My parents don’t get it. My girlfriend doesn’t understand. Even some of my closest friends are bewildered by it. Am I referring to my intense love of mint chocolate chip ice cream? No—I’m talking about Fantasy Football. I’m talking about drafting the best and brightest stars from all 32 NFL teams and then watching the games every Sunday in hopes that they will achieve statistical greatness. But beyond the mechanics of the game, I’m actually talking about fellowship, community, and good natured fun.
You would be hard pressed to find anyone willing to call Fantasy Football a “sport.” Aside from weekly depression, the injury risks are limited to joint pain in the clicking finger and moderate carpel tunnel. However, the skill set required for mythical success is one that includes matchup awareness (for example, NEVER starting Bengals QB Andy Dalton against the Pittsburgh Steelers—or any team, for that matter), savvy negotiation skills (for making transactions), and the mental toughness to overcome smack talk from opponents and projected point differentials estimating that you will lose by twenty.
Despite its unconventional attributes, the payoff of playing fantasy football is undeniable. The bond created between twelve managers over the course of the season is one that is not easily broken. My primary league features family and friends spread out amongst Ohio and Kentucky (and Florida)—teachers, students, hospital workers, lawyers, bank tellers…even police officers. Some have families. Some live with their parents. Some live in a dorm. But they are all united through a fantasy football fellowship.
In addition, an appreciation is developed for the sport of football—for the talent and skill set that it takes to succeed at such a high level in the NFL. Before I had running back Jamaal Charles on my team, I never had a reason to watch, let alone root for, the Kansas City Chiefs. Now I care about the outcome of every game, every week (even Week 17, when many teams have stopped caring as their season is already either lost or playoff bound). And of course, the joy of winning a fantasy football league is euphoric. I only know this because I am the defending champion in my primary league. The taste of victory is sweet like honey.
Many argue that there are better things to do with my time. I could clean my apartment, read textbooks for my seminary courses, or even learn to play the piano. And while all of these options are viable, I can’t see them comparing with determining whether I should play Beanie Wells against Carolina or Sidney Rice against San Francisco. If you haven’t given it a fair shot, I strongly encourage you to do so. Even if you don’t necessarily enjoy watching football, fantasy sports has the ability to change you…for the better.
And don’t even get me started on Fantasy Golf…
