Miniature Fiction

Josie had taken her fantasy football draft preparation to an entirely new level. She wanted desperately to go beyond the mundane study of average draft positions and viable draft strategies; she wanted to understand the decision making process. It hardly surprised Jodie to find herself stooped over her husband’s lifeless body, poking and prodding at the grey mush of his brain, looking for any insight into how the stupid thing worked.

- C.D. Carter

Check out C.D. Carter’s new facebook page promoting his forthcoming ebook How To Think Like a Fantasy Football Winner

It was like a scene from a gladiator flick, with blood and teeth flying every which way in slow motion because, well, Denny’s body was flooded with adrenaline, as it always had been at the thought of seeking revenge against the fantasy football league members who had caused him such unknowable angst over all these years. There were people with rusty butcher knives sunken deep in their gut, screaming to the heavens for death, people with chains squeezed around their breaking necks, people with ribs pulverized by the massive blows of brass knuckles, and all Denny could think was, God, I hope Malcolm Floyd is available late — dude could be a stud.

- C.D. Carter

The basement was full of killers: Andy with his customized spiked brass knuckles; Victor gripping his trusty machete; Evan cradling his whipping chain; Sam gripping a duo of rusty butcher knives; Pat with his bear mace in hand. My God, Denny thought as he descended into the basement, this is the day our fantasy football threats come nightmarishly true.

- C.D. Carter

Guest C.D. Carter with another entry that seriously stretched the boundaries of what I’m willing to publish. Maybe next year Miniature Fiction can undergo a format change to be stories under 500 words…. 

Follow @CDCarter13 and check out his new ebook on the Kindle Store Here

He hadn’t watched a game in its purest form for so very long. It was strange, sitting there on the couch, watching a contest the way it was meant to be seen: through the lens of winning and losing, of strategy and lucky bounces and competitiveness that sent grown men headlong into each other, breaking bones and bruising brains with no consideration for tomorrow. He did not root for the offense to stall at the thirty yard line so his kicker could collect four points, because this was reality.

- C.D. Carter

Carter is also a contributing writer for Sportsjerks.net, a fantasy football site, and frequently discusses the minutia of pretend pigskin on Twitter @CDCarter13

We bought a state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line, terribly overpriced noise machine for the baby’s room, a recommended purchase for any parent hoping to replicate the comfort of the womb for their sleepless bundle of joy. I lie there in bed one night, so tired I couldn’t sleep, the baby monitor nearby, when I first heard the words of advice speak to me from somewhere in the simulated rain sounds of the infant’s noise machine. Barely audible, I strained to listen to every syllable whispering beneath the burst of sound, and finally heard its message: “Draft Lamar Miller.”

- C.D. Carter

C.D. Carter is a reporter, author of zombie stories, writer for The Fake Football and Sports Jerks. Fantasy Sports Writers Association member. His work  has been featured in the New York Times. Follow C.D. on Twitter @CDCarter13

C.D. Carter has also recently been writing about how poker can be applied to fantasy sports, check it out… Poker Lessons Applied to Fantasy Football

“Frank, look, everything’s fine, I’m OK. I appreciate your concern, and before you fret, let me run down what I did yesterday: I pored over the average draft positions for the top 200 players, focused on sleeper running backs playing behind starters who have missed five or more games every season since 2009, shifted over to wide receiver targets from 2010 and 2011, dissected drop rate among the top-ten receivers, examined a list of tight ends who blocked at the line of scrimmage in less than 20 percent of plays last season, and finished the day with five mock drafts in which I employed a personalized tiered ranking system based on ADP, VBD, and, of course, personal preference. So just relax, Frank, I’m perfectly, wonderfully fine.” 

- C.D. Carter

Follow @CDCarter13

She admired him, the way he had toiled deep into the wee hours of the morning, almost every day, eschewing sleep and food and — sadly — companionship for what he said would be a fantasy football strategy book that would change the stupid little game forever. He worked so hard for those few weeks, like a man building a railroad one spike at a time, all by his lonesome in the scorching heat under a cloudless sky. It was a little past 1 a.m. on a Saturday night when she sneaked into his office, tipsy from the night’s wine-fest, and read the laptop screen over his shoulder: “I hate fantasy football I hate fantasy football I hate fantasy football I hate fantasy football,” it said, over and over and over again, insane ramblings in thousands of repetitions that snatched away her breath.

