OH, Sandusky!!! Fantasy Football — Est. 2017
Est. MMXVIIDraft Edition

The Sandusky Tribune

The Official Record of OH, Sandusky!!! — Printed Under the Watchful Eye of Jerry Sandusky

Vol. X, No. VWednesday, September 2, 2026 · Brigham City, UtahPrice: Free, as is the FAAB

The Backfield Is Stripped · A Table Crisis Is Averted · The Horse Remains Disputed

The Draft

Run on the Backfield

Keeper law strips the shelves; league bids on running backs like canned goods before a storm.

By The Draft Desk

Men in mid-century clothing clearing a grocery shelf of canned goods, rendered as a vintage newspaper halftone
Owners secure running backs, minutes after the market opened. Tribune wirephoto.

THE DRAFT ROOM — Six of the league's eight keepers were wide receivers. That meant six franchises walked in with their WR1 already under glass and nothing behind it, and everybody in the room knew it about everybody else. Five of the first eight picks were running backs. The position traded above sticker until somewhere around Round 6, when the panic ran out of running backs to panic about.

Nobody bought harder than the Good Ghandi's, who own the turn and used it on Chase Brown at eight and Kenneth Walker III at nine — no deliberation the record can detect. Jordan Israelsen has opened receiver-receiver in each of the last two drafts and hadn't gone back-to-back running backs since 2019. He has also, for three consecutive Decembers, publicly called upon the Riders of Rohan. This year he arrived at the draft and bought actual horses. Walker comes as the reigning Super Bowl MVP, freshly paid by Kansas City. The cavalry is real now, and the Tribune has cleared space for the Christmas post.

Mr. Israelsen's evening ran the full keyboard. Josh Allen at 24 tied the earliest quarterback call this league has made since 2018; with the final pick of the entire draft he took Jaxson Dart, who by consensus should have gone about 26 picks sooner. The night's worst reach and its best bargain, same man, three hours apart. Jazz.

The receivers everybody declined to pay for got paid anyway. In Round 7 the league selected eight consecutive wide receivers — the first single-position round in franchise history. For one full round, nobody could remember any other positions being legal.

Politics

Who Governs Sandusky?

An owner alleges the league is run from behind a curtain; the commissioner, asked to respond, discusses fate.

By The Politics Desk

THE DRAFT ROOM — Draft week produced 120 picks, three rule changes, and one constitutional crisis, and the crisis is the best-sourced of the three.

The allegation came in writing from Caden Didericksen of the Chubby Chasers, who told this paper he fears Jordan Israelsen "has already wormed his way into the commissioner's ear." Mr. Didericksen cites a pre-draft power struggle and the number of proposals Mr. Israelsen subsequently saw ratified. "I think we all saw who won that power struggle," the statement concludes, "and is now running our league."

The legislative record does not help the commissioner. Three rule changes passed at the pre-draft session — a longer pick clock for every owner except the commissioner, who was denied the extra time on the grounds that he would use it; a bench spot converted to a flex next season; and a new keeper deadline — and the Tribune could not locate anyone willing to say any of them had been the commissioner's idea.

Asked about the state of his administration, Commissioner Drake Oldham provided the following: "I feel like it's fate that I'm contending for the ship this year as the new commissioner. Some will call it vainglory, I call it knowing who you are." The statement did not address the allegation, the legislative record, or any question that had been asked.

Mr. Israelsen was offered the opportunity to deny the allegation. His exit interview, printed below, covers his draft, his roster, and his position on electoral reform, and does not mention the commissioner once — which is either innocence or exactly what a man running the league would submit.

Infrastructure

Table Crisis Averted

Seating commission convenes on the eve of the draft; owner pledges personal furniture.

By The Infrastructure Desk

Three folding tables and a few folding chairs in an otherwise empty room, photographed with harsh flash as a vintage press photo
The three secured tables, photographed prior to occupancy. A fourth was pledged and not required.

THE DRAFT ROOM — With the first pick bearing down, the league confronted the question it had put off all week: whether there would be anywhere to sit.

The concern was Ian Clark's. Mr. Clark, who has attended nine drafts and sat down at all of them, grew worried on the eve of the tenth that the host might not have enough tables, and let it be known — in the manner of a man who wants city hall to hear about a pothole without being the one who called it in.

