Rotoholics.com

I Pledge Allegiance to… ?

Apologies for the delay in getting a new article cranked out. A soul-crushing losing streak, a side trip to Vegas and my pesky real job got in the way. But I’m all rested up from the Thanksgiving break and ready to pick up where I left off.

Speaking of which, I had the pleasure to spend Thanksgiving at our friend’s (and fellow Rotoholics co-creator’s) house. All in all, the day went well – did a video conference with the east coast relatives (during which the kids made faces at each other, and the adults said “what did they just say?” over and over), ate my fair share of bird, watched my wife pass out from drinking too much and watched football… y’know, the usual.

As day turned to night, my once mighty New York Football Giants were busy filming an instructional “How To Get Your Ass Kicked In Prime Time” video. The G-Men imploded like a dying star, losing 26-6 to the free-falling Broncos. It was ugly. I’m talking CKT (Current Kathleen Turner) ugly.

The strangest part of it all? I didn’t care.

The Pendulum Swings…

For so many years, I’ve emotionally lived and died with every Giants’ W and L. An entire Sunday – hell, an entire week – could be ruined by a Giants loss. I’ve screamed at the television like a lunatic when they ran draw plays on 3^rd down, or when Eli threw off his back foot and into the welcoming arms of the opposition, or when the linebackers gave up yet another 100+ receiving day to some below average tight end, or when Brandon Jacobs failed to convert the 3rd-and-1 for the sixth time in the same game.

On the flip side, I’ve also reveled in their victories. I remember where I was during the ‘86 and ‘90 Super Bowls. Of course, 2007 may have been sweetest of all – partly because they beat the maybe-we-shouldn’t-have-had-those-19-and-0-t-shirts-out-in-the-open-like-that Patriots, and partly because the year prior was one of the worst I’d ever experienced personally. So little had gone right for me, and so few moments could be described as anything resembling positive. So to shake 2007 loose while at the same time feeling the jubilation of my favorite team winning a championship… well, it made my heart grow 3 sizes that day.

But the problem now is that I have TWO favorite teams: The Giants and Show Me Your TDs, my fantasy team. My fragile little mind cannot possibly bear the brunt of an emotional tug of war between the two. So I’ve had to detach myself from the Giants somewhat of late. It hasn’t been that hard, given the way they’re playing this year.

Don’t get me wrong – I still watch. I still root. I still yell at the TV when Eli does something stupid. But when the game is over, I can move on. My week isn’t ruined. I still have an appetite. If my fantasy team loses, on the other hand, I curl up in the fetal position and mutter to myself for hours like that chick at the end of “Paranormal Activity” (a situation that, unfortunately, has been all too familiar with me this season).

It’s Just a Fantasy…

Ok, so why choose fantasy over reality? Well, a few reasons:

• The Draft: The NFL Draft lasts something like 11 days. Over 10,000 college kids are selected. There’s 45 minutes between picks. It’s impossible to follow. On the other hand, the fantasy football draft is sacred (and may be the best day of the year). There’s all sorts of food and alcohol to gorge on before, during and after. Guys are huddled around laptops and stacks of paper as if they’re debriefing the president on North Korean missile development. Pot Chimney smoke fills the air like a London fog that just rolled in. There’s banter and putdowns. There’s a luxurious pool to retire to after it’s all over. [Well, that’s how my draft goes… if you’re not getting that experience, you’re not doing fantasy football right, my friends.]
• Those are my guys: As Jerry Seinfeld once noted, the way pro athletes change teams at will, there’s no sense of constancy or loyalty. “Basically, we’re just rooting for laundry” he said. How true. God knows I never asked for Eli Manning. Brandon Jacobs would not be welcome in my home. But the guys on my fantasy team? Those are the ones I chose (for better or for worse). I feel far more connected to them.
• “You’re benched, suckwad:” On a similar note, I get to control who plays and who sits. If my RB blows, I can bench him or dump his ass or try to trade him to Ryan. I can be all Holmgren-esque and get the mad power of coach and GM I crave.
• The Payoff – When the Giants win the Super Bowl, it’s a pretty cool feeling. I invested this time and effort to watch them and root for them during the course of the season, and there’s a certain satisfaction in knowing I wasn’t just rooting for some team that wasn’t good enough. But how often does your team actually win? And when they do, I don’t actually get anything. I mean, John Mara doesn’t write me a letter thanking me for my mental blood, sweat and tears. Plaxico Burress doesn’t send me a license plate he made for defending him in public. My fantasy team, on the other hand… well, if I win my league, I get a fairly similar sense of jubilation in addition to (a) the ability to hold it over my friends’ heads for an entire offseason; and (b) benjamins, baby. A fistful of ‘em.

Case closed.

The Giants are 6-5. Show Me Your TDs is 5-7. Remarkably, as bad as both have been, they still have a shot at the playoffs if they win out. Another loss for either and it’s bye-bye postseason. I can’t possibly deal with that sort of disappointment on both fronts. So I have to choose.

Sorry, Jints. It’s been a nice ride.