For ten years, Petitioner’s fantasy league maintained an unwritten custom: score exactly 69.0 points, and you win. Not 69.5. Not 68.8. Exactly 69.0. The league discussed this threshold repeatedly over the years whenever teams approached it—when someone finished with 69.5 points, members would comment that it “would have saved their week.” Yet the magic number never came up. Until now.
This season, one team finally achieved it. Exactly 69.0 points through legitimate roster management. No empty spots. No last-minute shenanigans. No attempts to manipulate scoring. Just a clean old-fashioned 69. The team immediately began celebrating their first-ever “69 W.” And the league immediately split down the middle. Half the membership insists the rule was merely jest, not meant for actual enforcement. The other half maintains the longstanding tradition should be honored.
We hold that it must be. You can’t go halfway on a 69. The team that scored exactly 69.0 points gets the win.
I
The factual record establishes a pattern of consistent acknowledgment spanning more than a decade. This is not a rule mentioned once at a draft party after too many drinks and never discussed again. As Petitioner explained, the 69 points rule “has been talked about for years.” Critically, these discussions occurred whenever circumstances made the rule relevant—”over the years teams have definitely gotten close before and ended up with 69 and a half or something else close and every time people comment that that would have saved their week.”
This pattern of repeated invocation demonstrates something essential: league members understood the rule as operative, not hypothetical. When a team finished with 69.5 points and members commented that exact 69 “would have saved their week,” they were acknowledging that the rule had teeth. They were recognizing that if the team had scored 69.0 instead of 69.5, the automatic win would have applied. That acknowledgment, repeated “every time” teams approached the threshold over ten-plus years, establishes universal awareness and acceptance.
The current achievement was entirely legitimate. Petitioner emphasizes: “no empty roster spots, no last minute switch shenanigans, no BS shady moves.” This was not a case of a team benching players to manipulate their score to exactly 69. It was not collusion with an opponent to engineer the outcome. It was simply excellent—or perhaps terrible—roster management resulting in the precise point total that the league had discussed and acknowledged for a decade.
Upon achieving 69.0 points, the team “began celebrating that their terrible horrific team actually ended up winning with the first 69 W.” The celebration was immediate and public. And the league’s response was equally immediate: approximately half the membership objected that “this is just a joke and not supposed to be taken seriously,” while the other half maintained “it’s absolutely a win.”
This fifty-fifty split is revealing. It demonstrates that a substantial portion of the league—fully half—understood the rule as binding all along. These members did not need to be convinced. They did not need legal briefing. They simply recognized that the moment the league had discussed for years had finally arrived and the rule must be honored. The other half’s protestations that it was “just a joke” represent post hoc rationalization by members who now face an inconvenient outcome.
II
We establish a framework for determining when unwritten league customs become binding and enforceable. Three criteria must be satisfied:
First, the custom must demonstrate consistent acknowledgment over an extended period. Casual jokes or one-off comments do not create enforceable obligations. But where league members repeatedly invoke a rule over years—indeed, over a decade—their conduct establishes that they understood the custom as operative. The repetition matters. Each time members commented that 69.0 points “would have saved their week,” they reinforced the rule’s existence and acknowledged its binding nature.
Second, the custom must be invoked whenever relevant circumstances arise. A rule discussed once at league inception but never mentioned again lacks the kind of sustained acknowledgment that creates binding obligations. Here, the rule was discussed “every time” teams approached the 69 point threshold. This repeated invocation in relevant contexts demonstrates that league members were actively monitoring for the condition and would recognize its achievement when it occurred.
Third, the custom must be achieved legitimately, without manipulation or gamesmanship designed to trigger the rule artificially. We would reach a different result if a team benched players to engineer exactly 69.0 points, or if opponents colluded to produce that outcome. But where a team simply manages its roster in good faith and happens to land on the magic number, the achievement is legitimate and the rule must be honored.
We draw on In re Inebriated League Governance, 24-0806-1 (2024), which addressed when an unrecorded rule change could be enforced. There, we held that “procedural irregularities—including intoxication of participants and the Commissioner’s failure to record the amendment—do not automatically invalidate otherwise legitimate rule changes where credible evidence establishes that the vote occurred and reflected genuine league consensus.” The principle applies here: the lack of formal written documentation does not invalidate a rule where the evidence overwhelmingly establishes that league members understood and acknowledged it as binding.
