Let the Other Games Begin

Last year the Pickled Ones sucked enough that I was able to start studying for my annual Fantasy Football draft early. I’m still up to my ears in BABI this season, which is a great thing, but I’m afraid I may get behind in my football study. I love BABI, but PEFA (P&E Football Association), of which I am the one and only permanent commish, is far more important.

PEFA has history. This September 7 we will be having our 25th annual draft. About half the teams have owners that have been in the league from the beginning. I was 29 when I started that league, drafting in our penthouse office in the old Monadnock Building. I noted last year at the draft there was a hell of a lot more grey hair (for those who still have hair) around the table. 25 years. Quarter of a Century. Now that is a tradition.

We have a trophy that cost us $500, the Sam Barron Trophy, named after my late former partner, who died 19 years ago at the age of 39 right before the 1986 draft. We had won it all in 1985, with a great team. The names of all the winners are on there, covering now 2 sides of the trophy. This year, #25, we move to side 3 with the winner placques.

We all grew up since that draft. The Doc was in grad school at Berkeley, having just graduated from college the year before. Not med school yet, just working on a masters in chemistry. A friend of mine and a friend of my former business partner, who knew a billion people in common and had been at Berkeley together but had never met, met for the first time that night. Today they share Giant seat licenses together and are great, crazy friends. My current business partner was just a buddy at that draft, and we joined together 6 years later. There have been kids and grand kids, tailgate parties and draft parties, just a lifetime of good times.

I learned to use a word processor (Wordstar) and a spreadsheet (Visicalc) on our company’s Apple II+ to manage the league. We covered the walls of my office with sheets for the team names, and I left them up on the walls for a month, getting some strange looks from new clients. And they were all new, because I had just started my business that year.

Today I enjoyed an annual event: the purchase and analysis of Fantasy Football Index. Frankly, the Index sucks, except that everyone buys it, so you need to know what other people are thinking. But in the age of the internet, it is impossibly out of date when you need it.

That said, I enjoy one thing: the analysis of last years predictors. I always keep the prior year’s index, and mark it up in the prediction and mock draft areas, looking for guys who made good picks and bad picks. Peyton Manning really early was a good pick. Ahman Green really early was a bad pick.

Who liked Shawn Alexander before the season? And Edgerrin James? And Derrick Mason and Chad Johnson? And the sleepers: Muhsin Muhammed and Brandon Stokely? Antonio Gates and Jason Whitten? Jake Plummer and Trent Green and Jake Delhomme? And the Jones boys – Kevin, Julius and Thomas?

Then again, who liked (or didn’t like) the stinkers? Mike Vick, Clinton Portis, Kevan Barlow, William Green, Koren Robinson, Peerless Price, Eddie George, and a personal favorite, Jeff Garcia? The guys that got these guys right need to get paid. The guys that got them wrong need to go out of business.

So I analyze last year’s picks and decide who I’m going to subscribe to this year. Last year I subscribed to Draftsharks and Football Injuries. This year…well ask me after the season. And Doc…I am not writing a football blog to publish my thoughts for you to search for and find on the internet.

Or am I?