In Defense of the Touchdown Vulture

The fantasy football food chain is a horrifying thing.

It's a circle of carnage, really. No one is safe. Not you. Not the star running back. Not even the pinnacle predators.

Because, at all times, the fantasy vulture is out there—lurking in the shadows, sniffing out the easy kill.

It waits patiently for the RB1 to gash his way into the red zone. It watches as he slips through the second level only to be wrestled down a thigh short of the end zone.

Then it is time.

This is when the vulture goes to work—when the Khiry Robinsons of the world swoop in on a $585,000 base salary and tear a wet, six-point chunk out of Mark Ingram's throat. 

Is it wrong of them? Depends on who you ask. But make no mistake: The vulture is only doing what it has to do to survive.  

It grabs its quarry and transports it a single yard into its roost in the end zone. There, amongst piles of angry fantasy tweets and the bones of Byron Maxwell, the vulture quietly consumes its roadkill touchdown.

This is the lonely, unglamorous life of the touchdown vulture—an existence where just doing one's job isn't met with praise, but with open revulsion. 

This is wrong. Like bacteria and Kidz Bop-friendly remixes of Fetty Wap, touchdown vultures are ugly, but necessary components of the larger world and social fabric. 

Their story deserves to be told. Let's get started.

Identifying a Touchdown Vulture

Before we discuss the lifestyle and virtues of the touchdown vulture, we must first learn how to pick out and properly identify them.

To this end, we must consult The Fred Jackson Touchdown Vulture Chart (full resolution graphic here):

@DrCarson73

Inspired by a man some critics have called "the Meryl Streep of modern touchdown burglary," the Fred Jackson Touchdown Vulture Chart was designed to help fantasy managers discern if the player currently screwing them into the earth's mantle is indeed a feathered scavenger of the fantasy wasteland.

To supplement this, here are some other characteristics of the touchdown vulture:

1. Twenty-five years of age or older

2. Has backed up C.J. Spiller

3. Has a disproportionate number of touches to touchdowns

4. Shouldn't even be playing offense

5. Was formerly a fresh position player who has since become washed.*

*For help discerning washedness, hold the below Washed-O-Meter to your television screen during your chosen NFL broadcast.

@DrCarson73

Yup. It's picking them up already. Let's continue.

Doing the Dirty Work

Touchdown vultures get the raw end of the deal, because who actually wants to score the touchdown, anyway? 

Definitely not the guy who broke four tackles and dragged a free safety like loose toilet paper to the 3-yard line.

That guy's tired. He ran a long way. It's time to bring in the other guy—Boobie or whatever. Is LaRod Stephens-Howling still a thing? Let's get him in there.

Because whoever is taking this carry is running into a stacked box. Better to cry havoc and let slip the Tolberts of war than to throw Cam Newton to the wolves. Besides, defenders are quick to make business decisions when they see 243 pounds of hate and skillet queso coming their way:

@DrCarson73

Is that an attempt at tackling? Hell no, that isn't an attempt at tackling.

That's Byron Maxwell remembering he wants to be there when his grandchildren's eyes open.

Virtues of the Vulture

Now that we've covered what vultures are and what they do, let us praise anonymous, lumpy football men.

Here are some good qualities about the touchdown vulture:

1. Virtually invincible

2. Ruinous to the lives of one-day fantasy players

3. You can pick them up on waiver and hell yeah, LeGarrette Blount on the cheap, screw y'all. 

4. Their success is like a dog whistle for the worst kind of football fan

5. They eat once a week, so they're the cheapest dates around

In conclusion, I offer you a challenge: Give the touchdown vulture a chance. 

He's not pretty. He doesn't have the plumage of a Marshawn Lynch. He's not what the traditionalists describe as "good." But he's needed.

Without the vulture, every would-be prima donna position player would be bagging $120 million deals, secure in their irreplaceability. Fantasy football would be reduced to plugging pegs into holes. Dull waiting would replace the tension of waiting to see which spare tire Rex Ryan rolls out there to punch in the team's lone touchdown of the game.

So stop worrying and embrace the vulture. Or don't.

They're going to dump on someone's day. Might as well put karma in your corner.

Dan is on Twitter. He might never forgive Fred Jackson or James Jones, but he's trying.