We also draw on In re Pink Slips Fraud in the League of No Integrity, 24-0822-1 (2024), which emphasized that “league culture and custom govern the permissibility of conduct within fantasy football leagues” and that “league names have meaning” and “constitutional commitments deserve respect.” While that case involved a league that explicitly rejected integrity, the broader principle controls here: leagues develop cultures, customs, and traditions that shape member expectations and create binding norms even absent written documentation.
The 69 points rule reflects this league’s culture. For ten years, members have discussed it. They have monitored for it. They have commented on near-misses. They have built anticipation for the day when someone would finally achieve it. That decade-long pattern of acknowledgment creates a binding custom that cannot be disclaimed now that the moment has finally arrived.
III
We turn to application. Does the 69 points rule satisfy our three-part framework? It does, easily.
Consistent acknowledgment over an extended period: The rule has been “talked about for years”—specifically, “10 plus years” according to Petitioner’s submission. This is not a marginal case where we must determine whether six months or eighteen months constitutes “extended.” A decade of consistent acknowledgment overwhelmingly satisfies this criterion.
Invocation whenever relevant circumstances arise: League members commented on the rule “every time” teams approached 69 points. When a team finished with 69.5 or “something else close,” members would observe that exact 69 “would have saved their week.” This demonstrates active monitoring for the condition and repeated acknowledgment of its significance. The rule was not gathering dust in some forgotten corner of league history—it was alive and frequently discussed whenever circumstances made it relevant.
Legitimate achievement: Petitioner emphasizes that this was accomplished through standard roster management with “no empty roster spots, no last minute switch shenanigans, no BS shady moves, a good clean old fashioned 69.” The team did not bench players to manipulate their score. They simply fielded a lineup that happened to generate exactly 69.0 points. This satisfies the legitimacy requirement.
Moreover, we find highly significant the immediate fifty-fifty split in league response. Half the membership instantly recognized the rule should be enforced. These members needed no persuasion. They had been waiting for this moment for ten years and understood immediately that the automatic win applied. This fifty percent support—arising spontaneously without coordination or legal argument—demonstrates that a substantial portion of the league understood the rule as binding all along.
IV
The opposing faction contends the rule was “just a joke and not supposed to be taken seriously.” We reject this defense for three reasons.
First, the repeated invocation over ten years belies the “just a joke” characterization. Jokes wear thin. If this were truly jest, league members would have tired of commenting on it every time someone approached 69 points. Yet they continued to discuss it “for years.” Each time a team got close, members observed that exact 69 “would have saved their week.” That sustained pattern of acknowledgment demonstrates the rule was understood as real, not hypothetical.
Second, the timing of the objection is suspect. For ten years, no one felt compelled to clarify that the rule was “just a joke.” The league discussed it repeatedly without anyone saying “hey, we’re not really going to enforce this if it happens.” The objection materialized only after someone achieved 69.0 points and sought to claim the automatic win. This post hoc rationalization—deployed only when the rule operates to one’s disadvantage—cannot override a decade of consistent acknowledgment.
Third, and most fundamentally, we apply the principle from In re Post-Draft Weekly Loser Challenge, 22-1131-1 (2022): “Fantasy football exists primarily as a forum for friends to compete and trash-talk” and “leagues benefit from creative programming designed to enhance camaraderie and engagement.” The 69 points rule represents exactly the kind of creative tradition that makes fantasy football more than spreadsheet optimization. It adds an element of chaos, excitement, and humor to every week. Teams monitor their scores differently when they know that landing on exactly 69.0 might save an otherwise lost matchup.
As the hosts emphasized during oral argument, enforcing the rule serves the league’s interest in maintaining “vibes.” One host asked directly: “do you want to kill the vibes of your league or do you want to just be like now every week it’s a big deal?” That question cuts to the heart of this case. For ten years, the 69 points rule added spice to weekly competition. Members checked scores on Sunday night wondering if anyone would hit the magic number. They discussed near-misses. They built anticipation. Now that it has finally happened, refusing to honor the rule would kill exactly the kind of league culture that makes fantasy football engaging over multiple decades.
The hosts also observed that “fuck the guy who lost”—meaning the opponent who scored more points but faces defeat due to the 69 rule. We acknowledge this produces a harsh result for that manager. But harsh results are inherent in automatic win provisions. The opponent knew—or should have known—about the 69 points rule after ten years of league discussion. If the rule troubled him, he should have sought clarification or pressed for its formal adoption or rejection. Having remained silent while the league discussed it for a decade, he cannot now claim surprise when it operates to his disadvantage.
