They sold us a savior. They gave him $28 million to disappear. This isn’t cap strategy — it’s The Usual Suspects with load management.

Six dynasties eat steak; the other twenty-four lick the plate and call it character. We did the math on fan suffering and started a support group anyway. Come recite the pledge and learn the One Blowout Grace Rule.

We all play fantasy football for fun. Let’s make sure your commissioner has fun too, and is not actively plotting your demise with every waking moment.

Draft night sells stories; year one sells receipts. From castle-proof to rotgut regrets, we pour each rookie and see who burns clean. Bring ice for your takes.

I blew calls at 16, my daughter stuck the landing at 9, and in both cases the loudest adults missed the point. The answer isn’t screaming at refs or handing out clone medals. It’s consequences with grace—and yes, I brought jokes.

Cooper Flagg is the headline; the story is how you become that headline. We set his curated grind against a nameless template of hunger and let the film decide what travels.

It starts with a tuxedo and ends with a flowerbed. Somewhere in between, Torsten rewrites the fantasy football commandments and maybe exorcises a few personal demons along the way.

Nature is a body-horror parade, and the NBA is full of players just as terrifying. From ear-burrowing wasps to playoff assassins, meet the creatures that haunt both ecosystems.