There are very few things that I’ve ever wanted to do in this life more than win. I mean, I’ve wanted to live a happy, productive, life; I’ve wanted to make a difference in my community; I’ve wanted to treat people right and lead by example; but those are dreams that most decent people have. Apart from what I consider the obvious, I’ve wanted to win. And win, and win, and win some more. I wanted to win so much that I’d get sick of winning. (Despite the reference, I haven’t wanted to win by deporting brown people and/or stomping on the poor.) I’ve been pretty used to winning as well. High school, college, even the DSFL saw some pretty good records without much hardship competitively. There was a little, of course (getting knocked out in the first round of the playoffs as part of the Chicago Blues). But for the most part, winning has been a part of my life, and I’ve liked it that way.
To anyone who knows anything about my career, this has obviously changed of late. Getting drafted by the Yeti has been, in terms of my win totals, a complete and total upheaval, nay, reversal. Since I was drafted in season four, we have won a total of three games. That’s three games in three seasons. Correct me if my math is wrong, but that’s a 3-39 record. That’s a win percentage of 0.07. We only win seven percent of the time we take the field. I don’t like that. It is not a fun part of playing this game for me. I like to win, and I’ve done practically none of it for the past three seasons.
So that leads to the obvious and inevitable question: Why am I still a Yeti? Hell, I even signed an extension with this team, and I’m here through season nine. Given my interest in winning, it doesn’t make much sense to stay on a team where winning is as rare as a diamond (which is to say, not all that rare, but its value has been artificially inflated by the industry).
The first reason is loyalty. I believe strongly in it. The Yeti drafted me and gave me my first shot here in the NSFL. That initial three-year contract is a nice way to repay them, but I feel like I owe them more than that, more than the bare minimum. Of course, that’s if they want to keep me, which it seems like they do. These players and these GMs have been exorbitantly welcoming since my first day in the locker room. I honestly believe that there is not a locker room in the NSFL that’s better than this one. This brings me to my next reason for staying.
The culture in the locker room is a great one. In addition to breeding loyalty in players like me, it’s generally just a fun place to be. From the lighthearted conversations about sports and school to the more serious ones about player builds and even gun control and mental health, we have not had a single blow up, a single unkind word said about a teammate. Through adversity and triumph (the precious little that there’s been), this has never been anything but a kind, safe, supportive place for any of us to be. It’s a great feeling, and every time we have a good long chat makes me more comfortable in my decision to stay here.
The third reason I’m here is one that will take a little time to mature. I want the excitement of sticking it out through a rebuild. We’re not winning right now; that much is obvious. But at some point over the course of my (hopefully long) career, we will start winning. And it’s going to be that much sweeter when we do. Sure, there would have been some appeal in getting drafted by a powerhouse like the Otters or (at the time) the Outlaws. It would have been great to come in and win right away, and I’m sure the locker rooms and the guys and gals on those teams are great. But if you start winning and then stop, it’s a much worse feeling than starting off losing and then going on to win. Basically, I’m glad I didn’t get spoiled right away.
So this leads us to the fourth and final reason that I’ve decided to stay with the Yeti. This is an aspect of the organization that I truly believe is unique to this team, and is something I may not get at all in any other locker room. The opportunity that I’m given here in Colorado is the chance to have a voice. And I don’t mean in a, “Let’s all vote on the names of our offensive line bots,” kind of voice (though we did do that, haha). I mean a real voice to help shape the culture and direction of this franchise. This has been completely the doing of the management here in this locker room, and I’m eternally grateful for the opportunity I’ve been given. Allow me to elaborate.
First of all, the reason I mention this idea that my GMs have come up with is that I believe it’s something that other organizations could truly benefit from, if they don’t have such a system in place already. Meme Maestro and Matthew Vincent, our fearless leaders, have set up a captaincy system, in which some of our veteran players have a direct chat channel to both each other and the GMs. I am lucky to be a part of such a channel, as I was awarded a defensive captaincy role earlier this season. (If you’re at all familiar with our team, you probably know who the other players included in the captains’ chat are.) In this chat, the captains are asked -- sometimes on behalf of the other players, and sometimes not -- for opinions on big picture questions. Would you welcome person X into the locker room? What are your thoughts on prospect Y? Should we be looking to the distant future, or would we rather be making moves now? Of course, the answers to these questions remain firmly in the demesnes of the GMs. But we have real conversations. Our input is valuable. And sometimes, it even sways what the organization was thinking before getting feedback from the players. Personally, I love researching free agents and prospects, and I get to present my findings directly to the organization heads, where we can discuss methodology, potential flaws, and eventually, results and actions. There have legitimately been players and prospects that were in the eye of management, but the players decided they would be a bad fit, and those players were not pursued. We’re committed to keeping all of our players happy, and for me, a huge part of that happiness is being heard.
