Week 1: Schedule merchants

BALLERS ONLY! FIRST! RATE! TAKE! Your team. Your fault.

Week one is over. Seven winners. Seven losers. And Greek Freak has already demonstrated that you can be both.

Welcome to First Rate Take. The draft-night confidence has been repossessed. Let's look at what you idiots actually did.

Glass Factory: twelve hundred and seventy-eight. Highest score in the league. Dwayne beat Brooklyn Kings by a hundred and eighty-three.

You took Jokic first overall. Jokic gave you a hundred and six. Ty Jerome gave you a hundred and sixty-five.

You bought a Ferrari, and a man on a bicycle towed it to victory.

Enjoy the view from first, Dwayne. After finishing twelfth last season, you must be wondering why the air smells different up here.

Brooklyn Kings scored ten ninety-five and still took the biggest ass-kicking of the week.

Commissioner Surin built an entire fantasy league so Dwayne could come over and beat him up in it.

Giannis. Zion. All that muscle, and Glass Factory used you as a fucking welcome mat.

Brooklyn Kings? Your Majesty, the peasants have taken the castle. They're changing the Wi-Fi password.

Astoria Professors beat Gimmie The Loot, eleven seventy-seven to ten eighty-five. Sabonis put up a hundred and fifty-three. Kessler added a hundred and thirty-five.

A ninety-two-point win. A good start. The next five months are us trying to make John shut the fuck up about it.

Second-highest score. We are now one week into a six-month lecture.

John won sixteen games last season and finished fifth. He's already back to his greatest sport: being right in October.

Gimmie The Loot, Tyrese Maxey scored TWO HUNDRED. Most fantasy points by any player in the league this week.

And you lost.

Maxey did that much work and still had to watch the Professors take your lunch money.

You know when two people move a couch, and one guy somehow does all the lifting?

Maxey was on the stairs. The rest of your roster was holding the fucking door.

Gimmie The Loot. Maxey would like his labor back.

The defending champion beat Pulling From Deep, eleven oh-three to nine eighty-six.

Haliburton gave Jamel a hundred and fifty-one. Embiid chipped in a hundred and twenty-one. One waiver acquisition all week.

The man barely visited the help desk and still won by a hundred and seventeen.

But let's relax, champ. Four teams outscored you. You're fifth in scoring and dangerously close to giving an acceptance speech for beating Pulling From Deep.

Pulling From Deep scored nine eighty-six. Cade gave you a hundred and thirty-four. Amen added a hundred and twenty-five. Still lost to Jamel.

You went pulling from deep and came back with a shopping cart and one wet sneaker.

Eighth place last season. Ninth in scoring this week.

An entire offseason, a fresh draft, four waiver acquisitions, and you've successfully moved one parking space farther from relevance.

The Babycakes beat Brooklyn MuTONEbo, ten thirty-two to nine sixty-one. Zero waiver acquisitions.

Didn't even need fresh ingredients. TONE got cooked with whatever was already in the cupboard.

Dyson Daniels put up a hundred and forty-four. The Babycakes put another win on the board.

Third place in twenty twenty-five. Third place in twenty twenty-six.

If this league ever introduces a championship for finishing third, you will somehow finish third in that too.

TONE. You drafted Wemby, Bam and Duren with your first three picks, then lost to The Babycakes by seventy-one.

All that height, and you still couldn't look down on them.

Wemby gave you a hundred and thirty. Duren gave you sixty-three. The skyscraper is open, and the elevator goes straight to oh-and-one.

You built this team to block everything. Unfortunately, nobody could block this episode.

Antonios's Angry Team won, nine eighty-one to eight thirty-six.

Tenth-highest score in the league. One-and-oh.

Pulling From Deep scored five more points than you and lost. Antonios is walking out with the same record as Dwayne.

Jaylen Brown gave you a hundred and forty-four. Fox gave you a hundred and thirty-two.

Your best performer was whoever put Jermaine on the fucking schedule.

Jermaine's Finest Team. Eight hundred and thirty-six. Second-lowest score in the league.

Six waiver acquisitions. Used the entire allowance.

Jermaine clicked Add six times, and ESPN still wouldn't let him add a win.

Jalen Johnson gave you a hundred and fifty-eight. He deserves to be allowed to list this as community service.

Five and fifteen last season. Oh-and-one to start this one.

If this is your finest team, keep the others off the fucking internet.

Astoria Hoops beat NYC Above The Rim, eleven twenty-one to eleven oh-eight. Thirteen points.

Petridis had a thirty-four-point lead going into Sunday. Lateef cut it to thirteen. Mike got the win with teeth marks on it.

Thirty-two regular-season wins across the last two seasons. Zero titles.

This man collects regular-season wins like supermarket points, then gets to the playoffs and finds out the trophy isn't a participating item.

Congratulations, Mike. Another coupon.

Lateef scored eleven oh-eight. Fourth-highest total in the league. Enough to beat ten of the thirteen other teams.

Still oh-and-one.

Luka gave you a hundred and sixty-two. Trae added a hundred and twenty-nine. You lost by thirteen to Astoria Hoops.

You scored two hundred and twenty-nine more than Greek Freak. Greek won. You lost.

Somewhere there's a fantasy league rewarding merit. Unfortunately, you joined this fucking one.

Greek Freak! One-and-oh! Cue the parade!

Eight hundred and seventy-nine points.

Stop the parade.

Only two teams in the entire league scored less than you: Jermaine and Hiawatha. You got Hiawatha.

Two managers. Eight seventy-nine. That's four hundred and thirty-nine and a half points per brain.

Shai gave you a hundred and fifty. Harden gave you forty-eight. Aris and Dan gave us a masterclass in standing near someone worse.

Put Hiawatha in your thank-you speech and stop fucking grinning.

Hiawatha's Heated Team. Seven hundred and fifty-two. Dead last.

LeBron gave you a hundred and six. Steph gave you sixty-four. Draymond gave you thirty-seven.

Two hundred and seven combined. Maxey scored two hundred by himself.

You put both sides of the twenty-sixteen Finals on one roster and beat one guy by seven points.

Six waiver acquisitions available. Zero used.

The room was on fire, and you kept the extinguisher in mint condition.

Get your ass on the waiver wire. The basement isn't a rent-controlled apartment. You don't have to stay there forever.

Before you start inventing excuses, it's time for the First Rate Take weekly awards.

Certified Baller Status goes to Glass Factory.

Twelve hundred and seventy-eight. Highest score in the league. A hundred and one clear of the next-best team.

Dwayne, you get one week of unrestricted shit-talking. Please don't be humble. It would be completely out of character.

Take your victory lap. We're keeping the footage for when the wheels fall off.

The G League Said No award goes to Hiawatha's Heated Team.

Seven hundred and fifty-two. Lowest score of the week. Eighty-four points BEHIND Jermaine.

We tried to send you down to the G League. They asked if you could just fold the uniforms.

Six waiver moves available. Zero used. You're protecting those adds like they carry over to your fucking retirement.

Certified Carry Job: Tyrese Maxey.

Two hundred fantasy points. Hottest player of the week. Thirty-five more than Ty Jerome in second.

And Gimmie The Loot still lost.

Maxey dragged that roster out of the mud, and they asked if he could go back for their slippers.

Maxey, your award comes with a trophy and permission to look disgusted in the team photo.

This is First Rate Take.

Your team. Your fault.