I hate fantasy football. I really do, man.
I hate how it’s all but eroded my interest in football purely as a fan, to enjoy the game for what it is and not what consequences it may have on my Week 13 matchup.
…hate that it fools me into believing my undivided attention to the phone, iPad, and television will add a single point to my team’s weekly tally.
…hate I tell friends in the league that I refuse to check my fantasy score on Sundays – because I’m better than that – only to grab for my phone whenever one of my starting running backs peels off a bruising 4-yard run.
…hate how the prospect of a 6-point, 50-yard game-winning field goal for my fantasy kicker trumps the rooting interest in my favorite team.
…hate how “watching football” is really just saying “I’ll be monitoring the screen’s 1-inch scroll of NFL scores and stats for the next three hours, honey”.
…hate how the quality of my Sunday swings on an 8/155/1 stat line.
…hate how worry and greed manifest, regardless of whether you’re up or down 100 points.
…hate how “I should’ve started Player X” is a sentence I felt relevant and important enough to verbalize during dinner.
… hate how past returns are not indicative of future performance (To hell with you, Alfred Morris).
… appreciate another year to use fantasy football as a clever excuse to stay connected with old friends.
See you next season.