Look… I love sports. Competed on the playing pitch. Watch it on TV. Read the papers. Have my favorite teams & favorite players on my favorite teams. But these fantasy leagues are ruining professional sports. It’s out of control. It’s not a fantasy… it’s a nightmare.
When they first came on the scene it sounded like fun. You know… create your own team of players… like a General Manager of a professional team would do. You know… play “pretend”: take a hot shot Pittsburgh Pirate for First Base, a top hitting Second Sacker from the Cubbies and, even though I hate the Red Sox, how can I pass up taking What’s-his-name for Center. And that’s how it goes. Fill up your team, a personal All-Star Team. Fair enough.
Then we’ll assign values for measuring performance. Getting a single is worth this, a double that… so much for an RBI, stolen base… For Pitchers: strikeouts, earned runs given up etc. You get the idea. Then you can see how your team did, last Tuesday say, against Fat-Lou-in-Accounting’s Team… the one that has the Braves’ ace Left Hander, the Right Fielder from the Reds, the Dodger Backstop… and, and… this is what hurts… the Yankee Shortstop. How did that lucky son-of-a-bitch get our Shortstop? Give me a break! Geeze… Fat Lou! That fat turd with glasses! He can’t keep his shirt tucked in… and he has post nasal drip. Shit! He doesn’t even like baseball! He knows shit from shortcake about baseball and he has our Shortstop?!
At the end of the season… we’ll see which Fantasy Team did the best. The winner gets a gift certificate to the Olive Garden, Ruby Tuesdays or T.G.I Friday’s. It will probably be Sheila in Mergers and Acquisitions (who also knows dick about baseball).
You see what I’m saying? It’s out of control.
Football maybe even worse! The Monday before the start of the season I happened to be over at Ash Creek Saloon (I had been advised earlier in the day by the bar staff that they had an unfortunate surplus of my brand of rye whisky). I was busy addressing the inventory issue when I noticed that there was extra activity in the side room. Several large white poster boards on easels were lined up in the room… maybe the boys were running the results from a variety of racetracks? It was too early for election night… and besides, what candidate would run his or her campaign from the side room at Ash Creek?
No… this was draft night! And I’m not talking about $2 for Coors Light. No… these were men (grown men), wearing football jerseys of their favorites… Manning, Shockey,Tomlinson… and they were busy divvying up the NFL talent pool onto their Fantasy Teams… and this little bit of theatre was meant to follow the way the NFL conducts their College Draft in the Spring. Each person was allowed so many minutes to make his selection…
And here comes a guy from the “war room”… he has a fist full of papers, a tip sheet (this is true) telling him the values of the position players, a list of the available players in the draft… cutting a sweat, he is seeking some advice from one of the regulars “who should I pick up for my third reciever?” And while getting counsel he takes a brief pause, “Kelly, I’ll have a Bass and a shot of Jack…” Someone else comes out of Draft Central… “Marty! Get back in there! You’re on the clock! You gotta make your selection!” Marty downs the shot… asks for another. The guy is a fucking wreck!
Out of control.
There is Fantasy Basketball and Hockey, too. And it’s just as destructive.
There is something flat wrong in any enterprise that causes us to split our allegiance. I’m a Colts fan. Edgerin James was our star running back for several years. He is now wearing a different coloured jersey. Sorry. I don’t wish him personal ill. But I can’t root for him over the guy who is carrying the ball for us now. And the day that the Cardinals play the Colts, may “Edge” have a case of painful rectal itch and gain absolutely zero yardage.
As a sports fan we can respect the accomplishments of the other players. That’s fine. But none of this, “I know the Colts didn’t win; but I had Tom Brady on my Fantasy Team bullshit”.
Can you imagine this in any other sphere? “Yeah, we just got our asses kicked at Kasserine Pass; but I had Field Marshal Rommel on my Fantasy Team!”
And in between games the nonsense continues. Conversations at the water cooler, the emails fly & text messages flood cyber space. And the trades! Of course! Just like in real life! Get rid of some slacker and pick up some hidden gem. No wonder our work productivity is down the toilet… we spend too much time trying to pick up a left-handed closer or a new place kicker.
Do you think I can trade Montgomery for von Rundstedt?
Totally out of control.
But before I leave… and I feel a bit sheepish about this, considering the length of time I have spent venting, but I just finished putting together my Fantasy Team of a different stripe… and I thought I would share it with you.
President: FDR
Secretary of State: Thos. Jefferson
Secretary of Defense: Edwin Stanton
Attorney General: Ramsey Clark
Ambassador to the U.N.: Adlai Stevenson
General of the Army: Dwight Eisenhower
Vice President: Chester A. Arthur
The latter choice because he graduated from Union College and walked important. Now you have to excuse me, I am going to see if I can pick up Abba Eban off the waiver wire.