Fantasy football, why do I do it? It’s not because I want to be “one of the guys,” but I want to be “one of MY guys.” Anticipation fills the air in my house every time this year and nope it’s not because the new season of “Desperate Housewives” or “The Good Wife” debuts. The tension, pressure, and excitement build with the start of football season, fantasy football to be exact. Often I feel left out of the female world because I’m so entrenched in a testosterone filled house. While I know the difference between a safety blitz, nickel package or a cover-two defense, my boys can’t and won’t learn the difference between pink, hot pink, magenta, and fuchsia. This year I delayed picking my fantasy players all in an effort to get my boys to do something I like. Just once I want one of my guys to go shopping with me without acting like I just sentenced them to death, and they’re appealing their case in front of the Supreme Court. Why is so hard to get a little glitter in this house? I asked or should I say stated, “I think we should all start doing yoga together.”
The response I got…, “Boys don’t do yoga!” What? I’m all alone in my girl world and to fight off the loneliness; I must infiltrate their world. Do I care about football? Heck NO! But the reality is I care about my boys. So let the games begin. Did I mention I have quite the record when it comes to fantasy football? In fact, I’ve beat my hubby every year. And now my boys are learning their mom has a few moves of her own. As the first week of fantasy football has come to a close, a new feeling has emerged in my house…victory. I managed to maintain my status as a football goddess, 140 points to be exact. I feel like an eight-year-old girl by chanting, “Boys drool, GIRLS RULE!” In this house, fantasy football is more than just a game; it’s a life lesson. If you’re gonna, call out Mommy be prepared, because she is. Did I mention I’ve also learned a couple of lessons myself? Don’t judge a player by how much he’s worth, but by how he performs. I discovered too many athletes are totally overrated. I like the “sleepers,” the guys with talent that no one has noticed yet. They usually cost less and surprise you. Just the way I like my boys.
