You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.™
Fantasy Football
Tonight is my league’s 17th annual draft. Yes 17 years. A group of us started playing fantasy football in West Michigan back in 1995.
We started playing before the Internet, before ESPN instant calculations. We had as much technology as a garage door opener and a USA Today. We had to crunch numbers from box scores. We didn’t know who won sometimes till Wednesday.
Tonight is our 17th annual draft.
That’s the good news. It makes irrlevant games fun. The bad news? I am in Atlanta, at a little boy’s soccer tournament.
Normally I like to be seated at my kitchen table with a beer and my computer on ESPN and the the NFL channel on in the background.
This year, my fear is I will be driving on I-24, returning late in the day. If that’s the case, I will be wedged between sweaty kids and a soccer dad listening to Motown on Sirius xm radio.
The draft starts at 6pm CST. I’m at a soccer complex knee deep in Hot-lanta. It’s a final game. It’s down to the last whistle. Then there’s a a medal ceremony. Then there’s a 4 hour plus car drive back to Nashville. It’s raining. It’s labor day traffic.
If I have to draft on the road, I will be looking at my iphone and trying to draft a team while driving 70 miles an hour, dodging big rigs and distracted drivers.
If I have to draft in the car, it is going to be a challenge. 9 other owners are gathering in a west Michigan watering hole to eat drink and be merry.
But they are there to mostly draft. They will have their computers and notes and draft plan. Chances are, their table will not be driving over a mountain.
I laugh thinking that I could be getting random texts that read: Adrian Foster. Aaron Rogers. Tony Romo. It’s going to be a bit distracting.
I have as much chance of drafting well on the move as a chocolate chip cookie has of lasting more than a minute at a weight watchers convention. Drafting on i-24 is going to be hard, like ordering a Jack and Coke in Riyhad Saudi Arabia is hard.
Kids whining. Radio blaring. Tires roaring. occasional pit stops for food, for drinks, to take a pee.
I won this league last year. It’s hard to win this league with a perfectly stocked fridge and flat screen in front of you. Everything has to go your way. This could be my most challenging draft yet.
I’m imagining being on the road. I’m hopeful that my iphone battery lasts and cell reception stays active above 3 bars.
I’ve got the third pick. I Sure hope I don’t lose my signal somewhere in the mountains of Chattanooga and they pick for me, tired of waiting.
If type Aaron Rogers in my iphone will Serie tell my commissioner I tried to draft Avon Rogelli? It’s possible. Serie is a woman and she doesn’t care for fantasy football i hear.
Tick tock. Tick tock. Miles and miles to drive. Rain, sun, more rain. Stop at Wendy’s. Listen to the Yankees game. Tick Tock.
Suddenly some good news.
The GPS indicates we will arrive at 5:45 pm. If true, that will give me 15 minutes to prepare.
And low and behold, we arrive at 5:45.
I wave good bye and throw my suitcase on the floor. I grab an adult beverage. I Fire up the cell phone battery. I get my notes ready on the kitchen counter.
I’m rushed, but at least the house is not making an illegal lane change.
At 6:02 pm, the phone buzzes. The first pick, Aaron Rogers, is off the board.
And year 17 begins.
I wonder if Avon Rogelli is still available?
Awesome. And that is crazy.™