This weekend was something special in sports. It wasn’t the showdown between the two best players in tennis at the US open, or the UVA goalie chugging a beer during a hockey game, but the great American pastime of fantasy football. A sport that is unlike any other since the time of the gladiators. As such, I love it. But there is nothing I hate more than fantasy football. The anger I feel after losing is reminiscent of Hades in the Disney classic Hercules. So in honor of my first ten point loss, here are the ten reasons I hate Fantasy Football.

1. Being Commissioner.

4 years ago, I brought some friends together to form a fantasy football league. I thought it would be a new interactive way to enjoy the sport. Boy was I wrong. It seems as though the commissioner has the curse of being the worst player. Why else would I be a perennial bottom-feeder? Maybe my subconscious makes me bad so that I have no judiciary bias towards my team because I hate my lineup anyway. Even worse, my friends don’t grant me authority. Apparently democracy is something they value, rather than the dictatorship I had in mind. Either way, they are always begging me to change the rules, when the only rule change I would make is one that lets me win every week.

2. Drafting.

August is a time of possibility when college starts and the fantasy football draft occurs. There are hundreds of players willing to play poorly for me, and this season, I was blessed with the #1 pick. That’s too much power for someone who can’t handle any responsibility. Who do I take? Naturally, I take the top running back who does the worst week 1, Adrian Peterson. It seems as though the draft is not about filling my roster with good players, but making as many mistakes as possible. Somehow I end up even worse than the friend who accidentally picked two defenses in the first ten rounds (There is anonymity to protect him from eternal embarrassment). Still I was optimistic about week 1.

3. Picking the lineup.

After the draft, I have to pick nine players who I assume will play well, but probably will not. Some are no-brainers. Jeremy Hill was the lone bright spot in the dark abyss that is my lineup. But who do I start between Justin Forsett and the rebounding muscle hamster, Doug Martin? Trick question, they are both inept and get the same amount of points. There was no reason to bite my nails in agony at 12:53 like a middle school girl on her first date.

4. The opponent.

I knew I was going to win this week. Despite my obvious lack of skills, he had an extreme lack of knowledge. During the off season, I was analyzing Tom Brady’s Facebook posts, while he maybe, just maybe, heard about #deflategate on the news. It was so bad that I actually gave him advice when his tight end was injured. It’s my duty as Commish, and damn it if I will let myself win without honoring my obligations (I completely regret the decision). Somehow his lineup managed to storm past my mine like AP carrying San Fran defenders (Highlights don’t win me fantasy games). Now I have to deal with the taunts of my competitors about how I lost to the person who is oblivious to the games on Sunday. It hurts almost as bad as the time my grandmother said I had a weak throwing arm. Ouch.

5. Projections.

Projections are the fantasy football equivalent of God laughing at my plans. ESPN tells me I am going to win by twenty points when I actually lose by ten. Should I blame myself? Probably. Can I blame Eli for not throwing to ODB? Sure. But I will be blaming ESPN for giving me false hope every. single. week.

6. Adam Vinatieri.

The least reliable most reliable player. He missed one field goal all of last year, and he missed his first one of the year. Might want to get off to a better start next time. Not only did he miss, but he had negative points. A kicker getting negative points is a low blow that could only happen to me.

7. Watching the games.

Fantasy football has ruined football. Before, I only had to hope the Panthers would not lose, which isn’t much better. I could relax on the couch watching grown men attack each other over a piece of leather. But now I am on the edge of my seat. People say excitement is great, but it’s not. When I’m on the edge of my seat, my calves cramp up, much like Jeremy Maclin, and I can’t skip leg day. I’m even doing math during games. MATH. I thought was reserved for Norway to prove they have a better education system than the U.S. Whatever, we have football. But it also causes fights with my roommate. Oh, you have a test tomorrow? I think my yelling at Jimmy Graham is a bit more important.

8. Not watching the games.

Everybody can have a tough start to the season. But is it excusable? No. I don’t excuse myself or Julian Edelman, and I’m definitely not excusing the ESPN website for their data mistakes. There is nothing worse than relying on their system for game updates when they put up the wrong stats. It’s a disgrace to sports nerds everywhere.

9. Emotions.

You’d be surprised, but fantasy football makes guys more emotional than girls watching the Notebook on Valentine’s Day. The only caveat is that our emotion is unbridled aggression rather than incessant sobbing. Fantasy football might be my biggest emotional investment, seeing as I haven’t talked to a girl since my mom called. But here I am hoping that ODB’s new rumored relationship with Amber Rose doesn’t distract him, and I am considering breaking into MetLife Stadium to give Victor Cruz a knee massage.

10. Losing.

Clearly the worst part. I detest that devastating disappointment that I didn’t dominate, and the realization that my only skill is making absurd alliterations.

Therefore, I am tendering my resignation as the Commissioner of my fantasy football league. If I continue to play, I will simply feel like Charlie Brown trying to kick the football (still a better kicker than Vinatieri). I’m going to log off one last time before retiring. Wait, Tyler Eifert is a free agent? He could be a game changer. Maybe there’s a whole slew of waiver wire players that could improve my team. I’ll give it one more week.