Of course, the idea of giving players direct channels to management may not seem that revolutionary. After all, we can all send personal messages to our GMs whenever we want. But what Meme and Matthew have done is essentially set up a focus group. We all are able to talk, simultaneously, and bounce ideas off of one another, instead of multiple conversations happening in a vacuum. This is the brilliance of the plan. We’re all able to act as mini-GMs if we want to, and some of us very, very much do want just that.
This is also related to the youth on our team. With the veteran leadership on other teams, there is little chance that I would be given an in, so to speak, with the higher ups. But since we are such a young team, and since our leadership is not so established as having been in their positions since season two or three, our younger players have an opportunity to shine. Right off the bat, you can (and very much will) hear impactful sentiments from players like Dwayne Aaron and Carlito Crush. And those of us with the propensity to take advantage of this opportunity benefit greatly. I’d like to think the team benefits from this system as well.
Honestly, this final reason for remaining in Colorado -- the captains’ organization -- is a bit of a selfish one. I want to have a say, and here, I get that chance. On the Otters (and other teams, I’m sure; I don’t mean to single anyone out negatively), they have so much of a veteran presence that I’m not sure I would be afforded a voice with the volume of some of the others. I like to get involved behind the scenes of this league, as well as in the front of it. I like to think that part of our team’s success or (more often these days) failure rests with me. Even if we’re not succeeding, we’re doing it as an organization. There’s no threat to overthrow the management, because we’re all management. We’re all on board with the plan, whatever that may be. Even if we don’t like a decision or a direction from the start, we all get on board before changes are made. I like the way this is organized, and I’d like for other people in this league to have the same opportunity. This offseason and draft has involved so much high level conversation and strategy among all of us that it’s truly the most fun I’ve had since first joining the league. Even if I’m not the highest TPE earner in the world (though I think I do pretty well), I can still make a difference, and that’s what I’m here for.
To make a difference.
Thanks for reading.
Haruki Ishigawa
To anyone who knows anything about my career, this has obviously changed of late. Getting drafted by the Yeti has been, in terms of my win totals, a complete and total upheaval, nay, reversal. Since I was drafted in season four, we have won a total of three games. That’s three games in three seasons. Correct me if my math is wrong, but that’s a 3-39 record. That’s a win percentage of 0.07. We only win seven percent of the time we take the field. I don’t like that. It is not a fun part of playing this game for me. I like to win, and I’ve done practically none of it for the past three seasons.
So that leads to the obvious and inevitable question: Why am I still a Yeti? Hell, I even signed an extension with this team, and I’m here through season nine. Given my interest in winning, it doesn’t make much sense to stay on a team where winning is as rare as a diamond (which is to say, not all that rare, but its value has been artificially inflated by the industry).
The first reason is loyalty. I believe strongly in it. The Yeti drafted me and gave me my first shot here in the NSFL. That initial three-year contract is a nice way to repay them, but I feel like I owe them more than that, more than the bare minimum. Of course, that’s if they want to keep me, which it seems like they do. These players and these GMs have been exorbitantly welcoming since my first day in the locker room. I honestly believe that there is not a locker room in the NSFL that’s better than this one. This brings me to my next reason for staying.
The culture in the locker room is a great one. In addition to breeding loyalty in players like me, it’s generally just a fun place to be. From the lighthearted conversations about sports and school to the more serious ones about player builds and even gun control and mental health, we have not had a single blow up, a single unkind word said about a teammate. Through adversity and triumph (the precious little that there’s been), this has never been anything but a kind, safe, supportive place for any of us to be. It’s a great feeling, and every time we have a good long chat makes me more comfortable in my decision to stay here.