A count was taken. Seven owners attending in person; three to four tables required, so folks could have some room. The host, Mitch Coombs, floated a bring-your-own-table policy, which was adopted, misread, and explained. Mr. Clark pledged that he would be arriving with his own table regardless. By Saturday afternoon Mr. Coombs had located three tables without assistance, and all pledged furniture became ceremonial. The eighth owner attended from inside the television and did not require a chair.

Tables received more discussion during draft week than any running back, and every one of them arrived on time.

From the Style Desk

On the Horse

The league adopts a new reaction. The style manual is unable to say what it means.

By The Style Desk

A formal nineteenth-century studio portrait of a horse in side profile, rendered in newspaper halftone
The reaction in question. Meaning disputed.

The league has adopted a new reaction this season — a small horse, applied to messages — and the Tribune's style manual cannot define it. One faction uses the horse to mean agreement, the way the plus sign used to. At least one senior official has since admitted he uses it to mean something less flattering about the recipient. The two horses are identical.

This has consequences. An owner who receives a horse now cannot tell whether he has been agreed with or insulted, and the only man who can clarify is the man who sent it, who — this being the league — will not. The publisher of this newspaper, asked to arbitrate, said that this is the beauty of art. That is not a ruling.

Until the league produces a definition, this paper will log every horse as "disputed." The Riders of Rohan could not be reached.

Exit Interviews

The Ownership Assesses Its Own Work

Responses printed as received, trimmed only where mercy demanded.

By The Tribune Desk

Jordan Israelsen · Good Ghandi's · defending runner-upMr. Israelsen's statement is a document of grief in three movements. On the draft: "Unfortunately, the draft did not fall to me how I needed it to. I immediately regretted picking Josh Allen where I did." The regret was on file before the next pick was announced, which is a franchise record. On his roster: he reports feeling "exposed at WR," the position his own doctrine had protected for years, right up until Saturday. On the system: Mr. Israelsen, who drafted eighth, has come out of the weekend an auction man and would like the draft order abolished. "I believe there is data," he writes, "that backs the assertion that certain draft positions have higher championship odds in given years." The data was not attached. No man has ever discovered a structural injustice while drafting first.

Thomas Leah · RLE Memorial · first-year ownerPrinted in full: "3 running backs in the first 5 rounds. The formula worked perfectly. Can't see how it could've gone better for me personally." The author has managed zero games. The franchise he inherited spent nine years perfecting non-contention. The formula in question — draft running backs in 2026 — was independently discovered by everyone in the room. His is nonetheless the only wholly satisfied statement the Tribune received, and it came from the one man with no record to be judged against.

Ian Clark · Tin Man · 2024 championPrinted in full: "It's been a long time since either the Seahawks didn't win the Super Bowl, or I wasn't the fantasy champion. So if both of those don't happen this year, check on me." The Tribune diagrammed this sentence three times and got a different man each time. What is certain: the Seahawks just won the Super Bowl, Mr. Clark last won this league in 2024, and he has requested a wellness check under conditions the grammar will not let us pin down. He has been added to the February visitation schedule regardless. He is asked to have his table ready.

Hayden Clegg · Cliff · attending remotelyPrinted in full: "I felt like a wall decoration. As a two time remote drafter, I don't like it." This is consistent with the paper's own reporting; the seating assessment counted seven attendees and classified the eighth as part of the television. The Infrastructure Desk regrets listing a two-time veteran of the format as a fixture. It notes in its defense that he was mounted at eye level, had a clear view of the room, and was the only owner present who could be muted.

Caden Didericksen · Chubby ChasersMr. Didericksen's statement runs several paragraphs; the Tribune has excerpted responsibly. He describes the commissioner's proposed in-season tournament as "a lose-lose scenario for me": lose it and he is a loser; win it and it will be declared meaningless by a man "flexing his 1 real championship and his 1 fake championship (does year 1 actually count?)." He then issues, unprompted, a formal position on a player nobody had mentioned: "never have the Chubby Chasers claimed that Quinshon Judkins is going to be amazing nor did any AI language model recommend keeping him." Nobody had asked about Quinshon Judkins. Nobody had asked about the language model either. He closes with scouting: "looking at Drakes roster going into a week 1 matchup, all I see are questions. (Literally there are 7 players with a questionable designation)."

