You call this a fantasy?

So, last time we all met up I was going on about how football in general was just not my cup of tea, to put it mildly. All of the activities and the mentality and other things related to the sport are beyond my comprehension. Well, I understand the need for large men to drink beer together and grunt and pound their chests and yell during victory and break small items of furniture during a loss. It puts them in touch with their caveman roots, back when all these types of behaviors actually made them handy to have around. But the one thing that really doesn't make any sense to me is the concept of fantasy football.

Until my husband "discovered" fantasy football I had no idea what it was or what it involved. I knew you picked your favorite players for certain teams, but I wasn't aware of the surgical precision that was required. In all honesty, I kinda thought it was like the Madden football games for Xbox, only an online version. But it's nothing like that. There are "leagues" you join, and at first your lottery of players that you can choose from is a bit random. And, you have to pick certain people before opponents in your "league" pick them. Then you come up with a (stupid) team name, and possibly even get a chance to put together a half-assed team logo. Then, "teams" within that "league" meet up very much like what happens in real life. Points are awarded based on how members of your team performed in real life. At the end of the week, points are totaled, and that gives you your overall standing in the league. Or something like that.

The thing is, on its face it seems like a pretty simple and easygoing process meant to enhance the overall fun you have during the football season. But I think my husband takes it to a whole different level. His involvement isn't one of passive observer or weekend pseudo-jock content with just watching how it all plays out. Prior to the games of that week, he spends time going over who did what, who is injured and who is playing that week. Then, in much the same manner as Supreme Court judges are nominated, he picks who will be playing.

But once the players on his "team" are chosen, he doesn't just sit back and watch the real game for fun. He is in a flurry of activity, flipping back and forth between multiple games to see who is winning and who is an embarrassment to their mothers. During what commercial breaks he can catch, he's running upstairs to jump online to see what his fantasy team standing is, and whether or not he's beating the pants off the opposition or getting his ass handed back to him.

But, half-time is the worst. Half-time to me has always been "you can finally pay attention to the wife" time, but not for him. If anything, things get more tense during half-time. He watches the half-time reports like viewers watched OJ's white Bronco on the news. And invariably, half-time is usually a mixed bag of emotions. One key player he used may be performing really well, but then his chosen defense will suck elephant ass. Or vice versa. But the best spectacle is when he realizes that a player he chose either got injured and had to leave, or wasn't actually playing that day at all. Then it's the misery stories about his "scores" and how it will be really hard to make up those points with the next game. As a result, he's back upstairs on the computer checking out how every other "team" in his "league" is doing.

It is during this time that the fate of the world is decided. (Well, his "fantasy" world, anyway.) This is when my husband's genius math ability serves him well. When half-time is over, he comes downstairs to tell me that he needs "X" to run "A" yards and that "N" on the other guy's team can't score more than "B" touchdowns and his defense must get "Z" total points in the fantasy league or he's in "Y" place. And yet, this is the man that still has a hard time remembering my cell phone number. You figure it out, because I can't.

The funny thing is, I thought that fantasy football was supposed to be an extra bit of fun during the season. I know that watching football is fun. For all the grousing I do about it, I actually enjoy spending time with my husband being engaged in something that he really enjoys. And, it is because of him that I actually like watching the game in the first place. No other man I've had the misfortune of spending time with ever took the time to really explain the game to me. In fact, he took the time to explain things to me while they were actually happening, thereby enhancing my appreciation and understanding immediately. What usually happened in the past was that something would happen that I wouldn't understand, and I would ask a question about the incident. That was always met with a "Not now, honey. I'm watching the game." As though his supreme concentration was needed in order to guarantee a favorable outcome at that time. Then, some 10 or 15 minutes later, he would ask "Now what was your question?" If I could articulate it well enough to remember what it was I was confused about, I wouldn't be asking the question in the first place. Chances are at that point I would know what was going on, thereby negating the question entirely.

But my husband isn't like that. My enjoyment of the game is important to him, but not for any romantic notions of us both enjoying a rowdy Sunday afternoon together. It's mostly because he tells me that I need to be there for "good luck," and to get me to help him watch the ticker showing the stats from other games. So now if I'm going to watch the game, I can still kinda have a good time, but I kinda have to work for him a bit too. But, it's an afternoon together, and that is a very rare thing since he's a police officer with a nightmare schedule, so I'll take it where I can get it and how I can get it. I'm not going to be choosy.

But that whole scenario brings me back to my original point that fantasy football isn't really enhancing the fun at all. It's making it so that football season is even more stressful for the viewers. It's not good enough to know that your favorite team is winning or losing. Now the whole game is just reduced to points and statistics, and for what? What benefit is there to winning the fantasy football "season" besides chest-beating privileges at the coffee machine at work? My husband actually "won" the entire season last year, including their "Super Bowl." He was so proud of himself, and I was already making a list of what we were going to be doing with his prize money. Wait a minute. What do you mean there's no prize money? What kind of horseshit is that? You mean I suffered through that entire process last season for no money? Then what is the purpose? Apparently, he was supposed to get some sort of shiny certificate in the mail stating he "won." A certificate. That's pretty lame, if you ask me. At least Ralphie's dad in A Christmas Story got a neato prize, even if his wife didn't really approve. I could go for a prize like that. And wouldn't you know it: the certificate never came.

But do these disappointments deter my ever-faithful husband from his fantasy endeavors? Not a chance. He's at it again this year, scanning the tickers, charting progress and injuries and generally doing nothing that looks like relaxation to me on his rare days off. But, I do have to accept the fact that no matter how bizarre this behavior is to me, it actually is his way of relaxing, and I should just let him have his fun no matter how perplexing I find it. Ultimately, it really does make him happy, and ultimately that makes me happy. Especially when I can go shopping when his teams, both the real one and the fantasy one, are on a winning streak.

If anyone out there would like to send Marie some fantasy football pointers and actual game predictions so her husband is fooled into believing she actually gives a shit about all this, email them to her at poisongirl@hobotrashcan.com.

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