In the words of singer-songwriter Nerina Pallot (Google her, she’s awesome) “oh, it’s over, and everything is wrong”. My horribly acoust-emo (acoustic, emo, geddit?) taste in music aside, the end of Fantasy Premier League was not all I’d hoped it would be. I miss the days of riding high, of being on top, just as I should be. But I had a few bad weeks and that meant that I was resigned to ending up either fifth or sixth.
On the positive side, I ended up fifth. I beat Killian. That was a sweetener in a sour situation. While Killian is one of my favourite people, nothing feels better than beating him. It’s a weird dynamic. Of course, like we were all expecting, Paul Fennessey won the league, by a margin of about a billion points. Colin Scally’s 119 afc came second, Matt Gregg’s Matt United came in third, my second favourite team Fun Laoghaire Pirates came fourth under the guidance of our editor Catriona Laverty, I came fifth, Stade Parfait with Killian came sixth, Gav Reilly’s The Absolutelys came seventh, with Quinton O’Reilly’s Loughbawn Celtic coming in last (sorry Quinton). It’s been a fun run. While my result wasn’t the desired, I can’t deny that I’ve had a great time attempting to come first.
However, I must admit that I have been negligent of late. I’m an instant gratification type of woman, sad but true. I only really take pleasure from things that make me feel better about myself. I don’t mind working hard at something, but the minute things start going rough, like the weeks in which I was scoring lowest, my morale dips and I lose interest. It didn’t help that I was bombarded with finishing up the paper, preparing for a massive job interview, completing my final essays and studying for my last undergraduate exams. I just lost my way. Stopped caring a bit. I began forgetting to change my team from week to week. I guess the only person I have to blame for all of this is myself.
Despite all of this, it’s been fun. While my result left much to be desired I’ve learned an awful lot. I (sort of) understand
the offside rule, I know who plays for what team and I’ve validated my belief that they’re paid far too much. For men that are paid hundreds of thousands a week, they seem pretty reluctant to actually play. Someone (possibly Zamora?) on Catriona’s team had man flu or something for like a month. I had to sell Rooney and Fabregas. These men are more pampered that a UCD student who lives in Sandymount and whose dad works in banking. Ridiculous.
I will hopefully be taking part in a league next year cos it turns out they’re gonna let me edit the paper. Hopefully there’ll be even more interest and we can have even more fun. I’ll also be doing a football players of the league countdown once I figure out who’s actually hot in football. Funnily enough, rugby is full of delicious men, but football is lacking, so I’ve got quite a job ahead of me.
So, for the last time, despite my recent apathy and bitchiness, I’ll say GO TEAM NEWS! It’s been fun, but now it’s time to think up next year’s team name.