At my fantasy drafts back in August and September, whenever someone was hemming and hawing over who to pick, I often rather arrogantly shouted out “Alfred Morris is still available.” I generally was rewarded for my trash talk with some confusion, a couple of guffaws (unless it was the seventh or eighth time I brought up his name) or perhaps some ridicule. The drafter would usually roll his eyes and pick someone else.
Well, 1600 yards and 13 touchdowns later, Morris has made me look like a dumbass.
I had a fairly successful season this year. I won two leagues, took fifth place in a game-picking pool that included 167 participants and, most importantly, beat my brother in both our picks and bets segments (although admittedly the latter isn’t saying much).
But it is guys like Morris who make fantasy football challenging and who keep me from talking too much trash. They make deep research rewarding — and this year I failed. There was no greater “no name” getting selected in drafts as th...