Oracle Online

I know, I know. I shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn’t have joined the league with my buddies. My obsessive sports fandom isn’t endearing to most people, and this might push me over the edge. But what’s done is done, and this column is about why I’m already satisfied.

Normally, I wouldn’t tune in to a Week 2 Packers-Bears game. Although they are divisional opponents of the Vikings, the Bears aren’t exciting in the least and the Packers are a has-been team. Watching Brett Favre in his twilight years is just sad. With no options on offense, the Packers get behind early and Favre starts trying to force things on offense--chucking balls deep into the secondary and often missing by miles. The possession will end quickly, and Favre will retreat to the sidelines, his graying head smoldering with anger. Favre is truly the NFL’s equivalent of “MJ with the Wiz,” except the Wizards were almost a playoff team and Jordan was still an exceptional player. The Packers are going to be lucky to go 5-11. Sad. But I drafted the Bears’ defense for my fantasy team, so this particular 26-0 drubbing of the Packers is excellent for me. Suddenly, uneventful and even painful games become must-see television. I love this game!

As hard as it is to justify sports-addiction, fantasy football comes awfully close to making a case. Now I have to watch all these games on Sunday ą my fantasy guys are playing! It’s not like I’m gambling on these games; the male ego is wager enough. We draft these teams and follow them rabidly over a fourteen-game season for pride. For the love of the game. You know, like in Little Giants and Remember The Titans and especially The Waterboy.

Fantasy football also gives me the invaluable opportunity to root for players not wearing purple. Believe me, I needed this. A franchise that famously choked away four Super Bowls in the '60s and '70s hasn’t been too kind to my generation of fans, either. The Vikings have just let me down too many times. In 1998, when a seemingly-invincible Vikings squad lead by Cris Carter, Randy Moss, Randall Cunningham and Robert Smith lost a heart-breaker to the Falcons in overtime. In 2000, an embarrassing 41-0 loss to the Giants in the NFC Championship. A year later came the death of Korey Stringer. This was followed by the Mike Tice years and the trades of Daunte Culpepper and Randy Moss. The fantasy football gods have restored my hope. Now I can root for Randy on the Raiders (unless my team is playing his, of course) while he goes out every week making highlight-reel plays despite playing with a minor-league level offense. Every week, I root for Larry Fitzgerald, a Minnesota boy who plays wide receiver on an exciting Cardinals run-'n-fun offense. Thank you, fantasy football.

Furthermore, there are few things better than receiving a phone call from a buddy who begins to loudly chant the “Monday Night Football” theme song. Instant excitement. Nothing beats running from convenience store-to-car-to-liquor store to gear up for such a night. As a group of friends crowd into a living room somewhere in St. Paul, the feeling of anticipation weighs on us all. Within a few minutes, insults will begin flying as we criticize each other’s fantasy football picks, hometown teams and mothers. And what a beautiful thing it is.

Indeed, as you read this, I will probably be recovering from such a Monday night. Because this column goes to print on a Thursday, I’ll give you my thoughts on what I think happened last night, if you follow my tense-confusion. (Somewhere, an English professor weeps.) I’ve always had an affinity for Mike Vick’s HOTlanta Falcons, and they will likely continue to roll against weak opponents. Falcons by six in a low-scoring game. Sorry, Reggie Bush and N’awleans fans. But, as always, feel free to heckle/congratulate me in person depending on how this prediction goes.