Drake Oldham · The Emporium · commissionerPrinted in full: "Well I'm the best there is there's no question about it. I feel like it's fate that I'm contending for the ship this year as the new commissioner. Some will call it vainglory, I call it knowing who you are. Also Dites AI team is ass."

Mr. Didericksen's denial runs some two hundred words. The rebuttal runs five.

The Emporium

The Emporium Diversifies Into Kicking, Medicine

Drake Oldham drafts a kicker in Round 10, a defense in Round 11, and, with pick 116, a man with one working leg.

By The Draft Desk

The Emporium opened Christian McCaffrey, De'Von Achane, Ashton Jeanty — three running backs before drawing a breath, a formation Drake Oldham has fielded once before, in 2019, when he opened Le'Veon Bell, James Conner, and Nick Chubb and went 6-7.

The Emporium is also, by long consensus, the slowest desk in the room. The league lengthened the pick clock to four minutes this year for every owner except the commissioner, who was held at two on the grounds that he would use whatever he was given. He used all of it, every round, and by the double-digit rounds was visibly flustered — the sound of the draft by then was six men eating and one man exhaling at a laptop. Owners who have drafted beside him for a decade describe the Emporium's process as thorough, in the way a man is thorough when he has lost his keys.

This is the context for pick 77. Brandon Aubrey — Round 10, the earliest a kicker has gone in this league in six years — arrived while Sam LaPorta and George Kittle sat on the board unclaimed, and is best understood not as strategy but as a man who badly needed one pick he did not have to think about. The Texans defense followed at 84, presumably for the same reason.

Then came Round 14, the traditional specialist round, in which seven of eight selections league-wide were kickers and defenses. The exception — the only franchise to draft an actual football player that round — was the Emporium, which took Chuba Hubbard at a 28-pick discount, precisely because it had done its kicker shopping a month early, like a man smug at a Christmas party because he wrapped everything in October.

Then pick 116. Tyreek Hill: released by Miami, unsigned by anyone, eleven months and two surgeries removed from a dislocated knee that took the ACL, MCL, PCL, and patella with it. In late July Mr. Hill reported, in his own words, "no power in my left leg." He was drafted anyway, ahead of several men with power in both legs. The Emporium's medical staff could not be reached, does not exist, and would not have been consulted.

Markets

Natural Order Restored Within a Day

NFL suspends the champion’s RB1 the morning after he was drafted; league science reports all instruments returning to normal.

By The Markets Desk

THE DRAFT ROOM — League science has held for years that the Clan of Combs drafts a team that looks pathetic on paper and wins anyway — three titles, most in league history, each launched from a roster the room laughed at on the night. On Saturday the pattern broke. Mitch Coombs took Josh Jacobs at 34, installed his RB1 in Round 5, and left the building with a roster the room could only describe as "actually good." Nobody knew what the omen meant.

The universe did. By Sunday afternoon the NFL had placed Jacobs on the commissioner-exempt list over misdemeanor charges out of Brown County, Wisconsin, and the champion's team was once again, measurably and officially, worse. Instruments have returned to normal. This is the configuration from which he wins.

The waiver wire moved before anyone said sorry. Within hours the commissioner had spent 26 FAAB — better than a quarter of a season's budget — on Jacobs's backup, Marshawn Lloyd. Mr. Coombs bid nothing on the handcuff to his own starter and is understood to wish Lloyd a pleasant season on the Emporium's bench. By Monday the Emporium was reportedly shopping Lloyd to the one owner who could use him. No deal has materialized.

Ledger, for the record: the champion lost his RB1, paid nothing, and finished the weekend being courted. The commissioner lost nothing, paid 26, and finished the weekend holding a bench player whose value now depends on the Brown County district attorney. The desk declines to forecast. It notes only that one of these men has three rings and the other has Marshawn Lloyd.

Grading of this draft will commence when actual football is played, and not one minute before. Steals and busts named herein are accusations of taste, not of fact. The State of the Union remains unscheduled. All 120 picks are on file in the Draft Room.

The Sandusky Tribune is published at the solstice and whenever the league gives it reason. All quotations are real. All grievances are eternal. Maintained under the watchful eye of Jerry Sandusky.