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NOTES FROM A KEEPER
 THE UPLIFTING UPS AND DEMEANING DOWNS OF LIFE AS A FANTASY KEEPER LEAGUER
by Michael E Lawrence
1/9/2007
And just like that, OTAs, training camps, two a days, pre-season games, are done.
In the blink of an eye, we’re here, on the eve of the regular season. After all the agonising, the practicing, the snacking, we’re actually here.
But as Head Coach of the Holybourne Prophets a young team with so much to achieve, a proud history to construct and leave as a defiant legacy decisions must be made that will limit or liberate our future according to their wisdom.
Not least: who to start at quarterback? To whom to entrust the keys of this nascent Ferrari? This team with so much speed, so much athleticism, so much promise?
As I think these grandiose thoughts to myself, the door swings open, and in all legs and arms flailing about the place actually falls Romo.
It is like watching Christopher Reeve’s Clark Kent negotiate a revolving door.
S-s-sorry boss, he says, dusting himself off. He has a post-it note stuck to his hair, but I decide not to embarrass him further. C-c-cat.
He is allergic.
But here he is, my boy Romo, picked up by the Prophets as a free agent last year when nobody else wanted any part of him. And what did he proceed to do? Only throw 5 perfect touchdown passes on Thanksgiving day and singlehandedly lead the Prophets (and, sure, the Cowboys) to a major victory.
It’s just that we’ve also got Matt Leinart, a former top-10 NFL draft pick throwing to All Pro caliber receivers.
Romo trips over a fold in the rug as he approaches the desk.
Tony, says I, thanks for coming in. I gesture towards a seat, and he takes it.
Tony, tomorrow, as you know, is the regular season opener. Tomorrow we stake our claim as a major force in this little league of ours. Tomorrow, we take it to The Blackbirds.
I neglect to mention that strictly speaking that means facing a frankly terrifying combination of Peyton Manning, Randy Moss and Willie Parker, among others.
What I’m saying is Tony, we’ll need a leader, an Admiral that can keep the team in line, keep it buzzed up, keep it on top.
By the look on his face, Romo knows where this is going he can already feel his grip on the starter’s job begin to weaken. I continue like a doctor with terrible, terminal news.
It’s just that we need real strength, real iron at the quarterback position.
To say he looks crestfallen would be to describe the North Pole as a bit parky. He’s devastated.
And seeing as that’s the case, Tony, there’s only one decision I can make.
I can hardly believe the words I’m about to say, but I’ve been planning to say them the entire off-season.
Tony, I’d like you to be our starting quarterback.
There is silence. Romo looks at me confused for a second. Perhaps five seconds. Maybe ten. I am reminded briefly of how my cat looks as I put it out for the night when it had been sleeping perfectly comfortably on the couch: There must be some kind of mistake
Then, a disbelievng grin the width of Niagra Falls cascades across his face.
You mean? I I’m gonna? You want me to Not Matt? I’m the quart-
He promptly passes out.
He’ll be fine by game time.
*****
Something else funny happened on the way to the regular season opener: LenDale in whom our little organisation has placed so much faith has only gone and come good.
In the first halves of the final two pre-season games, he’s been running, catching, even blocking, at a sensational level. He’s been punishing tacklers, showing off suction cup hands, getting red zone looks.
Has he finally turned it round?
Guess so, he tells me sheepishly, eyeballing the floor, a light year removed from the vitriolic troublemaker who arrived in Holybourne as a first round draft pick a year ago. He’s as pleased as I am.
And so we enter into the season with youth, vigour and possibility at every position: Romo, LenDale, Ronnie, Lee Evans, Steve Smith, Mark Clayton, Dallas Clark and Mike Nugent will jog out in Holybourne gold, blue and black Sunday. The bench is no less promising.
But God: Manning, Moss and Parker. If you add up their career best single season touchdown totals, you get 82. My guys haven’t scored that many touchdowns combined in their entire careers. Taking in that fact I stagger backwards into my chair.
Romo, all positivity and confidence since the news, trots in.
Everything ok? he asks, seeing my pale complexion.
Yep, yep. Everything’s fine. You know we’re playing a really good team tomorrow Tony, real good, I say, giving too much away without meaning to. They’re more experienced than us.
Phsaw, says Romo, rubbishing their pedigree. So they can pass some, and we prefer to run. You say tomato and I say tomato.
He pronounces both ‘tomato’s exactly the same.
But I take his point and more than that, I see what I hoped I’d see: Romo, unafraid, ready to lead albeit blindly our young team out to victory.
He leaves with a flourish, but stubs his toe on the doorframe as he does so.
Let’s pray to God LenDale and Ronnie keep getting fed the ball.
Archive Articles:
Notes From A Keeper August 10th Draft Day
Notes From A Keeper July 13th Draft Strategy
Notes From A Keeper June 17th Cutdown
Notes From A Keeper May 20th Off Season
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