Catching grief is part of the gig when writing about fantasy football.
After doing this for about a decade, it doesn’t faze me. Even the most well-research hot take can be lambasted with a meme take. “Best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” I don’t take it personally.
And, look, if I was right even 60% of the time on my NFL musings, I’d be between mai tais, living on a golf course on an island at some faraway beach resort, calling in my bets to some personal sportsbook contact I’ve got on speed-dial while getting pampered and massaged with expensive oils and extracts.