It’s a few weeks into the season when the numbers next to my grav change. And it’s often a few weeks after that when I’ll notice, scrolling back to one conversation or another.

And what a difference a week makes. When the five free transfers entered the chat, I’ll confess to having been a bit bored by it all. No pressing issues, no players in my squad set to hoist an international red flag. I’d planned for that, you see…

Some amongst the commentariat took a dim view, indeed. I’m not about to bring data-driven anything into this ramble but if someone were to do an N-gram of the word ‘spoonfeeding’ appearing below the line in recent weeks, it would have been highly competitive within the everyday lexicon of informed discontent.

And here I’ve had to check FPL to measure my own pride that had gone before my recent fall, having cleared out my one remaining transfer before the Gang of Five came calling. Were it not for one P.W.Foden, I’d have ranked far worse than the (awfully) high five figures for the Gameweek.

Onto the next and you’ll know the tale already. Three transfers made, fixtures frisked, green arrow, all that. And what did we learn, class? The higher you go, the more difficult the going. Let’s have ‘non-linear difficulty’ for £100 please, Stephen. Oh, and how many transfers left? Answer beneath the nearest nesting duck.

Put a one before that nought and you’ve the number of years since I joined up to this site. Funny how that extra digit can come as a bit of a shock. And looking back over the weeks and years and ranks – time of year for it, isn’t it? – what springs to mind is what life was like in 19- or 20-whenever-it-was.

The seasons I remember as being most enjoyable were often the ones in which I ranked my worst. Facing down the deadline while chatting to a mate, perhaps a partner, getting your picks in (perhaps together) while navigating a party or a work deadline or a Life Event. Banter on FFS, joy and woe, all of it. What I love most about this Fantasy lark is the way it can become simply part of our lives. One year we’re making time for FPL; the next, life revolves around it. I once posted a year’s price changes, living on a non-GMT timeline, from such a ridiculous variety of locations that it (yes, some time ago) almost made me want to start a blog.

Good luck this week. Fast and furious soon. Meanwhile, Santa’s sure to be totting up every reply to an RMT.