Monday, September 12, 2011

the league


In the midst of my brother's sudden illness, other downer news, and everyone's general bumminess about things, I'd almost forgotten about my newest obsession/hobby/major manifestation of stress and anxiety.

Fantasy Football.

OK. I know, I hate me too. Just hear me out.

I've been invited for years to join one of these fake sport leagues for people who are obsessed with a certain sport and just can't get enough of it and aren't good enough to play it professionally.

 I love college football and getting drunk and tailgating and singing Carmen Ohio and crying over losing games, but I don't follow pro football at all and I really don't need something else that I'll ultimately and inevitably become emotionally invested in and lose my shit over.

So I always cheerfully say "No thanks!" and carry on with my life. Which is exactly what I did this year.

Until Manfriend joined a league with all of my college friends and former college roommates and they were going to be smack talking and discussing it like all the time and omg I don't want to be the left out loser in the corner who has no idea what they're talking about so I cope by eating my feelings and chewing on my hair.

At almost the very last second I gave in decided to join. NO big whoop, I wasn't going to get too involved, I just wanted to be kinda sorta in the loop.

So the night before the draft, I rested my head upon my pillow and drifted off to sleep without a care in the world. I probably dreamed about shoes and champagne, and canoeing on a river, and bubble gum. It was a solid sleep.

I got to work that morning and figured I'd do a tiny bit of research to see who I should select for my team- The Draft was at 7pm.

And I got to the first website and promptly freaked the fuck out.

Because this shit is seriously, seriously involved. One of the first tidbits of advice I came across was something like this: 'NEVER BE LATE FOR THE DRAFT. Would you show up late to a job interview? Of course not- and THE DRAFT is more important than any job interview, so be on time.'

Ever heard of a Sleeper?

Welp, I hadn't.

I felt lost and out of control and suddenly very at risk to become a loser, THE loser.

And so I did what came naturally to me, I became completely and totally obsessed.

I had approximately ten hours from the time I became fixated on fantasy football until the auction style draft. Ten hours to learn everything about players, team, and the rules. And I was starting with absolutely nothing, so I was essentially screwed.

Let me tell you, people are fucking unreal about this stuff. It means more to them than their real lives. THEY DON'T ACTUALLY HAVE REAL LIVES.  I don't know how I'm going to manage this one team and we're talking MULTIPLE TEAMS for a lot of these guys.

When I left work at 5 pm the day of the draft, I was armed with a belly full of panic and a stack of post it notes with random names and tidbits of wisdom scrawled all over them. my plan was to rush home and make CHARTS and nonchalantly pump Manfriend for information.

Five minutes after arriving home, I'm certain that he wanted to kill me. I was already half a beer deep and I could not sit still. My eyes were darting around. Post its were everywhere. I'm surprised he didn't just strangle me there to put my out of my misery.

Manfriend tried to keep reminding me that it's "Just for fun!" to which I wailed "I WON'T HAVE FUN IF I'M A LOSER!!!!"

Which, is obviously true. I don't really partake in things I'm not good at. I know that sounds pretty pathetic, but I mean, why would I? I try everything and then continue doing the things I found myself to excel at because they're the most enjoyable for me. Hence, not playing video games.

About an hour before the draft I was left home alone so Manfriend cold procure another computer and a six pack. For me. To ease my nerves. And because he honestly couldn't stand to be around my ridiculous stress level anymore. Easy for him, he actually watches the games!


Anyway, in case you were wondering, the draft went fine. I played it pretty conservative with the fake-money auction, which is in stark contrast to real life where I throw my money everywhere except in a savings account and spread it as thinly as possible to insure I get the most possible cheap thrills. I actually got pretty drunk and deeply regretted it the entire next day at work. I also got most of the players I had my heart set on and it was OBVIOUS that I'd done my homework more than anyone else.

To me, at least.

I will declare myself the FANTASY FOOTBALL QUEEN if all goes according to my master plan.

Stand by.

XO Sara

1 comment:

  1. Dude, I don't know anything about football. I need to learn this shit!