Are you ready for some Football?! The NFL season starts tonight. A day too soon, but I guess not even Roger Goodell wants to go up against the President.
Do you think that Hank Williams Jr. standard would sound the same if it asked “Are you ready for some fake football?!”
I plead guilty to having once participated in the pastime of fantasy football, but I gave it up somewhere between puberty and moving out of my parents’ basement – which may not necessarily have occurred in that order. Now, you might be thinking, “what gives you the right to judge?” And I’d probably answer “because this is my blog.” If you want to proclaim the merits of fantasy sports, get your own blog – or better yet, go to one of the thousands of message boards where people concern themselves with such things as Robert Griffin III’s passer rating. In fact, right now there’s probably some fantasy guru tweeting something about somebody who no one, other than his family or his probation officer, cares about.
Yes, fantasy football has officially run amok.
As a general rule I try to espouse the “live and let live” school of thought. If something makes you happy, go nuts. You like cooking? Then cook. Watch Food Network. Whatever. But would you create your own version of “Iron Chef” where you get to draft Bobby Flay and lament that Cat Cora got snatched up by the guy in accounting when you thought she’d slip to the second round?
There’s a reason it’s called fantasy football – sure, part of it is the alliteration, but if not for that it would be called “not real football.”
If you’re a Browns or a Ravens fan you should rejoice when they beat the Steelers, not complain that Jerricho Cotchery had only two catches for 16 yards.
My morning drive time sports talk show runs a spot every Thursday morning with a so-called “fantasy expert” telling callers which players they should activate each week. Am I the only one that thinks there is something incredibly ironic about people who think they have the skills to be an NFL general manager needing someone else to tell them who should play?
Not long ago I was talking to one of my kid’s classmates who was wearing a Tom Brady jersey. He told me he was rooting for the Chargers when they played the Pats because, wait for it… “my family has a fantasy league and Phillip Rivers is my quarterback.” Good Lord! My family has a lengthy tradition of passive aggression, but it doesn’t make me want to host a neighborhood block party where I alienate everybody and call it “Thanksgiving.”
Consider this from a Boston Globe article on the havoc fantasy football wreaks on personal relationships – and they weren’t talking about relationships between guys and their women. The story was focused on anecdotes about dudes that broke up with their long-time bros over fantasy football league issues.
“Here’s Douglass, of the Fanball Sports Network, describing what it takes to be a ‘loyal’ player: ‘I’d guess you are putting in a combined 4-6 hours per day if you include reading, researching, analyzing, any discussions with league mates about trades, waiver wire work to address needs that arise, and all of the minutiae that can go with it.’’’
When did football fans become the guys with the pocket protectors and tape on their glasses? You used to have to tap into dungeons and dragons to get that level of unadulterated nerdery.
Four to six hours?! I don’t even work that much in a day.