I don’t care about your Fantasy team

Here’s something a lot of people need to hear: you’re not special. That goes towards almost all facets of life, but in this instance, I’m focusing on those who play fantasy football. Almost everyone, including women who don’t watch football and the guys who casually watch as an excuse to get drunk on a Sunday while they eat their body weight in wings, are in some sort of fantasy league. The worst part is these people somehow tend to do pretty good, probably because they don’t overthink things like the majority of us who spend their work week analyzing stats and reading Matthew Berry while simultaneously refreshing ESPNs fantasy rankings as opposed to doing our actual jobs. It’s the same thing with March Madness brackets, your friends girlfriends sister who you didn’t even know was in the pool will somehow win the whole thing.

Its just the way the world is now, we all play. You’re not in some secret club that needs a handshake and password to get into. I have my own (shitty) team. In my own league. With my own winnings/bragging rights at stake. That’s how every league works. I don’t need to come in on a Monday morning and hear about how your team did. I don’t need a player by player analysis for your specific team. Chances are, I don’t care about the majority, if any, of the players on your team. Having to sit and look at someone’s lineup is almost as bad as being forced to sit and watch a “hilarious” video on youtube someone wants to show you on their phone. Its an awkward moment, made even more awkward by the fact you’re sitting inches away from the person, forced to blankly stare at that little 5 inch phone in front of you, hearing their heavy-breathing, lip-smacking, spit swallowing, disgusting normal human sounds. The ones we all pretend we don’t make ourselves. All while trying not to accidentally allow the waft of their morning coffee-stenched breath to find its way up our nasal cavities.

Its like looking at coworkers baby pictures. I do not care. Absolutely no part of me wants to look at pictures and pretend to have a faint interest in the dribble on your baby or how it has your husband’s eyes. Your husband is non-existant to me, I don’t have to work with the man, you’re the one stuck living with him, I don’t need to pretend he’s at all someone I think about. And if I’m not in the pictures or they’re not of naked women, I don’t want to see them.

And just like if I’m not in the pictures, if I’m not in your league, I don’t want to see your team. Sure, we may have a few of the same players. Great. That doesn’t mean we share an immortal bond that can never be broken. It just means we both made the choice to draft/pick that guy up this season. I wasn’t watching on Sunday to see how your team did. I don’t have my eyes on potential pick-ups for you. In fact, having me look at your team as some way of searching for misguided gratification is probably an awful idea. I haven’t won in years. If anything, you’re better off hoping I hate your team.

If you want to talk about highlights from the actual games that week, that I will gladly do. Towards the end of the season, you want to talk real playoff scenarios and the chances of actual NFL teams, lets do it. What I don’t want is to talk about how your cousin is the last seed of the playoffs in your money league and starting Julio Jones that week and might advance to the next round to play your brother-in-law who has Todd Gurley and a bye week. I don’t know these people, not one ounce of my over-sized body gives a shit about them. I know you; I also probably don’t give a shit about you. That’s especially true if we work together. Outside of 9-5 Monday through Friday, I don’t think about you. Even during that time frame, I probably try to interact with you as little as possible. Why would you think I care about your extended family members or their fantasy teams?

Also, when the season starts, don’t give me a round by round breakdown of your draft and tell me your team is fire. Everyone’s team is usually pretty good after the draft. It’s fantasy football. You got Tom Brady in the 11th round? Cool man, I can’t believe you didn’t get a quality o-lineman. Oh wait, yes I fucking can, cause it’s fucking fantasy and every player taken is a skill player who will put up points. And QBs always fall late. Unless you’re an idiot Packers fan who takes Aaron first because you play with your heart. *sigh*. Point is, if you’re team doesn’t look good at the start of the season on paper, you were probably auto drafting and got like 3 solid kickers in a row and a guy on the IR.

If you win it all at the end, that’s brag worthy. Come in, tell me you won your eight man family league and whatever money and I’ll say that’s awesome, also- buy me lunch. Winning is fun, and hard, and its worth sharing. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with some bragging to people after you win the whole thing, as long as it’s kept to a minimum. Winning in week 5 though against your cousins ex-husband who you still talk to, but don’t tell your cousin about cause she’ll get mad, is not something I or anyone else needs to hear about. I have my own team to worry about how they’re going to lose this week. And don’t get me wrong, I love fantasy, I look forward to it every year and eye my lineup all week like a hawk even once I’m inevitably eliminated from playoff contention, there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just people need to realize some boundaries, and remember, you’re not that special, and neither is your team.

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