The great virtual pigskin divide

It's that time of year again, where the best NFL players are pitted against one another to see who will come out on top by January. No I'm not talking about about the official start to the professional football season, but rather the kickoff of the fantasy football season, which is steadily becoming a national pastime in itself, causing a rift in many a fantasy football household as this amusing and slightly disturbing Sports Illustrated column explains. 

The first time my husband (then boyfriend) told me he needed to block off an entire day to stay glued to his computer, stepping away only briefly for bathroom breaks induced by the steady supply of beers I so lovingly served him, I thought he was out of his mind. When he offered an "I'm the league commissioner" to my questioning of this insane time commitment I only grew more leery of his sudden mental instability. Seven years, one league championship win and a football-for-dummies education later and fantasy football season and I have come to an understanding. While I can't say I don't still get a little annoyed when my husband suddenly disappears into the office to check his stats when we are in the middle of watching a movie, I can honestly say that fantasy football has significantly raised both my understanding and appreciation of professional football. As mentioned in Chris Ballard's SI piece, apparently there are significant others who feel otherwise, going so far as to organize a support group in the form of Women Against Fantasy Sports. While my husband's fantasy football hobby is just that, a hobby, some of these borderline OCD horror stories would understandably be enough to drive anyone into couples therapy.

As a native-born Los Angelino I was never privy to having a hometown team to root for and thus, among other reasons, never took interest in or understood the game of football. Even as a high school cheerleader I found it difficult to discern which cheers to do as I wasn't able to recognize at which points our team was on offense or defense. For me, learning the rules of the game was the first step towards enjoying it, the second step was about giving a damn, and thats where the sport of fantasy comes into play. While I don't play the game myself, the thrill off rooting on my husband's team in hopes of not only having a happy husband, but possibly a grab at the pot-at-the-end-of-that-fantasy-rainbow cash prize for league champion is enough to have me giving a damn whether the Jets win or lose and guiltily appreciating the fact that Tom Brady is out for the season. Fantasy football adds meaning to watching a bunch of grown men, dressed in spandex pants pile on top of each other and for that I am grateful.