I was going to put my first blog up about something hyper-philosophical. It was going to be one of those life-changing blog posts, the kind that you read, break down into tears, and immediately start questioning your place in the universe. But alas, it is late on a Sunday evening, and fantasy football has consumed my thoughts.
It has become my Sunday afternoon routine. Jade falls asleep on the couch, Mr. Chugs (my dog) barks at the children playing outside, and I sit with the laptop, keeping track of every yard, reception, and touchdown amassed by my fantasy team. With every snap I find myself questioning play-calls by NFL coaches. These coaches have studied the game of football since childhood, but I still get frustrated when Bill Belichick refuses to call plays for Wes Welker on every down.
When one of my players does something good, I immediately notify Jade. “Donald Driver is on my team. He’s the one who caught that pass,” I say. Jade slowly opens her eyes, glances at the TV, then nods off again. Mr. Chugs barks with approval. That dog understands that I got Driver in the 8th round, a steal in most drafts.
It all started a few years ago, when a group of men at my church asked me to participate in their fantasy football league. After a couple of sub-par years, The Republic Tigers (my team which is affectionately named after my high school), now sits atop the Southwest Family Fellowship Fantasy Football league and it feels good.
My team is strong this year, which makes me fear the playoffs. It just takes one playoff loss and you’re out. One bad outing by Dree Brees and all the planning, the calculating, the cheering, and the crying is all for not. Although I fear a let down, what scares me most is my pastor.
Anthony’s team always finds a way to get to the top. I could have Jesus himself as my quarterback, and somehow He would manage to have a bad game the week I played Anthony. It never fails. I think Anthony spends time petitioning God to help out his fantasy players. I have noticed that they heal much quicker than my players.
Sometimes people are surprised to hear that I like football because I don’t fit the normal stereotype. I’m a little skinny musician who wears glasses, likes to read books on philosophy and theology, and is obsessed with writing the best pop-songs my soul can muster. I also love football. In addition, I love NASCAR, but that’s another blog all-together.
The one thing I’ve seen from our little fantasy football league, is that it’s actually become a uniting tool for some of the men in our church. Where before, a middle-aged father of two had little in common with a skinny musician, now we have a common ground…beating our pastor. Beating Anthony only becomes the starting point, and soon we realize that we weren’t that different in the first place, other than the fact that I love NASCAR.
Through this fantasy football experience I’ve learned that humans really are similar. We go through many of the same struggles, and face many of the same obstacles. I heard the comedian Patton Oswalt say that fantasy football was just Dungeons and Dragons for sports fans. It’s true.
Though the focus of our nerdom changes, the fact is, we’re all a bunch of nerds.
