ESPN

Every year in Sheffield, England, they crown the world's biggest liar. It's a competition that dates back to the 19th century, when local pub owner Will Ritson used to entertain his regulars with his tall tales, such as the one in which he grew a turnip large enough to move his family into, or that he was going to get a date with that new waitress, Diane.

John Graham has won the competition six times, if you dare to believe his claims, including this year, when he delighted the international audience with a story of a German World War II submarine invading Britain to get better television reception. Other lies told at the event include the alleged discovery of mermaid farms, and the outrage of one man over the new fox-hunting bill, which requires that all hunting parties first notify the foxes in writing of their intent to shoot them.

But don't be angry with Mr. Graham. After all, his lies haven't actually hurt anyone, and he hasn't exactly made a huge profit from his outlandish whoppers. First prize this year included a no-expenses paid trip to Timbuktu, and a once-in-a-lifetime chance to meet the Tooth Fairy. But in a fantasy football league in which actual money is on the line, a little more honesty is to be expected. Unfortunately for Wally in Oregon, his league's commish puts John Graham to shame.

From Wally, via e-mail: "Before Week 11, I dropped my head coach [a position in some leagues] with the intention of picking up a replacement off waivers before the games started. As Sunday approached, I was still unsure which coach to pick up. Well, life got in the way ... and I failed to submit a head coach for Sunday. Before I went to bed Sunday night, I noticed I had lost my game by six points. Oh well. But Monday morning rolls around, and I see that some stats had been adjusted and I had now won by two points. The first e-mail from the commish was a rant about how I had cheated, and he attacked my character, etc., saying I didn't put in a head coach because I didn't want to lose points. At first I wasn't upset and tried to explain my side of the story. As the accusations from the commish (and not from anyone else in the league) continued, I decided to look at the league rules for clarification. I could not find one thing saying a team absolutely has to fill in every position before a game. Granted, this was not my initial intention, but I began to see this as a loophole. Despite me making this point to the commish (that if the rules allow for such a thing, then it most likely isn't illegal or cheating) I was told I wouldn't be seen as a cheater if I picked a coach for the Monday night game between Denver and Tennessee, both of which were still available. Although I would have never picked either coach for the rest of the season, I was harassed into picking one. I flipped a coin, got Jeff Fisher, and took the loss."

Poor Wally. He had a win locked up, at least after all the stats were corrected, and then the commish made a ruling that even though the rules didn't specifically state that a team must field a full and complete roster, they implied it. He coerced Wally into selecting a coach he didn't want, and Wally lost his game as a result. Now, just as a preface, I have a great personal distaste for starting a Head Coach, adding bonus points for picking the winners against the spread or things of that nature. It's silly. It would be like playing poker with your buddies and winning the biggest pot of the night fair and square, but having to give half of it to the person who had came closest to guessing which card would come on the river. It's mixing apples and oranges.

Nevertheless, if your league rules tell you what a legal lineup is and you don't have one, then those rules also should have some sort of penalty written into them. Otherwise, what's to prevent an owner on Monday morning from sitting his starting defense/special teams, which plays later that night, because he already had won by one point? It's cowardly, but if your rules do not penalize someone for doing it, they should be able to. The point of playing fantasy football, at least to me, is not "to win the game, no matter what." Yes, I want to win. But I think the idea is to prove you can predict which players will score the most fantasy points better than your fellow owners. Not that you can manipulate rosters and free agents on Sunday at 4:02 p.m. ET to pick up Ben Patrick because you just figured out that Todd Heap wasn't going to play. But the point here is that Wally failed to submit a head coach, and he was ready to accept his loss. Only after the league's Web site made some scoring adjustments did the commish raise a stink, attacking Wally's moral character. Wally, in the interest of fairness, caved and accepted his fate. At least he did until he had time to reflect. Something seemed so familiar about this situation. He had been so blindsided by the personal attack, it had slipped his mind ... but this same sort of thing had happened before.

"[I remembered] earlier in the season when I was playing the commish's team, he chose not to play a head coach during his coach's bye week -- and other owners chose to do the same thing. I e-mailed him, asking if there was a penalty for such decisions. His typo-riddled reply was this: 'Their is no penalty for that its a choice or a roll of the dice kind of situation ... you can't penalize people because they didn't set up their roster. Its a choice to just $%^@ a week away ... so be it. No rule was made concerning this before the season started.' No action was taken at that time to address this, and now its coming back to haunt the whole league."

So the commish had already ruled on this situation. He clearly said there was no penalty for not filling a complete roster. He declared it to be a choice. So Wally should have been allowed to leave his head coach spot blank, and there's no way he should have been forced to endure the venomous spew of the wrongly enraged commish. So now, because he didn't address the rules when the original question was raised, the chance for misunderstanding and controversy continued on. Wally is now bitter and ready to quit. As he puts it: "I can't stand being in a league where all the rules are kept inside the commish's head."

But here's the kicker: This whole charade of moral outrage and accusations of cheating apparently was a performance worthy of Will Ritson's admiration. You want to know the true reason this commish was so upset? Wally was playing the commish's wife, and she didn't want to lose.

Get out, Wally. Before you know it, you'll wake up and see that Randy Moss has somehow been traded from your roster to hers as an early Christmas present. Get out while you still can!

All rise. The Court is adjourned!

A.J. Mass is a fantasy football, baseball and college basketball analyst for ESPN.com. You can e-mail him here.