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...