With fantasy football, Commish really rules!
Copied from the Boston Globe 9/23/26 - By Beth Teitell GLOBE STAFF
 
The tweet came from an account on X that usually gets one or two likes per post, tops. But then, a few days into the NFL season, a formerly private citizen named Harrison Hughes tapped into a matter so raw, so profound — of such cultural importance — that he went viral.
 
“It’s kinda [messed] up that teachers get paid more than Fantasy Football Commissioners,’’ wrote Hughes, 30, a sales executive at an AI company.
 
The love came fast. “Commissioners need to start a union,’’ read one popular response. “Completely thankless job,’’ read another. There may be no harder gig in America than fantasy football commissioner — at least according to the commissioners.
 
There are approximately 40 million fantasy football players in the United States. And with ego, bragging rights, and often money at stake, players take every point seriously. Ruling over this roiling cauldron, making decisions that can determine a person’s sense of self-worth for an entire year, are the commissioners.
 
And anyone who thinks it’s all fun and games, well, let’s let the commissioners take it from here.
 
“I’m called ‘Stalin,’ ’’ said Shamus Coyne, 29, who runs a league that started back at Malden Catholic High School. If his league’s managers don’t like one of his rulings — such as whether a trade between two teams is fair – they ridicule him in the group chat.
 
“In the rest of their lives people have matured,’’ said Coyne, who works in wealth management, “but fantasy is an outlet for people to be immature.’’
 
“Imagine having Thanksgiving dinner and everyone is competing over who made the best dish, and at the end there is a winner,’’ said Canton native Adam Clyve, 22, the commissioner of his family league.
 
“And as commissioner, you’re the one who sets the rules.’’ “You’re signing yourself up for torture,’’ said Mike Golden, 39, the veteran commissioner of a league that started when he was at Northeastern University.
 
The past few years, he said, he’s been under attack because he won’t kick out newer members to make room for original members who decided to leave the league and now want back in. “They want me to get rid of Uncle Ken,’’ Golden said, referring to a newer member known by that name. “But Uncle Ken didn’t do anything. He’s good. He shows up. He’s the only one who doesn’t make fun of me.’’
 
 That, of course, is one of possibly a million decisions a commissioner might make, either unilaterally or with input from the league. Others include: whether or not the league will award points per reception, and if so, how many; what the last-place punishment should be; setting the buy-in price and then collecting the money; and something that sounds simple, but as anyone who’s ever tried to organize anything knows, is anything but: scheduling the draft.
 
“You would not believe how frustrating it is to get a group of 10 people to commit to being on their computer [for the draft] at a specific time,’’ said Hughes, the X user. “Guys,’’ he said, addressing an invisible audience, “you’ve had months of warning.
 
’’ When I called Jeff Schaffer, a co-creator of the cult TV favorite “The League,’’ and asked him to describe the commissioner role, he likened it to “an unhealthy combination’’ of being the adult in the room, a den mother, a sheriff, and a referee, “but even more thankless.’’ Commissioners play in the leagues over which they reign, he noted, and can be accused of selfinterest.
 
“It’s like if Roger Goodell had his own team.’’ The role is so important, he added darkly, that a bad commissioner “can sink a league.’’ Indeed, right now, the commissioner of a league is facing a mini mutiny.
 
One of his league members, Joseph Omeste, 28, a health care worker in Boston, recently took to Reddit. “Ways to seek revenge against a tyrannical commissioner,’’ he posted soon after the season began. Omeste also drew up a Declaration of Independence, of sorts. “When in the course of fantasy football events, it becomes necessary . . . to rise against the unchecked authority of a Commissioner,’’ it began.
 
Reached by phone, Omeste detailed his commissioner’s main alleged sin (which involves league members who are new to fantasy feeling tricked by the commissioner’s pre-season guide), then griped (cheerfully) about his alleged arrogance. “He wants us to call him ‘Commish’ when we are hanging out at a bar,’’ Omeste said of his childhood friend.
 
When I spoke with Jon, the Commish, who did not want his last name used lest his employer see his fantasy drama, he clarified that he only demands to be called “Commish’’ during the season. He took the opportunity to gripe about his subjects.
 
“If I win, it’s because I cheated, and if I lose it’s because I [stink],’’ Commish said sarcastically. If passions seem high, it’s because people are often more invested in their fantasy teams than their hometown teams, said Zach Scola, an assistant professor at UMass Boston, whose work focuses in part on fantasy sports.
 
“It has a lot to do with the fact that there is ownership – I did something to make this happen,’’ he said, channeling fantasy players’ thoughts. “These are my players, my team.’’
 
Sometimes the commissioner is simply the person who started the league, and never manages to shed the obligation. But others seek it out, said Reginald James, the host of the Fantasy Commissioner Show podcast.
 
“The role attracts certain types,’’ he said. And one is: “Someone who likes to be in control and this is their kingdom. They can set the rules and tell people what to do. They are drawn to power.’’ Alas, the nobility of the role is rarely recognized. In part to rectify that (and obviously in larger part to generate marketing buzz) in 2015, Pizza Hut and ESPN created a Fantasy Football Commissioner of the Year award, with prizes that included two years’ worth of Pizza Hut pizza, and a ruby-and-diamond encrusted ring valued at $10,000.
 
Kevin Murray, a chiropractor in Seattle, won the award in its second and final year (when the ring was valued at $7,000) with a stunning display on his part of cheerful, organized, and creative commissioner-ship, and said the job is wrongly maligned.
 
“People think it’s about ruling,’’ said Murray, who after winning the “life changing’’ award went on to write “The Commissioner’s Playbook’’ and host the “Fantasy Football Unlimited’’ podcast. “But it’s really about managing and leading people.’’
 
Maybe. Or, as Jon, the Commish, put it: “Being a commissioner is almost like being a mother to a bunch of babies, and they all have their lists of demands.’’
 
Beth Teitell can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.. Follow her @bethteitell