I was having a nice chinwag with the lads from the Sports Desk a few days ago. The talk very quickly turned to their Fantasy Football league, and there ensued quite a lot of somewhat mystifying insider palaver on injury reports, lineup changes, and the effect of Clinton Portis on the Washington Redskins' offense.
Playing the innocent ingenue (the pleasures of this pastime being completely lost on me), I asked them for a rundown on just how this Fantasy thing works. I received a five-minute lecture on drafts, player performance, the points system, and league standings.
"That's very interesting, I suppose," I mused. "But, uh, wouldn't you rather be having, you know, sex?"
I didn't mean with each other, but from the stunned silence that greeted my innocent question you'd have thought that's exactly what I had implied.
Blithely, I chattered on, "You know, given the choice between Clinton Portis' yards-per-carry average and a round of mindblowing boffage, I'm pretty sure I'd take the rogering every time. Women? Football? What's to choose?"
Oh dear. Might have hit a sore spot there.
Sorry, fellas. I hear there are chicks on eHarmony who just love guys who are way into sports...
9 comments:
Remember when you said that grownups aren't supposed to measure the passing of their lives by pop songs?
I thought of the guys into this Fantasy Football crud when you wrote that.
Older guys still into music will get the ladies.
Older guys who are obsessed with Fantasy Football? Not so much.
:)
Well, yes, exactly, BG! It comes down to what do you value?
And I treasure one square inch of Wonder Woman's inner thigh more highly than the entire National Football League, Major League Baseball, and the PGA Tournament. And I don't have to get her express written consent to rebroadcast any events, descriptions, or accounts of it.
Now which square inch -- that I'm going to keep private.
Wow -- now there's a word verif challenge:
fglymyg
Alas, for most involved, I doubt it is an Either/Or proposition. I'm surprised none of them started crying.
And I treasure one square inch of Wonder Woman's inner thigh more highly than...
Your so goopy about Wonder Woman, Jeddie.
I'm sure Wonder Woman would agree with me on this...
When she and I get together for our little Sweet Baby James lovefest, we are going to blare Shower the People or maybe a little Handy Man in your honor.
:)
Or maybe a little Country Road? Or would you rather hear a little Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight?
:)
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"You know, given the choice between Clinton Portis' yards-per-carry average and a round of mindblowing boffage, I'm pretty sure I'd take the rogering every time.
Come on, Neddie -- whaddya think halftime is for?
What I don't get about fantasy football is the fact that apparently real, actual football is not good enough to satisfy today's football fan. They need more so they make it up.
Maybe they can have it both ways, like Star Trek and Buffy the Vampire Slayer fans do, by writing erotic fiction based on football players and cheerleaders.
You're probably spot-on with the eHarmony comment. I think I read somewhere that the site caters to "traditional Christian values" -- obsequious women barefoot & pregnant in the kitchen, their beer-bellied partners on the Barcalounger downing hot wings & bleu cheese.
I can't believe it. Sex, better than pretend football? Amazing. Chivalry isn't dead. I feel proud to be a woman.
Ooh -- plus, I get the added benefit of getting hot thinking about Wonder Woman, which would be better if I could get the image of Neddie dry-humping Wonder Woman's leg out of my mind. Mmmm, Wonder Woman.
A square inch? Is that all you’re working with? ;))
Really, though. When you think of all the things in the world that you would give up for sex, there isn’t much left. You would have to have sex almost constantly just to make up for the loss of all the things you didn’t choose. Which, incidentally, doesn't sound so bad.
Luckily, we can have whatever the hell we want, which is why watching the game with chicken wings, good beer, and a blow job is much better than watching a game with chicken wings. Perhaps that’s why real football isn't bad, but the fantasy is so dreadfully dreary -- you can’t share it, and it’s too complicated to participate in other activities while you focus on it.
Ah, Jingo. I’m truly glad that people such as you exist in this world.
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