Sometimes people get mad when I won't join their leagues, and I have to explain to them that I hate running the one team, so why on earth would I want to run another? If this were a bunch of guys from the office and not my good buddies from high school, I would have bowed out a long time ago.
But today I had a stroke of genius: I will make my nephews run my team this season! This makes perfect sense because . . .
A) During football season it's all I hear these two guys talk about, so they obviously enjoy it more than me.
B) It's a good way to text my nephews and stay in touch with them because sometimes two months or more will go by without me hearing from them. If we win the whole thing, I'll split the money with them. And win or lose I'll take them out to some cool arcade place out by where they live that they have been asking me to take them to.
C) I'm 100% sure they will do a better job at it than me.
|(It's finally the year for the Flying Fire-Breathing Shark Riding Knights!)|
Another rule is they can't read the message boards with my friends in the league saying disgusting things. Okay, so they will end up reading once I've told them not to because they will know some profane stuff will be on there, but they can't under any circumstances tell their mother about any of the jokes they've read.
Keeping it a secret is another trick all together. There is only one person I can think of who might still check in on this blog on occasion who might come in contact with people in the league, so James Douglas Morrison (JDM), if you're reading this, please keep my Boy Genius plot top secret.
I contacted the two boys this afternoon via text, and the 16-year-old said yes right away. The seventh grader sent a text back saying, "Sure. Sounds fun." Then another text moments later saying "Wait, who is this?" It's all the more encouraging that he likes this fantasy crap so much that he agreed to do it without even knowing who it is!
This is going to be a fantastic season. While I'm drinking a cold one on a Sunday game day, I'll be able to text the boys about our players that are kicking butt - and never sending negative stuff because as the prudent team owner, I know that would be bad for my coaches' morale.
Also, for no good tricking reason, here's a picture of Alien playing Predator in a friendly game of pool.
|(Pretty sure Alien is drunk because he is drooling. And the drool is probably acid. Which will burn its way into the apartment below the bar.)|