Back in early August, my older brother asked me to help him out with the fantasy football team that he operates in a league with a few of his friends.  The fact that I am far from a football expert cast some doubt on the endeavor, but I never really considered saying no because it seemed like it could be fun.  I didn't really have to do much work - just watch out for injuries and figure out which players we should add or drop.  No big deal.

What the hell was I thinking?

Seriously, this isn't funny anymore.  Our team and our season is a mess - how we've managed to stumble to sixth place in the standings (out of twelve teams) so far is un-bleeping-believable.  Apparently we pissed off one of the Football Gods, because the following has transpired:

Late August: The Friday before the draft, I wind up in the emergency room with a bad gallbladder.  I miss the draft (my brother selects Ahman Green, then calls me and says, "Why didn't you tell me Ahman Green is hurt?") before spending Monday and Tuesday in the hospital following surgery to remove the demon organ.  I ignore the clear sign of things to come and continue to express interest in the upcoming fantasy season.

Week 1: Our backup quarterback, Trent Green, sustains a scary head injury when his cranium is bounced off the ground in a loss to the Cincinnati Bengals.  He still hasn't returned.

Weeks 2-5: Ahman Green kills us at the running back position, completely missing Weeks Four and Five.

Week 7: Our starting quarterback, Matt Hasselback, injures his knee in a loss to the Minnesota Vikings.  The decision is made to drop him from the roster in favor of Damon Huard, who is enjoying success as Trent Green's replacement in Kansas City.  Almost as soon as we pick Huard up, rumors circulate that he will not play the following week due to injury.

Week 8: We decide to exchange the Washington Redskins defense for that of the Minnesota Vikings, which, my brother notes, "has been playing really well lately."  That vaunted defense proceeds to lose a heartbreaker to New England, 31-7, giving up four touchdown passes and over 300 passing yards to Tom Brady.

Week 9: A tense family strategy session leads to Willis McGahee getting the start over Rudi Johnson - we figure the worst that can happen is that Johnson busts out for 200 yards and four touchdowns.  Au contraire, mes amies - Johnson had an okay game (nothing to make us regret benching him), but McGahee didn't make it out of the week unscathed, cracking three ribs.  He could be out for up to a month.

Week 9: Our second best receiver, Amani Toomer, finishes up his season early by tearing his ACL against the Texans.  Somehow, it took me three days to find out about this.

Week 9: Our third best receiver, Joe Horn, injures his hamstring prior to the game and does not play.  (Note: Hamstring injuries and wide receivers generally do not equal happiness.)  I draft a letter to Reggie Wayne warning him that he is our number one receiver and should take the necessary precautions.  (Okay, so that last sentence was a lie.  It wouldn't be a bad idea, though.)

Maybe this doesn't sound all that bad - just a little bit of bad fantasy football luck - but I know I've forgotten some of the messed up stuff that has happened to us.  Trust me, it's been very much not good.  And it's only Week 10.