Each year I get at least two or three invites to participate in some new Fantasy Football league that’s just popped up. When I don’t sign-up, the question always comes up, “Why didn’t you join the Fantasy Football league?” My answer: I hate Fantasy Football. Loathe it. Not because of what it is, but because of what it does to so many otherwise intelligent and rational people. I liken it to heroine as it turns normal dudes into crazy-eyed, stat geeks who at some point inevitably cross the line into the realm of the one unforgivable sin of football fandom: cheering for an arch-rival because you need the points. It’s like being a University of Oklahoma fan rooting for Texas to score in the Red River Shootout because roommates Colt McCoy and Jordan Shipley happen to be on your Fantasy Football team.

OK. Enough with the intro. Here’s my list of 10 reasons why I am a Fantasy Football conscientious objector.

1. Fantasy and Football are two words that just don’t go together. Either you play on, coach, or own a football team or you’re a fan. Real men don’t fantasize about playing on, coaching, or owning football teams. If that’s something you aspire to some day, stop fantasizing about it and do something to make it happen. Maybe if you spent less time crunching the numbers for your Fantasy Football team and more time crunching the numbers for your stock portfolio you might actually be able to buy a real sports franchise some day.

2. Football is a team sport and Fantasy Football focuses too much on individuals. I find the emphasis on the exploits of individuals to be less than awesome. Football is a team sport meant to be played by teams of players, coached by teams of coaches, covered by teams of media people, and cheered on by teams of spectators.

3. I’m a football purist. Fantasy Football takes away from the original glory of the game. At it’s best, football is about 11 guys lining up across the line from 11 other guys slugging it out for 60 minutes to see who’s going to make the fewest mistakes and come out on top despite their blood and bruises. It’s 11 guys working together to score touchdowns vs 11 guys working together to stop touchdowns. Who cares what stats the rest of the individuals in the league put up last week? All that matters is what happens between the goal lines and hash marks of one game at a time. Football is a smelly, violent, dirty, messy, at times chaotic, at times cold, at times wet, loud, and dangerous game. Fantasy Football is sterile, safe, clean, and orderly. It takes a game that was meant to be played on dirt and grass and diminishes it to something that’s better suited for the friendly confines of an Excel spreadsheet and a dimly lit office cubicle.

4. There’s other things I’d rather spend my time doing. Such as: watching one game at a time, or spending time with my wife, or mowing my grass, or fishing, or reading, or sticking toothpicks under my toenails while I kick a wall, or any number of other activities I’d rather occupy my time with besides worrying about what kind of stats some no-name receiver from the Seattle Seahawks put up on Sunday evening.

5. Fantasy Football brings out the worst in people. You all know what I’m talking about. Every Fantasy Football league has this guy. The one who everyone thought was a pretty decent dude until the first week of games started and his trash-talking, complaining, immature, jagweed ways reared their ugly head in the emails and message board threads of whatever Fantasy Football league you participate in. And, as my man Jim Rome says, “If you don’t know who this guy is in your league, it’s you.”

6. Which leads me to my next point… MESSAGE BOARD SMACK TALK. It doesn’t matter if he’s five foot nothin, a hundred and nothin, give a man a keyboard, computer, and a little bit of anonymity and all the sudden he thinks he’s Dick Butkus or Brian Bosworth. Talking smack on a Fantasy Football message board is not manly. If you want to pwn some n00bs, go play Halo or Dungeons and Dragons. If you want to talk smack, then go to a real football game, walk up to a real tailgating party filled with real, large, and intoxicated fans of the opposing team, and we’ll see how big your smack talk is then homeboy.

7. Fantasy Football team names are stupid to say the least and inappropriate at best. The Whizzinators? The Naked Bootleggers? The Magical Unicorns? Pummel U? Snakes on a Football Team? <—-These are real Fantasy Football team names from real Fantasy Football leagues. Come on, really? OK… I admit, Snakes on a Football Team is actually pretty good. But you get the point.

8. I could be wrong, but last time I checked, there’s no such thing as scoring points for a BIG HIT or PANCAKE BLOCK in Fantasy Football.

9. Draft strategies. Seriously? Strategies? The only people in football that are supposed to have strategies are the owners, coaches, players, and maybe the referees. I guess you could put the hot dog vendors in that group as well because they have to figure out where in the stadium to go to maximize both their profit and their viewing of the skirmish. The only strategies I, as a fan, should ever be concerned about are A) how early to leave my house to get to the game on time, B) where to park once I get there, 3) how to maximize my chances for a speedy exit after the game, and D) how many layers to wear (or not wear) depending on the weather for optimal viewing comfort at outdoor stadiums.

10. **Fantasy Football is Dungeons and Dragons for the guys who used to make fun of the guys who played Dungeons and Dragons. Seriously. The phrase “I can’t play Vick this week because it’s on real grass and he’s not effective on grass and Heinz Field has been a horrible venue for him”, is just a variation of “I would love to play Thorgin the Elvish Centaur but the Cave of Doom has Fire Fungus that the Horned Gorgar uses to his advantage so Thorgin’s Crystal Sword of Power is rendered useless there”.

DISCLAIMER: I know this post will probably ruffle some feathers. Please don’t take it personally if you happen to be a Fantasy Football junky. I just needed to get this off my chest. I may hate the sin but that doesn’t mean I don’t love the sinner.

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**Number ten is not mine, but it was so good, I had to include it.

The following is a guest post from my lovely and talented wife about recent events involving me, a door to our home, and my burgeoning skills as a home invader. Sorry for a duplication of pictures… this was actually written for her blog and I’m only re-posting here… with permission of course. At some point, I may post my version of this story; however, it may be awhile before that happens. How long? Not sure, but I CAN tell you that it will be AFTER the $550 check for the installation and purchase of a new pre-hung door clears our bank.

When I am at work and in session my phone goes on silent, and I don’t look at it. It’s always a bit unsettling to look at your phone and have multiple missed calls and texts from your spouse.

Luckily, being the pregnant one, I knew we weren’t going into labor. The last text I had read: “So sorry…we needed a new back door anyway.”

WHAT? This was the first night of Michael’s class so I knew he wasn’t going to be available if I called back. So I headed home to see this…

this…

and finally:

on the side door in our kitchen.

The rest of the story:

Michael came home between work and class and locked the doors to the house when he left for school. He then realized the keys to his car AND the house were still inside the house. He tried to call me multiple times, but as mentioned I was not available. Up until a few weeks ago we had 60 year old windows on our house that he had figured out how to jimmy open and get in the house. But we replaced those. With very little time until his first class started, what else was there to do? In less than 5 minutes, by throwing his shoulder into the side door of our house repeatedly, he busted the door down. I would think this would cause some pain and great soreness, but he says he is fine.

As we talked over cake that night after class I wondered when this will be something we laugh about. Not sure we are laughing quite yet, but we will.

Lessons learned:

*If you ever need a pre-hung door installed it will be in the neighborhood of $550
*We will be hiding a key outside our house somewhere ASAP!

All things considered, I think she’s taking it pretty well, don’t you? Sometimes it’s a really good thing to be married to an emotionally attuned, level-headed, Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist.

Other lessons I learned from this experience:

1. When you’re locked out of your house and your car keys are inside on your first day of doctoral studies and you need to get to class, call a cab.
2. It’s cheaper to call a cab.
3. Next time, call a cab.
4. I could have saved a few hundred dollars if I’d called a cab.
5. Call a cab.