This post isn’t about how Christian Ponder‘s butt looks in his football pants (but have you seen…?). It’s about a game hobby lifestyle that my fiance has been practicing for longer than I’ve known him. It’s set in a fantasy world where fans create a super team to battle other super teams and whoever wins gets money (I don’t know, it sounds like a game to me?). Fantasy football, my friends. In the past, this phenomenon has gone through the stages of oblivity (is that a word?) to nuisance to hatred until now. They say if you can’t beat em, join em so here we are. I am now a fantasy footballer. I was presented the opportunity to play in a league with the fiance and some of our couple friends, and I said sure, I’m in. Then I had the bright idea to start my own all-girl league, something I’m not even sure was allowed in the world of fantasy football before now. Finally, (and this sounds so loser-ish) in my time wasted staring at the message boards on theknot.com, I have mostly contributed to a group for brides getting married in July 2012. One of the girls in the group decided to make a league for us and baby makes three. THREE. I went from getting annoyed at the fiance for looking at his stats and twitter and his secret websites every. thirty. seconds. to having THREE leagues myself. I’m kind of scared for what this means for many of my friendships and my relationship. I am uber competitive and I’m not very happy (or nice) when I lose. Some might say I’m a sore loser, but I would say I just prefer to be a winner, something I’m very accustomed to. Growing up, I competed in cheerleading from second grade through high school and even into college. My town must have been putting something in its water because my town competition cheerleading team during the pee-wee years was able to run with the big dogs and we held our own, placing in the top 12 at All-Star Nationals in 6th grade. For three years, we went undefeated and winning was expected, if not assumed. Other towns devised plans and planted spies to deter us from victory, but it never worked and Vernon still holds a high standard for the sport (yes I said sport. Don’t go there.) Ever since, (and possibly before) losing at anything makes my blood boil and I will stubbornly fight to my wit’s end to hold onto any plausible reason for a re-match. This is also the reason why I hate playing Madden with the fiance because I do NOT know how to play and it’s near impossible to beat him. Which is not fun for me, because losing makes me want to rip my hair out one by one. Anyway this billion word rambling post has a point. I’m excited to play, but I’m mostly nervous that my asshole self could end up throwing a temper tantrum over a close loss, which is not pretty and definitely not something that still relatively new friends need to witness. I’d like to hang on to those friends if at all possible. And for that matter, fiancizzle is even WORSE especially when it comes to fantasy football. I’ve learned that Sunday nights can go one of two ways: amazing happy yay yay yay! or scary hide in the bedroom because Ron is losing and the tv-yelling will hurt your ears. Combined with my stubborn don’twannalosenononono attitude, there will definitely be some interesting Sunday nights in our apartment. Especially since I ACCIDENTALLY stole half his team in our draft. I can’t help it if all my football knowledge comes from him (and the cheat sheet he helped me make for my all-girl draft, baha). I suppose only time will tell. Let the best man woman win.
All-Girl Draft Boards are Pretty
