I used to swear I would never do it. I had an affiliation to my Steelers and nothing could make me cheer for others. I avoided it like the plague, but eventually I gave in... to fantasy football. Now I'm THAT fantasy guy. Endlessly scouring free agency and watching the waiver wire. Spending hours deciding on a lineup, only to lose sleep over whether I started the right guys or not. I am that guy, the one who leaps off the couch for a first quarter field goal by a kicker in the NFC West. The guy who checks the injury report to see how long a guy will be out. And if that's not available fast enough I'll check WebMD and see how long it takes turf toe to heal myself dammit. Why do I stress so much? A few reasons: 1. I'm competitive and I don't like to lose, 2. I am in a league with nine friends and myself, so there is always trash talk and bragging rights, 3. In the words of Randy Moss, "Straight cash homie." That's right, I want to win that money. But I have noticed that my hobby has turned into my mania. At one time, I would watch the Steeler game and then have a productive Sunday. Now I annoy the wife with constant flipping between the one o'clock games, then watch the 4 o'clock game, then the Sunday nighter, and the sometimes crucial MNF (this week I was down 17 going into Monday night and Arian Foster picked up 22, and a win). No wonder I named my team after the guy (Foster's Arian Nation). I was fist pumping like the Situation when he put up those numbers. And then it hit me, I was way too excited about a Colts Texans game. But that's what fantasy football does to you. Thank God I don't have Sunday Ticket or the RedZone channel or I'd probably be divorced already. I couldn't even peel myself away from the TV to answer the door for the trick or treaters... "Honey, can you get that? Jay Feely is attempting a 32 yarder." God, I'm sick.
I started out thinking I would just do it to occupy myself, you know, for laughs. I refused to become obsessed. Well, that didn't last. This year we had a live draft party and there I was with my own laptop and my homemade cheat sheet, three different color highlighters, and one serious problem. I actually had guys in my head that I knew I would take if they were still on the board in the 14th round. Tell me that's not ridiculous. But if you don't go all in, you get your ass beat, as I found out in my first season. And I wasn't going to let that happen again. I research, I add and drop, I maul the waiver wire for every last drop of talent I can get. But there is the part of me that thinks it just might ruin the games a little. My favorite team lost? My favorite player had a bad day? That should really bother me, but now it's "who cares, I don't own them." I go to the bar and everyone is cheering for the Steelers, as am I. But I'm secretly hoping they can win without any major contribution from Rashard Mendenhall because he's playing against me that week. It sucks. And sometimes it can be just plain confusing, especially to the wife. "Babe, why are you cheering for Maurice Jones-Drew, but against Mike Sims-Walker? Aren't they on the same team?" Honey, you obviously just don't get it. It's a sweet misery that only the fantasy freak can relate to. So this year, she decides to get involved in an all girl league. What a waste. It's honestly proof that fantasy football was made for men. Men like to give each other shit, girls don't. We like to taunt each other and nothing presents that chance better on a Tuesday than downing one of your boys in fantasy over the weekend. One good thing that came from it, though, she at least understands what I'm talking about now. She doesn't share my mania, but she is starting to get it. Besdes, you don't get to be 7-1 without a little addictive obsession, right?
