Not because I want to. In fact, there are quite a few things I’d rather do instead: A root canal or a colonoscopy are two that come to mind.
But nevertheless, I have to go to a Kane Brown concert.
Because unfortunately… I lost the Whiskey Riff Fantasy Football league.
The season started off with such promise. In fact, I felt pretty good about my team, despite being #6 in the draft order… middle of the pack sucks.
I snagged Tom Brady to lead my team, and I managed to get Calvin Ridley and Mike Williams at WR, along with a solid RB lineup that included Derrick Henry (who magically fell to 6th) and Kareem Hunt.
Overall, not a bad team. And definitely not one that I expected to land me at the bottom of the league.
But any hope that I had at avoiding my horrific end-of-season fate quickly faded away. Ridley decided to step away from football after only 5 games. Kareem Hunt only played in 6 games before suffering a calf injury that sidelined him for most of the season.
I still had Derrick Henry though – and after a monster week 2 showing from him that got me 47 points (and my only win of the season) I thought I could hobble together enough decent players that Henry could do what he does for the Titans and put my team on his back to carry me to a few wins.
Then week 8 came. My hometown Titans were taking on the Indianapolis Colts, and after getting me only 6.8 fantasy points, Henry’s season (and mine) came to an abrupt end when he suffered a fracture in his foot that would sideline King Henry for the rest of the regular season.
I knew it was over. I knew there was no way that I could find enough good, available players in a 14-person league to dig me out of this massive hole I was in.
But I tried. Damn did I try. I was hitting the waiver wire HARD the last few weeks, desperate for a win that would save me from the bottom of the league and the horrible punishment that I was staring down the barrel of.
There were a lot of punishment ideas thrown around before the season started. Someone suggested that the loser would have to chug a gallon of milk and then run a marathon. Another was an embarrassing shirt that the loser would have to wear at all company functions. I threw out the idea of the loser doing the Waffle House challenge and live-tweeting it (might as well get some content out of it, right?)
And honestly I would have preferred any of those to the idea that we settled on: Loser has to attend a Kane Brown concert… by themselves.
So now, here I am, looking at Kane Brown’s tour schedule and picking out the date that I’m going to go to, alone, with nobody to blame but myself and the Fantasy Football gods that had no mercy on me.
I can’t think of anywhere that I would feel more out of place than at a Kane Brown concert, except maybe in a bodybuilding contest or a dry wedding.
But I’m a team player. I lost fair and square.
So I’m coming for you, Kane Brown. It’s just me and you, and the case of $15 tall boys that it’s going to take to get me through this.
Do I start listening to Kane Brown’s songs now just to prepare myself for what I’m going to have to go through? Or is that just putting myself through more unnecessary torture?
Can I take my headphones and listen to Charles Wesley Godwin during the show and pretend that I’m not living out my worst nightmare? Do I pick a show at a venue that has a bar I can post up at for the whole show? Is that even allowed?
I don’t even know how to handle this.
If you have any suggestion for getting through this punishment, feel free to shoot them my way. I’m open to ideas.
And to my Whiskey Riff colleagues: You can have your laughs now, but just wait till next season. I’ll get my revenge.