These are the decisions… 

…that make you tear your hair out. I’m in a second-round playoff matchup, and I’ve been dwelling over my WR3 spot for the last half an hour. OK… probably more like an hour. Reading everything I can find about the two guys I’m thinking about filling it with. Pounding coffee to fend off the hangover from the three large glasses of Jack I had to drink last night in order to restore my sanity after seven unbearable hours of Christmas shopping. Knowing that no matter what I do, the guy I bench will score at least two touchdowns. It’s just been one of those seasons for me.

I’ve already had to stomach Rudi Johnson lighting up my flex spot with a whopping two points. I hate him with all my soul.

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