I hate you Fan Duel

Pictured above you'll see one of my recent Fan Duel entries. It might be from last week. It might be from last month. It might be from last year. Doesn't matter. They all look remarkably alike.

By noon, Pacific Time, I'm usually in the green. Meaning I'm winning. Cam Newton has thrown for 5 touchdowns. Dan Bailey has kicked 7 field goals, all from 60 yards out. And the Denver Broncos defense have 14 points just on safeties.

And then the tide turns.

Demarco Murray gets a concussion. Or Julio Jones starts dropping passes in the endzone. The players of the NFL seem to conspire against me.

My $100 winnings become 75. And then 50. And then 25.

By the time Al Michaels and Chris Collingsworth start calling the Sunday Night Game I'm no longer in the green. And find myself rooting for Carson Wentz to throw an 80 yard touchdown pass to some third string tight end from Southern North Dakota State, just to get me one fucking point so I can win $9.73.

That's not frustration you're sensing, that's paranoia.

I am convinced the folks at Fan Duel have rigged the system.

You see I resisted the whole fantasy football thing form the very beginning. But then 3 years ago, I caved and gave in to the phenomena, perhaps influenced by the constant playing of the Ed Norton-voiced commercials. I signed up, dropped a small deposit and made my very first picks for my very first entry.

Call it beginner's luck or call it doing my homework, but right from the get-go I was a winner.

45 bucks right out of the gate. Blessed with a fervent imagination, I saw myself as some budding Ace Rothstein. If I played this right I could up my ante, start bringing home some serious cash, and pay the girl's college tuition based solely on the performances of Andy Dalton, Eli Manning and Da'brickashaw what's-his-face.

But that's not the way it went.

Week after miserable week I found myself a point shy, a half a point shy and in one case, two tenths of a point shy of being in the green.

Now, I'm convinced I'll never recoup my losses.

Unless there's stunning performance turned in by Ha Ha Clinton Dix.