Dear Antonio,

Heading into this week’s first-round playoff matchup, I was cautiously optimistic that you would break out of your three-game slump this week when your team hosted the Raiders, against whom you put up a perfectly acceptable 58 yards and one touchdown in week 4. I didn’t watch last night’s game, because frankly, I can think of better things to do than watch your comically poorly-coached team take on the Raiders, who for the last half-decade have come with their own laugh track. But since you’re relatively healthy and the matchup was good, I felt pretty sure that I’d wake up this morning and be pleased with your contribution to my playoff success.

Instead, here’s what I found staring back at me. 

I drafted you in the fourth round and I hate myself for it. 

That last number on the right? The round one? That’s your fantasy point total. It also happens to be how many passes you caught out of the three that were thrown your way. 

I’m the #2 seed. If I lose to the #7 team because of you, I will – to borrow the words of the great Michael G. Tyson – eat your children.

Sincerely,
Someone who will now be benching you against Kansas City next week. KANSAS… CITY.

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