A Pack-less bye week was painful for many owners (Photo: Shawn Hubbard Photography)

God, I was so excited on draft day when I picked up my team full of Packers. That slightly dirty feeling I got my first few seasons when I had to play one of my fantasy guys against one of my real guys washed gently away as I stacked my team with green and gold. This crisp, clean feeling has lingered throughout the season as both my fantasy team and my Fantasy (capital F) team kick perpetual ass.

Right up until last weekend. The dreaded bye week.

I hadn’t thought this through at all. I was tempted to just eat the week. Leave my unbreakable force unbroken, lose 0-something huge and not care. My guys would stay together and we’d regroup the following week.

“Mere, that’s really stupid,” said my spirit animal. So we dropped and we picked up. It was painful, it filled me with guilt. I wondered what they were doing without me, without each other for this long weekend away.

Right up until my scrubs lit. It. Up.

Guys projected to get me 9 points got me 30! Guys who hadn’t really done shit all season—and were therefore languishing on the wire—all of a sudden remembered how to play. Let’s be honest, maybe they just hadn’t found the right fantasy team yet! And now, with the Hall Monitor as their GM, of COURSE they were able to find their inner Aaron Rodgers/James Jones/Mason Crosby/Packer defense and give me what I needed.

It’s like when your hot quarterback boyfriend has a game on prom night so you go with his first-chair trombonist brother, Marvin, instead. You think, “Sweet Mary, just let me get me through this night and I’ll get right back to Jaxon on Monday.” And then Marvin takes you to the restaurant you’ve always wanted to go to, he fills out his tux in a way that makes you imagine tromboning is really hard work, AND the kid can dance. Honestly, you’ll probably still go back to Jaxon on Monday, but you’ll always remember that magical weekend where Marvin Uptown Funked you up.

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Meredith Short
Writer, Packer Fan, Utterly Underqualified Fantasy Football Consultant. Growing up in Green Bay made Meredith into a life-long Packer devotee and consumer of cheese curds. She was a three-sport athlete until college and fancied herself a real sports aficionado—right up until the night she met her future husband, the Rainman of sports trivia. The same night she met Voodoo Brown, she fell for Chris, winner of beer pong, spouter of sports stats, and the only dude at the bar with a collared shirt. She tech writes for the government, has published a comic and a book, and writes grants for non-profits—qualifying her not one iota to write sports. Today, she watches football, engaged in the action and occasionally commenting on Jordy’s forearms or so-and-so having a pretty good season, while Chris runs phone, laptop, and multi-screen TV tracking every number trackable. And this year, they’re both playing fantasy. Will his hard work and savant status win out or will this be like Preakness 2004 when she picked every race based on cutest horse name or prettiest silk? And won. Watch and learn. Or at least watch.

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