About a year ago, Chris and I were sitting on the couch discussing marital struggles some friends of ours were having. In the middle of this, Chris says, 'I want us to do something together...'
My curiosity is piqued. Is he actually going to suggest we do something meaningful together? Something to help build our relationship and draw us closer together spiritually?
'I want us to join a fantasy football league together next year.'
Okay. So much for deep and meaningful.
So some guy at his work formed a league this year, and Chris was anxious to be a part of it... although he seemed to have forgotten involving me. I wasn't going to let this bonding experience go, so I reminded him that he said we were going to do this together. He agreed.
Then Chris called one morning before the draft and said they were one team short. Did I want my own team. Sure, I said. Why not. The bonding experience has turned into a competition.
So I immediately got online, joined the league, and proceeded even to name my team: The Narnia Noggins. I hope C.S. Lewis doesn't roll over in his grave. (By the way, most of the guys didn't bother to name their teams, and the other most creative name is Smackumdownum.)
I got first draft pick, and minutes before the draft started, was debating between Tom Brady and LaDainian Tomlinson. I ended up going with LT. I hope it pays off. So as the draft ensued, I sat in front of the computer cradling and nursing my half-crying infant.
Among my other recruits: Wes Welker, Hines Ward, Adam Vinatieri, and, my most conflicted pick, Eli Manning. Although Manning showed some promise in the first half, he choked in the second. Oh, how I wanted Brady...
(This is Eli Manning. Arg.)
So the first game of the season was last night, and although I used to have strict convictions that I would only watch Nebraska and Titans football games, last night I found myself glued to the set watching a team I could have cared less about last year. Good grief.
