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It was ten minutes to midnight. 

In a broken-down semi-trailer somewhere in chilly northern Maine, where the Yahoo Fantasy Sports server farm operated, The Joey Wright sat, tied to a chair. A makeshift window had been cut in the metal of the semi-trailer, where he had a front-row seat to the impending destruction.

“You met me at a very weird time in my life, Joey,” a voice said in the darkness of the semi-trailer. 

Joey watched the steam from his breath float through the air. “Slide,” he thought to himself. It was the championship slide that did this.

“Who are you, really? Why are you doing this?” Joey asked, watching an LCD timer in the corner count down to 8 minutes. 

Stepping from the shadows, A Joey Wright put a hand on The Joey Wright. A chemical burn graced the top of the hand, in the shape of a kiss. 

“You had a good season, The Joey,” A Joey said. “But not all of us had good seasons. That server farm right there, that’s where all the Yahoo fantasy rankings are stored. The good players, the bad players, and everybody in-between. In 7 minutes, there’ll be no more good or bad players. We’ll all be equals. No more records. History, erased.” 

The Joey’s eyes opened wide and he tried to jump from the chair, but he toppled over and hit his head. Stars shot through his vision, his head chilled against the un-insulated floor that so many RazzBowlers had trampled on as they criss-crossed the country in search of the RazzBowl trophy. One More Time played in his head, a reminder of Stevens — the semi-driver — who had played it so lovingly for his human cargo. 

Five minutes to midnight. 

A Joey propped his alter ego back up and dusted off his head. “No point in missing out on the greatest moment in fantasy sports history,” he said. 

A knock came at the trailer door. 

“Hope you don’t mind, I invited some friends to watch,” A Joey said, stepping away. 

Four minutes to midnight. 

The beep of a 1970s calculator hit The Joey in the right ear. Then, a computer monitor slid into his view, the image of A.J. Dillon’s calves burned into the screen. 

“THE RAZZBOIS!” The Joey Wright shouted, knowing Rudy Gamble and Donkey Teeth had come to his rescue. 

Yet A Joey Wright appeared to The Joey Wright’s left, unharmed. Unhinged. Wearing a fedora and a silk blouse.

“On a long enough timeline, everybody wins a fantasy championship,” A Joey whispered into his alter ego’s ear before jumping out the makeshift window and disappearing into the winter night in Maine.

One minute to midnight. 

Rudy and Donkey Teeth untied The Joey Wright from his chair, but they all knew it was too late for the Yahoo Server Farm. 

Their breath fog in the midnight air turned to sparkles, a nebula resulting from the supernova explosion at the server farm.

“I think I can cancel my dynasty preview with Andy Behrens,” Donkey Teeth muttered. 

It was a New Year. The records were gone. The bold decisions, the hot taeks, the bad roster choices, they were all in the past now. 

“The average debris flight path on that explosion was 75 feet,” Rudy said, hammering away at his calculator. 

“What do we do now?” The Joey asked The Razzbois. 

Donkey Teeth cracked his knuckles, furrowed his brow, and pulled out his phone. 

Nothing to do but sign up for the 2021 RazzBowl now,” he said, watching the flaming wreckage of 2020 quietly disappear into the forests of Maine. 

The 2020 RazzBowl

You’ve probably heard by now, but in case you missed it, Jerry Janiga is our 2020 RazzBowl main event champion! 

And we’ve got a winner in our qualifier as well! 

I think DT sums everything up nicely in the tweets, so I’ll finish out with the usual reminder: if you liked what we did here, please support our work by getting an ad-free or premium subscription to one of the sport sites, telling friends about what we do, and dropping us a line down in the comments. 

Congratulations to the winners! 

I hope to see you again in the 2021 RazzBowl!Â