NFL
“My Name is Kyle… (‘Hi, Kyle’)… and I’m a Fantasyholic.”
Aug 11, 2009 20:11
The first and most important step is realizing you have a problem. For years I was in denial, convincing myself that I was merely a social fantasy sports guy. I did it for the camaraderie of draft day. It was fun to talk trash with my friends on the league message board. And if this corps group of my friends had decided to take up, say, canyon hiking, I would have eagerly done that instead. My coffee table magazine stack would have gladly traded Fantasy Football Index for issues of CampingLife.
I didn’t need fantasy football. I could stop at anytime.
But then, rather innocently, you stumble across on one of the hundred or so websites that offer a salary cap game. You just wanted to read football news. You just wanted to spend a couple of minutes catching up on the happenings from NFL training camps.
But then you read, “Draft an entire 22-man starting roster with your own budget of $60 million!”
I could do a lot with $60 million, you think.
“Be your own NFL general manager,” the website heralds.
I could do way better than the real GMs, you delude yourself
“Free,” it lies.
All good general managers, and you would not be spending your time playing this game if you didn’t intend to be a great general manager, make moves. You trade players, pick up free agents, and dump the dead weight. And well, those things cost money. So you justify: If I’m going to be entrusted with $60 million of salary and the future of a professional football team, what’s $9.95 out of my own pocket.
And now you are hooked.
$9.95 turns to $19.95, turns to $29.95, turns to a stack of books, magazines, and website subscriptions that run past $100 with no signs of stopping.
Your one small football league with your friends – and now one Internet based salary cap league – quickly steamrolls into so many live fantasy drafts in the final week of August that you actually turn down a date with the hot girl who works three cubicles down.
You are now playing in nearly a dozen salary cap leagues across the online spectrum because: Hey, I could win $5,000 per league. With my skills it’d be foolish not to play. And before you know it you’re in a basketball league, even though you haven’t watched a complete game since the ’96 NBA Finals; you find out that Mario Lemieux retired from the NHL years ago after you stupidly tried to draft him in your new hockey league, setting the stage for your new “Super Mario” nickname and demands from your league mates that after each subsequent draft pick you hum the video game’s theme song; and you find yourself turning down yet another date so you can instead watch the 3rd round of The Texas Honing Open because you have Keegan Bradley on your NGA Hooter’s Pro Golf Tour Fantasy Team.
That, my friends, is rock bottom. You are delusional no more.
I am a fantasyholic, sober since December of 2006.
I’m not going to pretend that my sobriety comes easy. Far from it. I find myself walking extra close to the magazine rack this time of year, hoping to catch a glimpse of the cover of ESPN The Magazine’s fantasy football edition. Who are their top-10 running backs for 2009?
On CBSSports.com the “Fantasy” tab sits right next to the “Home” tab, beckoning with its siren song of delights that lay beyond. Fortunately I haven’t slipped up yet and clicked on the wrong one. I’ve stayed strong. I’ve even found myself going out of my way to stay with ESPN.com, where the “Fantasy” tab gets lost between “Page 2” and “Video”. Better to avoid the temptation. Stay out of the corner 7-11, so to speak. Even though I might really want a Slurpee, it’s also a very short walk from there to the beer cooler.
One click, and that could be the beginning of another slide. One phone call from a friend, begging you to fill in for a guy who dropped out of their league just two days before the draft, is a guaranteed 72-hour bender that involves you, a 12-pack of Mountain Dew, and the best ten fantasy sources the internet has to offer. And no doubt your credit card will make an appearance or two… or three.
It would not end well.
Sobriety is no picnic. It requires work. Hard work. But it does have its advantages.
I can proudly say for the first time in 15 years that I do not know the two-deep tight end depth charts for all 32 NFL teams. I can’t name you the teams that have a bye in week 6, and it is liberating. And this coming fall when I watch my Kansas City Chiefs there will absolutely be no conflicts of interest.
My days of convolutedly rooting for Chiefs wins, while also pulling for LaDainian Tomlinson to score lots of touchdowns against those same Chiefs, are over. I will never, ever, have to cheer for a member of the Oakland Raiders because he also happens to be playing against the team I’m tied for a wildcard slot with. And my Tuesday mornings will never revolve around the earliest read on the previous weekend’s injury report.
