Fantasy Football – Fantasy POTUS

America Discovers the 25th Amendment Is Not Yelp for Presidents

Is Anish Vij a Moron?

Why are reporters SO stupid?

Somewhere between a viral headline and a political group chat meltdown, a certain corner of the internet has rediscovered the 25th Amendment to the United States Constitution like it’s a forgotten gym membership: technically still there, but no one’s actually using it.

Close-up of the United States Constitution showing the 25th Amendment text about presidential succession and incapacity.
The 25th Amendment — ratified in 1967 — was designed for presidential incapacity, not political disagreements. Yet every election cycle, someone treats it like an eject button labeled “In Case of Feelings.”

Let’s set the table before we start flipping it.

The real-world rule in question allows a vice president and a majority of the Cabinet to declare a president “unable to discharge the powers and duties” of the office. That’s not “I disagree with his tweets.” That’s “he cannot function.” And as the Bipartisan Policy Center confirms, Section 4 — the big scary one — has never once been successfully invoked.

Not once. Zip. Nada. Constitutionally speaking, this button has never left the glass case.

And yet, every election cycle, every news cycle, and occasionally every brunch conversation, someone treats it like a political eject button labeled “In Case of Feelings.”

The Fantasy POTUS League: Draft Your Cabinet, Pick Your Removal

Political commentators have turned the 25th Amendment into fantasy football — and not even good fantasy football. We’re talking the league where someone’s starting a kicker in Round 1.

“Okay, if we get the Vice President, two Cabinet members, and maybe a guy named Steve from Agriculture… we might make the playoffs.”

Meanwhile, actual constitutional reality is sitting in the corner like a bouncer at a nightclub:

“Sir, this mechanism is for incapacity, not vibes.”

Illustration of a fantasy football draft board with Cabinet member names instead of NFL players, representing the absurdity of treating constitutional removal like a game.
In Fantasy POTUS, every bad press conference is a fumble, every controversial tweet a turnover. But the Cabinet — the actual coaching staff — is not picking up the phone.

In Fantasy POTUS, every bad press conference is a fumble. Every controversial tweet is a turnover. Every weird handshake is a red-zone interception. The fans in the stands — Twitter, cable news, your uncle’s Facebook — are screaming for the bench. The coaching staff — the actual Cabinet — is not picking up the phone.

A leaked “anonymous staffer” (who suspiciously sounds like a guy who owns three podcasts and a ring light) explained it best:

“We thought the 25th Amendment was like unsubscribing from a newsletter. Turns out it’s more like canceling a timeshare in Florida — you need a lawyer, three notarized forms, and the blessing of the Founding Fathers.”

What the Funny People Are Saying About Presidential Removal

“I love how people talk about the 25th Amendment like it’s a remote control. ‘I don’t like this episode, can we switch presidents?'” — Jerry Seinfeld

“Folks act like the Cabinet is just sitting around with a big red button labeled ‘Oops.’ That button don’t exist. If it did, Congress would’ve leaned on it back in the 70s like a drunk guy on a jukebox.” — Ron White

“People think ‘unfit for office’ means ‘he annoys me.’ If that were true, half your coworkers would’ve been removed by lunch.” — Amy Schumer

The “Never Used” Rule That Gets Used Constantly in Headlines

Here’s the strange magic trick:

A rule that has never been used this way somehow gets used every week in headlines.

It’s like Bigfoot. No confirmed sightings, but somehow he’s always trending.

Even in recent news chatter, the 25th Amendment pops up whenever tensions rise, debates heat up, or someone says something spicy on TV. The National Constitution Center has practically built a FAQ cottage industry around explaining — repeatedly, patiently, like a kindergarten teacher on hour six — that this is not how any of this works.

And every time, the public reacts like:

“THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE ONE.”

It is never “the one.” It has never been the one. It will not be the one.

In Fantasy POTUS terms: you’ve been holding this player on your bench for four seasons waiting for a breakout game that is constitutionally prohibited from happening.

The Scientific Definition of “Unable” (And Why Your Opinion Doesn’t Qualify)

Let’s break this down with the precision of a late-night diner menu.

According to constitutional scholars at Cornell Law’s Legal Information Institute, the amendment is about incapacity, not disagreement. Think:

  • Coma
  • Severe medical emergency
  • Cognitive inability to perform duties

Not:

  • Bad press conference
  • Policy you hate
  • “He said something weird again”

Senator Birch Bayh, the amendment’s chief architect, was explicit: Section 4 was designed for situations where the president “is unable either to make or communicate his decisions.” Not situations where the decisions are ones you’d make differently.

Split image showing a medical emergency scenario versus a political debate, illustrating the constitutional distinction between incapacity and disagreement.
If political disagreement qualified as incapacity, the presidency would rotate every Thursday. We’d go through more presidents than a fantasy league goes through kickers.

A very serious fictional expert, Dr. Linda Happenstance of the Institute for Obvious Things, put it this way:

“If political disagreement qualified as incapacity, the presidency would rotate every Thursday. We’d go through more presidents than a fantasy league goes through kickers.”

