Fantasy Football

Is there anything more manly than football? I mean really? As one who has played, I can't tell you what it feels like to ram, helmet to helmet into an oncoming running back. Or to chase down a QB. It's a rush of testosterone for sure. So much so, that grown men (most of whom probably did not play) will dress themselves in full football gear just to go to a game and cheer on their team. That will have to be addressed on another day.

About the time I was in 7th grade, somewhere around 1989-90, I remember hearing something pretty strange on the announcements one morning: "for all of you who are interested in the fantasy football club, please meet in room...." Fantasy football club!? What is that? Once I found out, I couldn't help but chuckle and laugh at all of the nerds who would waste their time sitting around with a piece of paper that had their "team" on it and the statistics from the previous days games, compiling scores, and saying to each other, "Booya! I totally wasted you!". What a bunch of morons. "I will NEVER do that". Let's fastforward to now. Fantasy football is now the driving force behind the NFL. It is the heart that pumps interest in the league through many a persons brain. Every stat is so scrupulously followed it's seems ridiculous. There are shows specifically dedicated to fantasy football. Not only football either--but basketball, baseball, and even hockey.

I have always enjoyed the NFL, but since I officially joined clan nerd, I follow EVERY game. Why? Because my "team" is represented by a conglomeration of players from several different teams, and heaven knows, I have to root each player on to high points. I couldn't give two craps if their real team wins , so long as player 'a' scores a TD and has lots and lots of yards--GO TEAM! Even the coolest of the cool are now fantasy football members. It's gotten so bad now, that millions of people even PAY to play it. They can even pretend to be club presidents and managers. My mind is swimming. If only I had seen through the mist of dork in 7th grade, and had some sense of vision beyond my hormones, I would have been one of the pioneers, and would have been drowning in the loot, and would have most likely had my own show on ESPN. But alas, I am one of the herd, trudging along whilst chewing my cud of mediocrity; all the while wishing I would have put my arm around one of those goobers and said, "let's run with this thing baby. I see a bright future here."