I am a football fan. Nothing more.
I didn’t need fantasy football. I could stop at anytime.
But then, rather innocently, you stumble across on one of the hundred or so websites that offer a salary cap game. You just wanted to read football news. You just wanted to spend a couple of minutes catching up on the happenings from NFL training camps.
But then you read, “Draft an entire 22-man starting roster with your own budget of $60 million!”
I could do a lot with $60 million, you think.
“Be your own NFL general manager,” the website heralds.
I could do way better than the real GMs, you delude yourself
“Free,” it lies.
All good general managers, and you would not be spending your time playing this game if you didn’t intend to be a great general manager, make moves. You trade players, pick up free agents, and dump the dead weight. And well, those things cost money. So you justify: If I’m going to be entrusted with $60 million of salary and the future of a professional football team, what’s $9.95 out of my own pocket.
And now you are hooked.
$9.95 turns to $19.95, turns to $29.95, turns to a stack of books, magazines, and website subscriptions that run past $100 with no signs of stopping.
Your one small football league with your friends – and now one Internet based salary cap league – quickly steamrolls into so many live fantasy drafts in the final week of August that you actually turn down a date with the hot girl who works three cubicles down.
You are now playing in nearly a dozen salary cap leagues across the online spectrum because: Hey, I could win $5,000 per league. With my skills it’d be foolish not to play. And before you know it you’re in a basketball league, even though you haven’t watched a complete game since the ’96 NBA Finals; you find out that Mario Lemieux retired from the NHL years ago after you stupidly tried to draft him in your new hockey league, setting the stage for your new “Super Mario” nickname and demands from your league mates that after each subsequent draft pick you hum the video game’s theme song; and you find yourself turning down yet another date so you can instead watch the 3rd round of The Texas Honing Open because you have Keegan Bradley on your NGA Hooter’s Pro Golf Tour Fantasy Team.
That, my friends, is rock bottom. You are delusional no more.
I am a fantasyholic, sober since December of 2006.
I’m not going to pretend that my sobriety comes easy. Far from it. I find myself walking extra close to the magazine rack this time of year, hoping to catch a glimpse of the cover of ESPN The Magazine’s fantasy football edition. Who are their top-10 running backs for 2009?
On CBSSports.com the “Fantasy” tab sits right next to the “Home” tab, beckoning with its siren song of delights that lay beyond. Fortunately I haven’t slipped up yet and clicked on the wrong one. I’ve stayed strong. I’ve even found myself going out of my way to stay with ESPN.com, where the “Fantasy” tab gets lost between “Page 2” and “Video”. Better to avoid the temptation. Stay out of the corner 7-11, so to speak. Even though I might really want a Slurpee, it’s also a very short walk from there to the beer cooler.
One click, and that could be the beginning of another slide. One phone call from a friend, begging you to fill in for a guy who dropped out of their league just two days before the draft, is a guaranteed 72-hour bender that involves you, a 12-pack of Mountain Dew, and the best ten fantasy sources the internet has to offer. And no doubt your credit card will make an appearance or two… or three.
It would not end well.
Sobriety is no picnic. It requires work. Hard work. But it does have its advantages.
I can proudly say for the first time in 15 years that I do not know the two-deep tight end depth charts for all 32 NFL teams. I can’t name you the teams that have a bye in week 6, and it is liberating. And this coming fall when I watch my Kansas City Chiefs there will absolutely be no conflicts of interest.
My days of convolutedly rooting for Chiefs wins, while also pulling for LaDainian Tomlinson to score lots of touchdowns against those same Chiefs, are over. I will never, ever, have to cheer for a member of the Oakland Raiders because he also happens to be playing against the team I’m tied for a wildcard slot with. And my Tuesday mornings will never revolve around the earliest read on the previous weekend’s injury report.
I am a football fan. Nothing more.
The NFL's Dog Days are Here
Jul 27, 2009 14:12
Michael Vick has been reinstated to the NFL by commissioner Roger Goodell, exactly as he should have been.
