Football is a violent sport. Fantasy football? Not so much. But what if you played fantasy football while pretending to be an unrelenting time-traveling cyborg assassin, ruthlessly eliminating a player from your roster every week while spouting nearly 30-year-old catch phrases like “Hasta la vista, baby” in a really bad Austrian accent?
Then you probably don’t have many friends, and I feel sorry for you.
Last year, I was but a mere follower of John Lapinski’s Terminated! series, where he chronicled his entry in the FFPC best-ball contest that requires owners to whittle their roster down, player by player, each week until only a core of 10 – hopefully comprising a legitimate starting lineup – remains on your team. Although John has another entry this year, I’m happy to take the baton and give weekly reports of our own progress.
In an effort not to completely lift from John’s previous efforts, I’m going to limit the background info to a recap of the rules and lazily link to John’s opening entry from last year.
- FFPC requires 1 quarterback, 2 running backs, 2 wide receivers, 1 tight end, 2 flex spots (RB/WR/TE), 1 kicker, and 1 team defense.
- Receptions get 1 point each, except for TEs, who get 1.5 points per catch.
- It’s best ball, so there are no lineups to submit, and no waivers. The draft (which for us was Aug. 25) was 26 rounds.
- There are 360 teams (30 leagues of 12 teams) and the top-four finishers during the 13-week regular season (ranked by total points, with no head-to-head) advance to the championship round the final three weeks.
- Each week, including prior to Week 1, one player must be cut from your team. Failure to do so by the deadline disqualifies you from the rest of the tournament.
This was our draft, from the third spot (with a link if you don’t have 20/10 vision or aren’t viewing this on a 75-inch flat screen):
I’m not going to take you through each pick, but here was our mindset:
We drafted third and knew we wanted a running back, because, if our luck held, we wanted a strong starting lineup at the end. David Johnson was a surprise at the top pick, and Todd Gurley went next, so we went with Le’Veon Bell, who, at the time of this writing, seems to be playing a sort of reverse Terminator with his owners.1
What we gleaned from John’s draft three days earlier (when he also picked from the third spot) was that tight end went earlier than expected, the working theory being that having a bunch of middling TEs makes it harder to decide which one to cut. We took Zach Ertz in the second then had Evan Engram fall to us in the fifth.
Regarding our 18th-round pick: The team is not mine alone. I have three other teammates, but only one, my friend Andy, was free to draft the Terminator team. We were both at our respective homes, and we agreed he would be the one to select each player in the online draft room. During the draft, another Rotoviz writer messaged me to make sure I’d heard the news about Marqise Lee’s potentially season-ending knee injury earlier that day. “Of course,” I told him, without adding, “What do you think I am, a moron?”
In the 18th round, Andy and I, conversing via speaker phone, failed to decide which crappy QB, defense or kicker to add, and the 90-second timer expired before we were able to make a pick. There was no one in our draft queue, so it gave us the highest-ranked player available. Welcome to our team, Marqise Lee! Pack your things, you’re gone!
The above graphic, by the way, is what you see next to every player on the roster: a little button that says, “TERMINATE.” I like to imagine myself behind a desk, with all my players gathered before me, desperately pleading their case regarding why they should remain on my team, some begging, some in tears, some defiant, but all deferential to the puppet master who holds their fate in his hands, my finger hovering over my laptop trackpad, ready to jettison the least valuable player to the depths of the waiver wire, forever to be unclaimed.
So, readers, come with me if you want to live … vicariously through our attempt to win $25,000!2