V
We address briefly the question of whether both teams should get a win this time, with the rule enforced only prospectively going forward. One host proposed this compromise, suggesting the opponent “who beat him gets a win because it was unclear” while the 69-scoring team also gets a win, with future applications flipping the result entirely. We reject this halfway measure.
You can’t go halfway on a 69. Either the rule applies or it does not. Either ten years of consistent acknowledgment creates a binding custom or it does not. Either league culture and tradition matter or they do not. The compromise position tries to have it both ways—giving everyone a participation trophy while also enforcing the rule going forward. But that approach satisfies no one and establishes bad precedent.
If the rule was truly “unclear,” why did fifty percent of the league immediately recognize it should be enforced? If it was genuinely ambiguous, why did members comment for ten years that exact 69 “would have saved their week”? The evidence overwhelmingly demonstrates the rule was understood and acknowledged, even if half the league now finds the result inconvenient. We will not reward that post hoc objection with a compromise that undercuts the rule’s binding nature.
Moreover, awarding both teams a win would itself be unprecedented and potentially distortive of playoff seeding and final standings. The appropriate resolution is simpler: the team that scored 69.0 points gets the win, the opponent gets the loss, and the league learns that customs acknowledged over ten years will be enforced when triggered.
* * *
We close with observations about league culture and the role of unwritten customs. Fantasy football leagues operate through a combination of formal rules—scoring systems, roster requirements, playoff structures—and informal customs that develop over years of competition. Both matter. Both shape member expectations. Both create obligations.
Written rules provide clarity and prevent disputes. We encourage leagues to memorialize important decisions in writing. But we also recognize that not everything can or should be reduced to text. Some customs emerge organically through repeated practice and acknowledgment. The 69 points rule represents this kind of organic tradition—discussed whenever relevant, acknowledged by all members, and reinforced through a decade of sustained attention.
When such customs are triggered for the first time, leagues face a choice: honor the tradition that they have cultivated for years, or kill it by declaring it was never real. The first option enhances league culture and rewards members who have been waiting patiently for the magic moment. The second option undermines trust, damages camaraderie, and signals that verbal acknowledgments over ten years mean nothing when outcomes prove inconvenient.
This case exemplifies why the first option is correct. The 69 points rule adds entertainment value to every week of competition. It creates additional stakes beyond simple win-loss records. It generates memorable moments—like this one, where after ten years someone finally achieved the legendary exact 69. These are the stories that leagues recount years later, the moments that bind members together across seasons and decades.
Refusing to honor the rule now would kill the vibes, as one host observed. It would signal that league traditions are meaningless and acknowledgments over ten years create no obligations. That outcome serves no one’s interests—not the opponent who technically scored more points, not the team that legitimately achieved 69.0, and certainly not the league as a whole, which has invested a decade in building anticipation for this exact moment.
We emphasize that future applications are now clear. The league can no longer claim the rule is ambiguous or “just a joke.” This opinion establishes that the 69 points rule is binding and enforceable. Any team that scores exactly 69.0 points through legitimate roster management will receive an automatic win regardless of their opponent’s score. The league may prospectively amend or eliminate the rule if members so choose. But absent formal elimination, it stands and will be enforced.
Finally, we note the pedagogical value of this outcome. For ten years, league members discussed the 69 points rule without facing consequences for that discussion. They commented casually on near-misses. They joked about what would happen if someone hit exact 69. But none of that discussion had stakes—it was all hypothetical. Now the hypothetical has become real, and members learn that words have meaning, customs create obligations, and traditions acknowledged over ten years will be honored when triggered.
This lesson extends beyond the immediate parties. Every fantasy league that maintains unwritten customs—whether involving exact point totals, palindrome scores, or other creative traditions—should take note. If you discuss a rule repeatedly over years, if you acknowledge it whenever relevant circumstances arise, if you build a culture around anticipating its application, then you create binding obligations even absent written documentation. When the magic moment finally arrives, you must honor what you have built.
The team that scored exactly 69.0 points gets the automatic win. The opponent who scored more points but loses under the 69 rule receives our sympathy but no relief. And the league learns that ten years of tradition creates binding custom that cannot be disclaimed through post hoc protestations that it was “just a joke.”
The 69 points rule is enforced. The team that scored exactly 69.0 points is awarded the victory.