The Commissioner Abdicates
Citing the humiliation of the Republic on Monday night futébol, Caden Diderickson surrenders the gavel — and discloses, in a final paragraph, that its powers were already handed to Drake Oldham. In secret. As an experiment.
By Kyle Andrus · Tribune Staff · former commissioner

BRIGHAM CITY — The commissionership of OH, Sandusky!!! is vacant. Or it is occupied. Both readings are presently available, and the league is availing itself of both. On Tuesday a letter over the signature of the Chubby Chasers — the standard of Commissioner Caden Diderickson — declared the office surrendered, effective immediately, in consequence of Monday evening's events on the futébol pitch.
The letter does not equivocate about its causes. "Yesterday, our nation suffered a humiliation," it reads. "For the first time in our great nations history, the USA was decimated by a foreign nation on the holy night that is Monday night futébol."
The Tribune notes, for the permanent record, that Mr. Diderickson did not play in the match, did not coach the side, and holds no position of any kind with the federation. He has resigned anyway. "I am ashamed and humiliated that God's blessed lands suffered this travesty on my watch as commissioner of the Free Sandusky fantasy football league," he writes. This paper possesses no charter for any body called the Free Sandusky fantasy football league. It has elected to assume he means us.
“I surrender my powers.”— The Chubby Chasers, instrument of abdication
On the mechanics of departure the letter is emphatic, if not strictly grammatical. Mr. Diderickson pledges to "own the consequences as commissioner of this fine league, acknowledge my shortcomings, and secede my rule as commissioner of this great league." The copy desk observes that to secede is to withdraw from a union, while to cede is to give a thing up, and has concluded after deliberation that the Commissioner intends both.
There is gratitude in the document. "I am grateful for the opportunity to have served this fine league," Mr. Diderickson writes. "It was a true honor." Of his plans in private life he is equally direct: "I hope to return to my roots— making memes about the league and talking shit."
Readers of the solstice number will recognize the ambition. Mr. Diderickson announced the same retirement to this paper barely three weeks ago, describing meme-making at the time as honest work. His retirement plans, unlike his commission, have proven durable.
It is the letter's final movement that carried the league past mourning and into what constitutional scholars would call, if the league retained any, a crisis. "Also, there is something that you all should know…" it begins — and what follows is reported in full under Succession, this page.
As of press time, no member of the league had been reached for comment, principally because the Tribune did not attempt to reach any. The gavel itself could not be located.