I know. He’s a bad guy. He was just in federal prison. He tortured dogs, man’s unquestioned best friend (only slightly challenged in stature by the refrigerator/La-Z-Boy). Bottom line, he’s a bad guy. The NFL is no place for someone like Michael Vick.
Think about that statement and ask yourself: Does the reinstatement of Michael Vick upset the delicate balance of the church-going Boy Scouts that make up the players of the National Football League?
Being a “good guy” has never been a requirement for NFL eligibility. Just check the police blotter’s on any given Monday morning. So it’s ridiculous to then conclude that being a “bad guy” should leave you stuck on the outside of the league looking in. Vick has paid an enormous price for his crime, as he should have. In fact, he paid a bigger price than most because he had a far greater amount (money, fame, status, fans) to lose. And most of it will remain gone forever, whether he plays football again or spends his remaining days bagging groceries.
It should also be clear that Vick’s conditional reinstatement is by no means a guarantee that he will ever play again. Teams can sign him, but they do so at their own peril. Any general manager that takes a chance on Vick will have some serious explaining to do to his team’s fans. And if that signing were to blow up in his face… well… he’d have some serious resume updating to do.
Now that he is back in the league, Michael Vick vaults to the top every team’s risk assessment chart. And in this world of “what have you done for me yesterday” I expect that most GMs will simply rate the gamble too great. With tenures short and angry season ticket-fan bases to be feared, the league’s 32 decision makers run from possible player implosions faster than Vick through a flat-footed secondary.
I certainly don’t want to see my beloved Kansas City Chiefs sign Michael Vick. For one, we don’t need a quarterback. But more importantly, we don’t need the headache. And Vick, even if he spends the rest of his time on Earth upstaging the life and legacy of Mother Theresa, comes with a giant headache. What do you suppose the over/under would be on questions directed to the rest of the men in that future locker room that contain the word “dog?”
Do you think any of them want the headache?
Michael Vick, as he should have been, was given back his right to pursue a career in the National Football League. But fans certainly have the right to continue to dislike him. And teams most definitely have the right to consider his signing a very bad idea.
I know. He’s a bad guy. He was just in federal prison. He tortured dogs, man’s unquestioned best friend (only slightly challenged in stature by the refrigerator/La-Z-Boy). Bottom line, he’s a bad guy. The NFL is no place for someone like Michael Vick.
Think about that statement and ask yourself: Does the reinstatement of Michael Vick upset the delicate balance of the church-going Boy Scouts that make up the players of the National Football League?
Being a “good guy” has never been a requirement for NFL eligibility. Just check the police blotter’s on any given Monday morning. So it’s ridiculous to then conclude that being a “bad guy” should leave you stuck on the outside of the league looking in. Vick has paid an enormous price for his crime, as he should have. In fact, he paid a bigger price than most because he had a far greater amount (money, fame, status, fans) to lose. And most of it will remain gone forever, whether he plays football again or spends his remaining days bagging groceries.
It should also be clear that Vick’s conditional reinstatement is by no means a guarantee that he will ever play again. Teams can sign him, but they do so at their own peril. Any general manager that takes a chance on Vick will have some serious explaining to do to his team’s fans. And if that signing were to blow up in his face… well… he’d have some serious resume updating to do.
Now that he is back in the league, Michael Vick vaults to the top every team’s risk assessment chart. And in this world of “what have you done for me yesterday” I expect that most GMs will simply rate the gamble too great. With tenures short and angry season ticket-fan bases to be feared, the league’s 32 decision makers run from possible player implosions faster than Vick through a flat-footed secondary.
I certainly don’t want to see my beloved Kansas City Chiefs sign Michael Vick. For one, we don’t need a quarterback. But more importantly, we don’t need the headache. And Vick, even if he spends the rest of his time on Earth upstaging the life and legacy of Mother Theresa, comes with a giant headache. What do you suppose the over/under would be on questions directed to the rest of the men in that future locker room that contain the word “dog?”
Do you think any of them want the headache?
Michael Vick, as he should have been, was given back his right to pursue a career in the National Football League. But fans certainly have the right to continue to dislike him. And teams most definitely have the right to consider his signing a very bad idea.