Fantasized

I just got in from an epic drive around an early morning New England; more on that tomorrow. Keene Friend, Buddy and I traveled across New Hampshire yesterday to the commissioner’s house (jointly administered by my favorite son and the ABFA) for the annual family fantasy football draft. My son is once again serving as the league commissioner and tried gamely to move us into the computer age of the draft with middling results.

Meanwhile Wife and Panamanian Mafia Storm Maine

Before the draft took place we helped out in the yard by removing some pesky weeds and then tackling a rogue tree that had been allowed to flourish to the detriment of the tree the landscapers had originally placed. The fact that poison ivy surrounded the base of the tree only added to the quandary (it had Keene Friend and I backing off). The ABFA dad was soon climbing the tree and trimming the top cover back. I was truly impressed with the energy with which he attacked the bogus foliage. His enthusiasm was infective and I was soon circling the base of the tree and pulling down the offending branches he had freed from the base tree. By the end of the effort the ABFA had an impressive pile of brush at the base of her driveway and we were soaked. It was a lot of fun, as is any time hanging out with the ABFA and her parents, even if it’s in a tree. The original tree had emerged from the weed tree and while a little bedraggled from lack of sun was at least set up for future success.

ABFA's Dad at the top of the Tree While Keene Friend Watches from Safe Distance

My son had emphasized that we should not bring any beer with us since he was trying to decrease an impressive cache of same he acquired since moving into the house. I pledged my heartfelt support in reducing this onerous overstocking. By the time the draft was scheduled to start my sister, brother in law, and namesake nephew had arrived along with their two dogs, including Remy, a yellow lab puppy. Remy immediately decided his designated role in life was to torment Buddy from his standoffish posturing. There may be another, more charming dog than Remy, but I’ve never seen one. He was the true star of the show. Christmas is going to be fun.

The Commish in Front of Draft Board

My son had the draft board up on the computer and we were joined by my daughter and Wingman from California via video conferencing. The Wingman was in pretty dire straits since he had just arrived back yesterday morning and was still on shire-time. He rangered his way through the draft though while he and the commissioner made a running series of insults against the way the senior members of the league went about drafting. Apparently there is a “right” way to do it that we were sadly unaware of. That was part of the fun though, as is the time spent with everybody yesterday.

Peak of the Draft

Remy Charming the Commissioner

While I could really care less about the results (except for the pummeling I take from my uber-competitive wife/teammate) it was times like yesterday the league produces which makes it all worth it. While the dogs constantly milled about the draft room the jokes and jests flowed equally as constant. The Keene Friend launched a couple of his trademark dry comments on the process while my sister chimed in with her rapidly developing football “acumen”. The Cantankerous Friend is joining the league this year and was unavailable for the draft so he was auto-drafted which means his team gets the highest rated player available when his turn rolled around. The general consensus was that he ended up with the strongest team. My wife face timed in from Maine and I could tell she would rather have been with our group despite the shopping depredations I’m sure the Panamanian Mafia was inflicting on Maine.  

The Mafia in Maine

The Star of the Draft

The Five Minutes he Slowed Down to Rest

The draft ended all too soon but the fun continued with a backyard barbecue as Remy finally ran out of gas for all of five minutes before resuming his task of shadowing the Wonder Pooch. My sister attempted to take all three dogs out for a walk. She was rescued from her lapse in judgement by the ABFA and her mom. The best part of the day followed as we all sat around the living room as daylight fled all too soon. College football started in earnest, to rescue New England sports fans who’ve been suffering with the Fenway follies for so long. The group, sadly but invariably had to break up with the departures of my sister and her accompanying legion of dogs and excellence. As the Keene Friend and our hosts headed up for bed I found myself alone watching the last parts of the college football games. I had so much fun that I didn’t want the day to end, even though everybody that had made it so special had departed. I’m weird that way.

The Dogs Bringing the Gals Home form their Walk