Round 8 – Results

The fantasy football season is half way over, including the finals. For some of us this news will be like seeing the bottom of your bowl of ice-cream for the first time, or going to the last commercial break before your favorite TV show ends – you’re still looking forward to what’s left, but you know you’re on the downhill run.  For others, it’ll be like someone finally pulling the dirty old Band-Aid off your hairy, bleeding arm – there’s just a touch of comfort in knowing that the pain has to end at some point.

Sacrificial Anodes (139) def Over Seasoned Vet (69)

Case in point – the Anodes have been having a whale of a time this year, literally wallowing in a bathtub full of slow-churned French Vanilla ice-cream (with a cherry on top). This week was no exception, as Drew-the-LONG-straw Brees (331 yards, 5 TDs) not only enjoyed a delightful sundae, he also managed to get in a rather delicious root beer float. Outside the glass window, in the rain and sludge, the Over Seasoned Vet took a deep swig of his cheap Amaretto and watched with envy as his kicker top-scored (Dan-Dan Bailey, 4 FG, 3 PAT), everyone else sucked, and his greatest hope (Michael “eucalyptus” Vicks – 0.3 points, damaged hammy) fell of his bike and scraped his knees AGAIN.

El Sereno Chica (137) def Seasoned Vets (102)

The Chicas aren’t exactly sure what they think of this season yet. It’s been a bit like skydiving – it starts off all “put this on” and “hang on as we take off”, and then heads more to “yeehar” and “this is the greatest thing ever”. Calvin “I don’t need Hobbes” Johnson proved that, with 329 yards and a TD. The only question is, how do you get that many yards and not score more TDs?  The Seasoned Vets have enjoyed a Peyton-of-Plenty (351 yards, 4 TDs, 3 INTs, FUM) season this year, but one QB does not a killer team make. So… this week is a fantasy football loss, a personal team win, and a drop to 4th on the table. They’re still happy, though, and that’s what it’s all about. #innerpeace

Sultans of Suck (116) def Da Gnomes (108)

This year the Sultans are undoubtedly the long distance runner of the league. They sprint when they have to, but mostly they just lope along with one eye watching the shadow of the guy behind them. Given their recent history as a bow-legged, club-footed hurdler, it seems that the long distance stuff might be a better fit. Darren McCarryin’ the Team McFadden (78 yards, 2 TDs) agrees. Speaking of hurdlers, Da Gnomes took up that empty roster spot – mostly to prove that Mom wrong about them – and found out pretty quickly that their pointy shoes (although aerodynamic) are not well suited for leaping over planks that are taller than the person wearing them. Flyin’ Aaron Rodgers (316 yards, 2 TDs) leapt the highest, but those damn bars kept hitting him in the solar plexus.

Northern Aggression (108) def Killer Koalas (68)

The Aggressors – kicking back in the park with some bagels, cream cheese, and very impressive Waldorf salad – are now safely back on track after a few weeks of making do with bark pulled off the sides of trees. Hope remains strong here, with even the undoubtedly-fake 16-carat nose ring on Gaudy Jordy Nelson (123 yards, 2 TDs) looking particularly sparkly in the noon-day sun. And the Koalas, the poor old super-hairy Koalas, covered in scratches, scrapes, cuts, slices, dices, and lice… well, let’s just think about getting those Band Aids off… This is their season of discontent, proven even further that their top scorer was Maurice And-His-Amazing-Rodents Jones-Drew (122 yards).

Onwards to the next eight games.  Six regular, then two finals.

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