Fantasy POTUS Draft Rules: Why the Cabinet Isn’t Your Trade Partner

For the 25th Amendment’s Section 4 to kick in — the involuntary removal provision — you need a very specific lineup, per Congress.gov’s annotated Constitution:

  • The Vice President
  • A majority of the Cabinet
  • Then potentially Congress stepping in with a two-thirds vote in both chambers

That’s not a quick vote. That’s a constitutional obstacle course with paperwork, a 48-hour clock, a 21-day window, and enough procedural hurdles to make the Electoral College look breezy.

And here’s the kicker: those Cabinet members are usually appointed by the president.

So the idea that they’re all going to suddenly stand up like a courtroom drama and shout, “We object!” is… ambitious. It’s like expecting your own fantasy football team to bench you mid-game. It’s like drafting a player and then having them show up to the other team’s stadium.

As Britannica notes, the one time Cabinet removal was seriously floated — after January 6, 2021 — Vice President Pence declined, the Cabinet didn’t move, and the whole thing died faster than a third-string quarterback’s career.

The Poll Nobody Asked For: Fantasy POTUS Public Knowledge Edition

A recent fictional poll conducted by the Bohiney Institute (margin of error: emotional) found:

  • 64% of people think the 25th Amendment can be used for “bad leadership vibes”
  • 22% think it’s “like impeachment but faster”
  • 14% thought it was a tax form
  • 100% of constitutional lawyers reportedly sighed deeply before answering any questions about it

The Fantasy POTUS Commissioner — presumably someone with a law degree, a podcast, and untreated optimism — continues to insist the rules will eventually work in their favor. The rules have read their own manual and disagree.

Cause and Effect, But Make It Absurd: The Fantasy Scoring System Nobody Understands

There’s a certain genre of writing that treats political disagreement like a medical diagnosis:

“He disagrees with us… therefore, clearly unwell.”

That’s not law. That’s group therapy with better lighting and a Twitter account.

Let’s follow the logic some headlines suggest in Fantasy POTUS scoring:

  • Step 1: President does controversial thing
  • Step 2: People get mad
  • Step 3: Constitution removes president

That’s like saying: “I didn’t enjoy the movie, so the projector legally resigns.”

Or: “I didn’t like my quarterback’s decision-making, so the rulebook retroactively redrafts him to the practice squad.”

Constitutional law is not a fantasy league. There are no waiver wire pickups. There is no commissioner override. There is no rage-quit trade.

Historical Reality vs. Internet Imagination: The Actual POTUS Precedents

Here’s the quiet truth humming under all the noise:

The amendment has been used — voluntarily, calmly, without drama. Per the Bipartisan Policy Center, Presidents Reagan, George W. Bush (twice), and Biden all invoked Section 3 — the voluntary transfer — when undergoing medical procedures. It worked exactly as designed: boring, procedural, and completely devoid of political theater.

No one wrote a think-piece about it. No one trended. No one held a press conference in front of a fireplace dramatically reading the amendment aloud.

Because when it actually works, it looks nothing like Fantasy POTUS.

As one unnamed congressional aide allegedly muttered while staring into a cup of coffee:

“If it were easy to remove a president, we’d have gone through twelve by now. We’d need a deeper bench than the NBA G League.”

The Button That Isn’t There: Final Standings in the Fantasy POTUS Season

The 25th Amendment is not a “remove president” button.

It’s more like a glass case labeled:

“Break only if the pilot is unconscious.”

And every election cycle, someone walks up, taps the glass, and says:

“Yeah but what if I just don’t like the flight?”

The glass doesn’t care. The Constitution doesn’t care. The Reagan Library’s constitutional explainer doesn’t care. The bouncer at the door of the 25th Amendment has been checking IDs since 1967, and “I’m really frustrated with the current situation” is not on the approved list.

In Fantasy POTUS, this is the season finale that never airs. The playoff game that gets rained out. The championship trophy that exists only in the group chat.

Meanwhile, the actual amendment — ratified in 1967 after John F. Kennedy’s assassination made everyone realize they’d left a gaping hole in the succession rulebook — sits quietly in the Constitution, doing exactly what it was designed to do: nothing, until something truly catastrophic happens. And even then, it requires a lineup the fantasy managers haven’t been able to field.

Better luck next season.

Auf Wiedersehen, amigo!


This article is a satirical interpretation of real constitutional discussions, written as a collaborative effort between two fully sentient humans: one being the world’s oldest tenured professor who still assigns homework nobody reads, and the other a philosophy major turned dairy farmer who now believes all political theory can be explained using cows and fences — and, as of this week, also fantasy football rosters. Any resemblance to actual headlines, outrage cycles, or group chats arguing about the Constitution is purely intentional.

By Alan Nafzger

Alan Nafzger was born in Lubbock, Texas, the son Swiss immigrants. He grew up on a dairy in Windthorst, north central Texas. He earned degrees from Midwestern State University (B.A. 1985) and Texas State University (M.A. 1987). University College Dublin (Ph.D. 1991). Dr. Nafzger has entertained and educated young people in Texas colleges for 37 years. Nafzger is best known for his dark novels and experimental screenwriting. His best know scripts to date are Lenin's Body, produced in Russia by A-Media and Sea and Sky produced in The Philippines in the Tagalog language. In 1986, Nafzger wrote the iconic feminist western novel, Gina of Quitaque. Contact: [email protected]