Willand vs Exmouth
People often say that there are only two certainties in life: death and taxes. While the quote, often misattributed to Benjamin Franklin, holds some truth, I’d submit a third lesser-known inevitability—if I pick a player for my Fantasy Football team, they’ll fail catastrophically.
Looking into the full range of my ill-fated transfers may cause undue distress to anyone with even a passing interest in the beautiful game, and a full rundown may take more words than the page allows, but here are my highlights from the last few weeks.
Further to upgrading Sanchez to my number one spot, Chelsea manager Enzo Maresca decided, perhaps for the first time since the storied days of Shilton and Clemence, to rotate his goalkeepers. Last week I made the fateful decision to drop Issak as my captain, only to look on in dismay as he amassed 32 points, while the man I replaced him with, Hojlund, gave me a net return of 2. Not to be outdone by my counterparts, I restored Newcastle’s top scorer to the captaincy this week, where he managed the least number of touches of any outfield player on his way to a score of 4, as my fiercest rival picked Wood (24).
And talking of Nottingham Forest, I recently dropped stalwart Ola Aina to the bench, where he unsurprisingly scored double the points the rest of my playing defence accumulated.
My list of personal mishaps goes on.
I’m genuinely not sure what brings me back every year to the arena; in a league with 60+ participants, I’m inevitably playing the role of the perennial punching bag, while paying for the privilege.
Perhaps it’s the same allure that drew those early pioneers of Fantasy Football to create their own leagues—an irresistible blend of hope, strategy, and the faint, tantalising promise of glory.
Fantasy football began life as a niche pastime. In 1962, a group of journalists and sports enthusiasts in Oakland, California, created the first fantasy gridiron football league, known as the GOPPPL (Greater Oakland Professional Pigskin Prognosticators League). Participants drafted real NFL players to create virtual teams, earning points based on their players’ real-life performances. It was a revolutionary idea—though it took decades to grow beyond a small circle of diehard fans.
The concept gained traction in the UK in the early 1990s, where the footballing landscape was ripe for innovation. The inaugural Fantasy Football League launched in 1991, aligning perfectly with the dawn of the Premier League in 1992. As television revenue brought glamour and accessibility to the game, fantasy football gave fans a more personal connection to the sport. Suddenly, you weren’t just supporting your team; you were tracking the fortunes of Alan Shearer, Eric Cantona, or Matt Le Tissier, even if they were playing for your fiercest rivals.
By the early 2000s, Fantasy Football had cemented itself as a cultural phenomenon. Websites made the game more accessible, removing the need for manual point calculations and complicated spreadsheets. The emergence of platforms like the Official Fantasy Premier League in 2002 turbocharged participation, drawing in millions of players from around the world. Today, over 11 million managers vie for glory each season, agonising over captaincy decisions and scouring fixture lists for the next bargain transfer.
The game’s evolution mirrors the rise of football as a global sport. The analytics revolution, powered by metrics like expected goals (xG) and heat maps, has turned Fantasy Football into a strategic battle. What started as a bit of fun has become a serious pursuit, with leagues, podcasts, and social media influencers dedicated to optimising every point.
Of course, for every success story, there’s someone like me—a manager perpetually trapped in the wrong end of the table. Still, that’s the beauty of Fantasy Football. It’s a game of hope and despair, of meticulous planning and sheer chaos. Much like the sport it reflects, it’s gloriously unpredictable. And, as I’ll no doubt convince myself come next season, maybe—just maybe—this will be my year.
Far away from the glamour of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (my FL League), football returned to Silver Street after an extended break with the visit of Devon counterparts Exmouth Town.
David Steele was without Ryan Guppy, who suffered a broken ankle in Falmouth’s visit on New Year’s Day, along with Allen and Rooke, who were both serving suspensions following their contentious sendings off in the same fixture. The manager was however able to welcome back Nathan Byrne and Bailey Kempster to the team, the latter returning on loan from Weston-Super-Mare.
Visitors Exmouth arrived at Silver Street looking to continue their push towards promotion on the back of an unbeaten start to 2025 that has seen them continue as the league’s form away side.
From the first whistle, it was clear that the visitors were the more settled unit, and they quickly set about their task, carving out a number of half chances against a resolute Willand defense without ever creating anything to warm up the nearly 300-strong crowd who braved the chilly conditions.
Willand’s best chance of the half fell in the 27th minute, a Wellington shot that was always sailing well wide, despite the acrobatics of Phillips in the Exmouth goal.
Despite the intensity and physicality on display, neither side could find the breakthrough before the interval, although the visitors would have been happier as the whistle finally blew after the officials found an extended and unexpected addition to the indicated two minutes of injury time.
Half Time – Willand 0 – Exmouth 0
David Steele made changes at the start of the second half, with Camilo and Kennell replacing Wellington and Price, but it was the visitors who took the lead minutes after the restart, when Steer delivered a pinpoint cross into the box, finding an unmarked Bath to score on his return to Silver Street.
Willand responded well to going behind, and while Swann came close to doubling Exmouth’s advantage with a darting run and a shot that whistled just past the far post, it was the home side who struck next.
On 65 minutes, new signing Kempster, who was, to the surprise of many, playing on the right wing, found himself in the right place at the right time to slot home the equaliser after an excellent cross from Hewitt on the left.
With parity restored, the final stages mirrored the early exchanges: a scrappy battle with plenty of effort but little in the way of clear-cut opportunities. As the referee signalled the end of proceedings, both sides were left reflecting on a hard-fought point in a fiercely contested derby.
As I was leaving Silver Street, it struck me that while there were no clean sheet bonuses or captaincy multipliers on offer, there was something undeniably rewarding about not caring about statistics, spreadsheets, or bonus points—just the pure, unfiltered joy of the beautiful game.
Full Time – Willand 1 – Exmouth 1
