If you were in a bar 15 years ago and you saw two guys going nuts over a meaningless touchdown that came with just two minutes left in a blowout, you would’ve thought they were either degenerate gamblers who just covered the spread, or that they had a few too many Miller Lites at happy hour.
But in today’s world of fantasy football, this happens all the time as fantasy owners try to squeeze every single point they can out of their players like an old tube of toothpaste.
Earlier this week, I heard something I never thought I’d ever hear. I was standing around on a slow Monday night in the restaurant I work at, when the female bartender asked me if I knew anything about fantasy football.
Before I answered her question I figured she probably just wanted to know a little bit more about the institution that had recently transformed her boyfriend into a zombie who spent most of his time pouring over mock dra...
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