Hope may spring eternal but reality will bite you like a cold Russian winter. My poor, poor fantasy football team has died for too young, not because it was good but because it was anything but.

It once seemed so promising. Ezekiel Elliot and Leonard Fournette made up my running game. The herculean Aaron Rogers was the quarterback for a second straight year and Stefan Diggs was heading up the wideouts. What on Earth could have gone so wrong? A lot, evidently.

Oh but it's not all their fault. I've spent many a night tossing and turning over my failure as a coach, the oh so many mistakes. I never should have drafted Evan Engram at tight end. I mean between Odell Beckham Jr. and Saquon Barkley, why did I think Eli would ever throw the ball to him?

I never should have started Captain Kirk Cousins against the Bills... come on, man! Never put Rogers on the bench. But who would have guessed someone had taken the time to teach Buffalo how to play football? How could I have known?

I drafted Josh Gordon. Why would anyone in their right mind draft Josh Gordon? Not even Tom Brady can save Josh Gordon and Tom Brady makes everyone look great. More importantly, why did I release and reacquire him on three separate occasions? Is that not Einstein's definition of insanity?

I dropped Matt Bryant because he looked startlingly similar to my philosophy professor. But it seems no one in the NFL bothered to add quality kickers anyway. A kicker! My kingdom for a kicker!

Ask me why I drafted Sam Darnold as my third quarterback. I don't have an answer so your guess is as good as mine. Does anyone really need three quarterbacks in the first place?

But every Sunday I weep when I see that dreaded red "O" for OUT, next to the name Fournette. I had such high hopes for the Jaguar with jackrabbit speed. Alas, my first round pick has spent more time in the E.R. than the gridiron and Adrian Peterson isn't what he used to be.

This is goodbye. Thanks for the memories... every maddening, heartbreaking, T.V. smashing, ESPN bashing memory. You will be missed and, if I'm lucky, quickly forgotten.