are different in the digital world. And, no, no one likes a spelling-Nazi schoolmarm. But you sound like a moron.

The Sympathy-Baiter. “Barbara is feeling sad today.” “Man, am I glad that’s over.” “Jim could really use some good news about now.” Like anglers hunting for fish, these sad sacks cast out their hooks — baited with vague tales of woe — in the hopes of landing concerned responses. Genuine bad news is one thing, but these manipulative posts are just pleas for attention.

The Lurker. The Peeping Toms of Facebook, these voyeurs are too cautious, or maybe too lazy, to update their status or write on your wall. But once in a while, you’ll be talking to them and they’ll mention something you posted, so you know they’re on your page, hiding in the shadows. It’s just a little creepy.

The Crank. These curmudgeons, like the trolls who spew hate in blog comments, never met something they couldn’t complain about. “Carl isn’t really that impressed with idiots who don’t realize how idiotic they are.” [Actual status update.] Keep spreading the love.

The Paparazzo. Ever visit your Facebook page and discover that someone’s posted a photo of you from last weekend’s party — a photo you didn’t authorize and haven’t even seen? You’d really rather not have to explain to your mom why you were leering like a drunken hyena and French-kissing a bottle of Jagermeister.

The Maddening Obscurist. “If not now then when?” “You’ll see…” “Grist for the mill.” “John is, small world.” “Dave thought he was immune, but no. No, he is not.” [Actual status updates, all.] Sorry, but you’re not being mysterious — just nonsensical.

The Chronic Inviter. “Support my cause. Sign my petition. Play Mafia Wars with me. Which ‘Star Trek’ character are you? Here are the ‘Top 5 cars I have personally owned.’ Here are ‘25 Things About Me.’ Here’s a drink. What drink are you? We’re related! I took the ‘What President Are You?’ quiz and found out I’m Millard Fillmore! What president are you?”

You probably mean well, but stop. Just stop. I don’t care what president I am — can’t we simply be friends? Now excuse me while I go post the link to this story on my Facebook page.

Mulligans Are There For a Reason

This weekend I played in the Royal Oaks Member/Guest with my good buddy Paul Sharkey. This was the fourth time we’d played together in the annual event. In years past we hadn’t made much noise.

This year, however, we did quite well.

Yesterday we fired a two-over 74 (net 62) in alternate shot to finish at 128. Our round featured my first ever, semi-well executed driver off the deck, Alvaro Quiros style. We won our flight gross by like eight shots. We tied for first low net in our flight (128) and tied for second overall, two strokes behind Casey Ribera’s team (Greenspan ‘07).

Other than the par 5 6th, which we double bogeyed, we played like a couple of Tour stars. We missed a handful of birdie putts inside of ten feet. Had we made even half of them, we would have won the whole thing.

And it’s not like we didn’t have the chance.

At the beginning of the tournament we bought mulligans — one each per person per day. On Friday we flat forgot about them. We ended up shooting a respectable 66, but if we make good use of one of our two mulligans it’s a 65. I remembered them on Saturday on the second tee. We ended up using mine but not Paul’s. So we used ONE of our FOUR mulligans. Put two of the four to good use and we tie for first.

Still, it was a great event and we had a blast. We knew we were within shouting distance on the back nine on Saturday and we played in in one under. Pressure was on, we got it done. Big time.

Not unlike a certain Mr. Woods.

Jonathan Sees the Elephant

This weekend Jonathan and I did the Civil War reenacting thing up in Ferndale, near the U.S.-Canada border. It was Jonathan’s first reenacting experience. Unfortunately there wasn’t enough gear to go around so I watched the battles from afar. That gave me ample time, however, to snap pics with my iPhone. A few of them:

Over a game of Shut the Box (memo to the WSGC: we didn't play for money).

Chillin'.

The flag of the 4th.

Just about ready for battle.

The ‘09 Greenspan Cup: This One Didn’t Go So Well

The ‘09 Greenspan Cup is in the books. The Paul Sharkey-captained World Team defeated my Seattle Team 21.5 – 14.5 to take their second straight Cup. It was the second most lopsided win in Cup history.

The red guys won.

The Cup was great fun as always, but basically a disaster on the course for the Emerald City boys. I won’t belabor the point, but we were down 9-3 after Friday and just couldn’t catch up. I played some of the best golf I’ve ever played at the twelve-year old tournament. I won three matches with my longtime bud Joel Aro and went 4-1 overall, including a year-best 74 on Sunday to beat Tim O’Brien 5&4 (thereby ending the latter’s nine-match winning streak). Unfortunately it was all for naught.

Beating the heat with Joel, Sharkey, Waldner and Adam.

What a guy looks like ten minutes after hitting a 380-yard drive on a 670-yard par 5 (downhill, admittedly).

By the end I could only laugh.

Like Cheever before him, World Captain Sharkey tasted champagne.

Next year we’re off to Bandon Dunes. New state — hopefully a new result.