Strategies for surviving the Hot Wings challenge, the most effective tips for completing a beer mile, and the best footbridge from which to jump into the Charles. These were topics of conversation I found myself joining over the past week. Each is still hypothetical—for now. But in the coming months, some unfortunate soul may have to follow through.
Why? These prior examples are the natural consequence of one’s selected group of National Football League players underperforming in fantasy football.
For those entering a fantasy football league this fall—or, more urgently, for those already worried about finishing last—consider this guide to losing with as little humiliation and campus notoriety as possible should you choose to partake this season.
Like every upstanding American citizen, I have witnessed the cultural phenomenon that is fantasy football. However, I only recently took the time to understand how this game actually works. Participants—known as managers—draft real NFL players onto imaginary teams and compete each week based on those players’ actual on-field statistics, such as passing yards and touchdowns, rushing yards and touchdowns, receptions, and receiving yards.
The scale of the game is larger than I previously had assumed. According to an estimate based on Fantasy Sports & Gaming Association participation data, about 40 million Americans play fantasy football each year.
For many, money might be the most straightforward motivation for participating. Data collected from LeagueSafe places the average buy-in at about $55 per manager. In a 12-person winner-take-all league, that would create a nearly $700 pot before any platform or transaction fees. However, what makes joining a league a “swim at your own risk” event is a second aspect of fantasy football that has recently become popular: the price the loser must pay.
This practice, widely referred to as a “fantasy punishment,” is something I first heard about during my sophomore year of high school, after watching a member of the soccer team post a TikTok of himself pretending to run in place while aggressively lip-syncing and winking at the camera. This wasn’t the usual content for this student—in fact, after swiping to the account responsible for the video, I was horrified to find it was a debut post.
When I showed my friend, she explained that this artifact could only be the result of this student losing his fantasy football league, citing that it was nearing its official conclusion in late December as evidence.
Classic fantasy punishments typically include beer miles, 24-hour challenges at Waffle House (or some other ungodly location), and endless drinking on the loser’s tab. But on a college campus, the consequences tend to get more personal: punishments often draw on the particular aspects and places central to your school.
Right now, everyone I have spoken to on campus has some kind of consequence for an unfortunate chump whose dream team underperforms. Tales range from D-Hall dates with a life-sized doll and streaking through Dunster Courtyard to less severe consequences (although debatable), such as attempting to bypass Bon Lee at Leverett dinner without your ID. Multiple nefarious acts involving John Harvard’s statue have also been included (not what he died for, people).
Having recently taken it upon myself to learn more about the subject—out of curiosity and concern—I offer the following guidance on what to watch for to limit potential reputational damage.
First, I urge you to avoid any punishment too central to Harvard’s campus. As a college student, your entire life fits within a one-mile radius; on-campus punishments can be particularly damaging. Most likely, everyone—teachers, future employers, friends, opps, club members, and your current p-set collaborators—will take note of your actions.
Honestly, it benefits everyone to serve your time away from school. Some of the consequences I have heard of were heinous in a way that made me feel like anyone in your league who completed them would be a loss for the whole group (do you really want to be spotted hanging around with your friend who is widely known as the Harvard Statue Stripper?)
Additionally, we should all make a modest effort to protect our University’s name, as we have already received enough attention from the press lately. The last time we collectively appeared a little too comfortable, even the “New York Times” took notice, and now I am looking into med schools in the Caribbean. If Claybaugh sees too many of us roaming Cambridge in various states of fantasy-induced disgrace, it may be curtains for grades. So, please: keep it classy. With Harvard-Yale fast approaching—an encounter that feels like running into an ex who somehow still knows all your friends—it would not hurt to look polished, composed, and free of any behavior that could be repurposed as Bulldog propaganda.
This brings me to my next piece of advice: steer clear of punishments that involve social media (as described previously). I have already come across videos on TikTok and Instagram of punishments that took place as far back as 2016 and have since resurfaced as their anniversaries approach. Digitizing your punishment in any form means that it has no definite timeline.
Sidechat in particular seems to serve as a modern Paul Revere for these kinds of incidents, making every punishment that much more daunting.
Finally, even in defeat, always look for a way to incorporate alcohol or some other substance into your task. Not only will this improve your experience, but it will also make people more forgiving than you might imagine once they understand that your sobriety has been compromised. It just might save your life to keep even a few shooters on you while you serve out your sentence.
As a final word of comfort to those who suffer the fate of losing this season, whatever happens, you will be in good company—at least a million losers will be joining you.
Aurora Charbonneau ’29 (charbonneauaurora@college.harvard.edu) hopes everyone’s first-round pick stays healthy and everyone’s punishment stays off Sidechat.