- C.D. Carter

Frequent guest C.D. Carter really is writing a little book about fantasy football strategy… so hopefully this is not based on a true story.

The Almighty, her golden eyes blazing, had come to me in a dream; or rather, a hallucination in the predawn hours, as first light crept across my bed. She said in a voice laced with sweet sorrow, “Go forth and vanquish those who dare write about fantasy football in the spring, for they are an abomination unto me, and their obsession shall not be tolerated in this world or any other.” I’ve crossed eight of these fantasy fiends off my list, their blood spilled and their pens stopped forever, ridding springtime of the heinous number crunching that is the hallmark of these unnatural things, these fake football writers.

- C.D. Carter

Follow frequent guest C.D. Carter on twitter at @CDCarter13

The mock fantasy football draft — a practice draft — was finally, mercifully over, the insulting back-and-forth finally finished, plumes of smoke billowing from the guns of their mutual hatred. But Gary had said something late in that fake draft that Pete could not forget: he had insulted Pete’s hair, the very pride of his life, the reason for waking. As if his feet had decided for him, Pete was out of bed, dressed, and walking the seven miles to Gary’s house, where Gary’s wife would soon be snuggling a bloody corpse with a frozen look of absolute horror.

- C.D. Carter

Follow @CDCarter13

“Use your powers for good,” she said to him as he wrote real words about a fake sport while children went to bed with the burn of an empty belly and women wept from the pain inflicted by the men who were supposed to love them and titans of industry contributed nothing to the general welfare and ravaged every last resource in the name of God and country so they could buy that fifth home, and a sixth one, and a 14th car, just for good measure. He wrote about a stupid game while honest people worked until they were dead from it and dishonest people never worked and lived the lives of gluttons while laughingly dismissing the honest workers as leeches and ticks feeding off the blood of the gluttons; he wrote and wrote and wrote while the world carried on in the only way it ever has: With ceaseless injustice and pain and agony everywhere, in every crevice of every life, with no reprieve anywhere, for anyone. But now, words about C.J. Spiller needed to be written, and quickly.

- C.D. Carter

C.D. Carter is a reporter, author of zombie stories, writer for The Fake Football and Sports Jerks. Fantasy Sports Writers Association member. His work  has been featured in the New York Times. Follow C.D. on Twitter @CDCarter13

C.D. Carter has also recently been writing about how poker can be applied to fantasy sports, check it out… Poker Lessons Applied to Fantasy Football

Check out C.D. Carter’s Amazon page for more of his fiction writing goodness Amazon.com

I’m not sure why some people are stuck in the dark ages, basing their decisions on gut feelings and emotions. We’re past all that, we’ve entered an age of enlightenment. Fantasy football is now a science and there’s no more need for all of this mumbo jumbo.

With every tick of the digital scoreboard glowing from its home on the laptop screen, the degenerate’s pulse quickened, beads of sweat surfaced on his brow and his upper lip and his quivering palms. These next few minutes, near midnight on a Friday, would determine whether the degenerate could pay the mortgage on Monday morning, to keep his family warm and sheltered from the bitter winter howling outside their bedroom windows. It all depended on someone named Damian Lillard, apparently an NBA point guard, and whether he could trump the daily fantasy juggernaut pouring on the points in a head-to-head duo that night; and God Almighty, how that made the degenerate feel alive, so horribly, painfully, acutely alive.

- C.D. Carter 

Follow this frequent guest on the twitter machine @CDCarter13 

And check out his kindle ebook Fantasy Football’s Fertile Ground 

The evil Feds had shut down all my online outlets for gambling, leaving me to suffer through withdrawal by myself in my meager apartment. Then I discovered Fan Duel, where I could legally bet on player performances instead of the game outcomes. Gambling, even better because it was federally sanctioned, had returned to my life and I was happy… at least as happy as I’m capable of being.

Frank was becoming seriously afraid for his friend; afraid, sad and disgusted. The fantasy football season was months away, but his friend David spent at least 5 hours a day studying, mock drafting and making notes. Frank decided he had to help David, so he changed all of David’s passwords to every sports website, changed all of his email passwords, kidnapped him and dropped him off at a homeless shelter all in the name of forcing David to take a break from internet football.