There is no agenda. There are no minutes. There is a group chat that has been going since 2015, a commissioner nobody elected, and one night a year when all eleven of you sit in the same room and pretend this is a serious institution. This mug takes that position entirely seriously.
DRAFT NIGHT, in small departmental capitals with a laurel sprig on either side. ANNUAL MEETING, full width, in a heavy condensed block serif. A single hairline rule. And then, without a word of explanation: OF THE SAME ELEVEN IDIOTS. Typeset like a genuine club notice in two flat inks, and the design wraps both sides, so it reads the same whichever hand picks it up. No cartoon football, no punchline face; the formality does all the work.
Buy one for yourself, or a set of twelve for the whole league: the joke multiplies at the table. The line says idiots, not guys, because the league has a woman in it who is currently beating you. Attendance is mandatory.
