I'm a football nut. And like many football nuts, I've grown to be a fantasy football junkie. It's a wonderful diversion - part competition, part entertainment. A game, rooted in reality. It's a great way to make the actual games even more interesting. I frequently find that there's a game on that features two teams that I don't have a particular interest in, but having my starting running back in the game suddenly makes the game considerably more enjoyable. Fantasy football is one of life's little pleasures.
Until late December, when it becomes hell. Inevitably, you find yourself cheering for a player while hoping his team loses. You need his performance for your fantasy team to win, but you need his team to lose to help your own favorite team get into the playoffs. You start thinking of bizarre scenarios that somehow have everything play out in your favor... it maddening.
Right now, my fantasy team is playing for the league championship... but I need two of my players to lose today (which it's starting to look like they will) in order for my favorite real-world team to stay alive in the playoff hunt. Of course, I still need those players to put up some numbers, or my hope of winning the fantasy game will be dashed.
It's an emotional roller coaster. Torn between two loves. A sick addiction to the thrill, and the disappointment.
In the end, my Steamrollers may not end up being the PFA champs; my Bills may be sitting at home in January, but by August, I'll be hungry for the punishment all over again.
