vs MIA 2024-11-11
Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all.
wake-up
Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all.
Spam it
Bro just 2 points
I need 12.52 am I cooked?
King I need you 25 points please
Is he even on the field😭😭
Looks really bad pookie is getting no targets from staffboy
He better be
Hes not on the field??
He hasn’t even played a fucking snap
Cmon man do something
Why tf is he not playing!?????
I’m cooked
Is he even playing bruh
Dudes not even on the field what the FUQ
Yo I need this dude to at least get on the field
Bro forget about yards just get on the field
Come on coopy only need 62 fantasy points tonight🥹
where are you
Has bro been in the game at all
He’s out
Bro I just need 4. Get in the game son.