The terribly amazing addiction that is fantasy football

If you know me, you know that I am a diehard sports fan. Sometimes, too diehard. Nothing in life get me more excited than sports do. However, there is one thing that gets my heart pumping like nothing else in sports can.

Fantasy football.

People who don’t play fantasy football would probably laugh in my face if I said that. Really, dude? Fantasy football?

Yes. Fantasy football.

Being that it’s late-July, fantasy football draft preparations are in full swing and hopes are as high as ever. Year after year, it’s at this exact time where every fantasy football player is thinking the same thought - “this is my year.”

I have to admit, I’m as guilty of this as anyone is. I was thinking “this is my year” all last preseason after I grabbed Dez Bryant and Jordy Nelson in the first two rounds for both of my competitive leagues. But with my luck, Jordy Nelson tore his ACL in August and Dez Bryant got injured week one and had to sit out 10+ weeks.

However, no matter what happens the year before, I come back to this game like the girl who goes back to her boyfriend who cheats on her every other weekend. No matter how loyal I’ve been to this game, it’s rarely been loyal to me. But like the girl, I’ll never leave and I’ll never give up on it.

Can’t believe that was the analogy I came up with.

In all seriousness, fantasy is this deadly combination of luck and skill that eats you alive. Once you think you’ve got it down to a science, bad luck will come your way. If you rely too much on luck, though, then those with the adequate preparation and skill will out-strategize you. The thing is, it’s virtually impossible to achieve the perfect balance of the two.

To raise the stakes even higher, the main competition of fantasy is your friends. While it may seem like it’s all fun and games from the outside, I can assure you that it’s not, especially being as competitive as myself and my friends are. I’ll be the first to tell you that nothing is worse than losing in fantasy leagues with your friends.

Like anything else, the only goal of the game is to win. However, in this game, it’s almost impossible to have any sort of advantage. You can’t use size, speed, or any other physical component - you can only use your head. Even then, you can listen to Matthew Berry and company all you want, but in the end, all of your team’s decisions are made by one person – you.

With so many factors playing into the game, it proves to be the ULTIMATE love/hate relationship (that pun was intended, Matthew Berry). When you’re winning, it’s the best thing in the world. When you’re losing, it’s the worst. There really is no in-between.

There is no break in the loving and hating, either. Fantasy football, unlike the usual sporting event, drives you nuts 24/7.

There have been times that I have been on my feet, screaming at my T.V. on the verge of some sort of cardiac arrest during a meaningless Monday Night Football game when the home team is up by 28 late in the fourth quarter.

There have been times that I’ll be sitting in class on a sport-less Wednesday afternoon and all I will be able to think about is whether I should start Jordan Matthews or Melvin Gordon in my flex slot (sorry for zoning out, Professor).

There have been times that Chris Ivory ran for 75 yards on Monday Night Football when I needed him to run for 76 yards, sending me into a physical and emotional depression for an entire week.

There have been times that I set an alarm at 6AM to see if I got my target guy on waivers (craziest part is, I KNOW I’m not the only one that has done it).

Those are all true stories, and it’s a fact that no other sporting event or game can have that effect. It’s a sickness that only fantasy football can cause.

To put it simply, fantasy football is a terribly amazing addiction. It can be your best of friends one day, and your worst of enemies the next.

In the end, though, I can’t picture what my life was like before fantasy. And no matter what cruelty fantasy dishes out at me, I know that I will be back next year, refueled with hope.

Feeding into the addiction yet again.