The third reason I’m here is one that will take a little time to mature. I want the excitement of sticking it out through a rebuild. We’re not winning right now; that much is obvious. But at some point over the course of my (hopefully long) career, we will start winning. And it’s going to be that much sweeter when we do. Sure, there would have been some appeal in getting drafted by a powerhouse like the Otters or (at the time) the Outlaws. It would have been great to come in and win right away, and I’m sure the locker rooms and the guys and gals on those teams are great. But if you start winning and then stop, it’s a much worse feeling than starting off losing and then going on to win. Basically, I’m glad I didn’t get spoiled right away.
So this leads us to the fourth and final reason that I’ve decided to stay with the Yeti. This is an aspect of the organization that I truly believe is unique to this team, and is something I may not get at all in any other locker room. The opportunity that I’m given here in Colorado is the chance to have a voice. And I don’t mean in a, “Let’s all vote on the names of our offensive line bots,” kind of voice (though we did do that, haha). I mean a real voice to help shape the culture and direction of this franchise. This has been completely the doing of the management here in this locker room, and I’m eternally grateful for the opportunity I’ve been given. Allow me to elaborate.
First of all, the reason I mention this idea that my GMs have come up with is that I believe it’s something that other organizations could truly benefit from, if they don’t have such a system in place already. Meme Maestro and Matthew Vincent, our fearless leaders, have set up a captaincy system, in which some of our veteran players have a direct chat channel to both each other and the GMs. I am lucky to be a part of such a channel, as I was awarded a defensive captaincy role earlier this season. (If you’re at all familiar with our team, you probably know who the other players included in the captains’ chat are.) In this chat, the captains are asked -- sometimes on behalf of the other players, and sometimes not -- for opinions on big picture questions. Would you welcome person X into the locker room? What are your thoughts on prospect Y? Should we be looking to the distant future, or would we rather be making moves now? Of course, the answers to these questions remain firmly in the demesnes of the GMs. But we have real conversations. Our input is valuable. And sometimes, it even sways what the organization was thinking before getting feedback from the players. Personally, I love researching free agents and prospects, and I get to present my findings directly to the organization heads, where we can discuss methodology, potential flaws, and eventually, results and actions. There have legitimately been players and prospects that were in the eye of management, but the players decided they would be a bad fit, and those players were not pursued. We’re committed to keeping all of our players happy, and for me, a huge part of that happiness is being heard.
Of course, the idea of giving players direct channels to management may not seem that revolutionary. After all, we can all send personal messages to our GMs whenever we want. But what Meme and Matthew have done is essentially set up a focus group. We all are able to talk, simultaneously, and bounce ideas off of one another, instead of multiple conversations happening in a vacuum. This is the brilliance of the plan. We’re all able to act as mini-GMs if we want to, and some of us very, very much do want just that.
This is also related to the youth on our team. With the veteran leadership on other teams, there is little chance that I would be given an in, so to speak, with the higher ups. But since we are such a young team, and since our leadership is not so established as having been in their positions since season two or three, our younger players have an opportunity to shine. Right off the bat, you can (and very much will) hear impactful sentiments from players like Dwayne Aaron and Carlito Crush. And those of us with the propensity to take advantage of this opportunity benefit greatly. I’d like to think the team benefits from this system as well.
Honestly, this final reason for remaining in Colorado -- the captains’ organization -- is a bit of a selfish one. I want to have a say, and here, I get that chance. On the Otters (and other teams, I’m sure; I don’t mean to single anyone out negatively), they have so much of a veteran presence that I’m not sure I would be afforded a voice with the volume of some of the others. I like to get involved behind the scenes of this league, as well as in the front of it. I like to think that part of our team’s success or (more often these days) failure rests with me. Even if we’re not succeeding, we’re doing it as an organization. There’s no threat to overthrow the management, because we’re all management. We’re all on board with the plan, whatever that may be. Even if we don’t like a decision or a direction from the start, we all get on board before changes are made. I like the way this is organized, and I’d like for other people in this league to have the same opportunity. This offseason and draft has involved so much high level conversation and strategy among all of us that it’s truly the most fun I’ve had since first joining the league. Even if I’m not the highest TPE earner in the world (though I think I do pretty well), I can still make a difference, and that’s what I’m here for.
To make a difference.
Thanks for reading.
Haruki Ishigawa
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