It happened again on Saturday.
It was about half past nine, and I was wrapped in an imitation Snuggie that gives you a bit of insight into how I spend my weekends. An exhausting marathon of football continued with kickoff between West Brom and Chelsea, and I reached for the remote, wondering whether I should pull the sheets over my eyes and call the whole thing off. But just as the effects of the third coffee wore off and I faded into a dreamscape sure to narrated by the dulcet tones of Ray Hudson, I was jolted awake by a sobering call. Shane Long had just put West Brom in front at Stamford Bridge, and just as quickly, I turned my back on years of single-minded fandom, and did the unthinkable: I began to root for Chelsea.
I’d love to blame my lapse in judgement on some early morning phrenic haze, that my eyelids were non-compliant, and that I was unstable after realizing that my supply of Honey Oats had run its course, but as I began to hope for a Chelsea equalizer, and later, a Chelsea winner, the distressing truth is that I was fully cognizant of my actions.
You see, my name is Maxi Rodriguez, and I’m obsessed with fantasy Premier League.
I used to watch games like a regular fan. Cheering was strictly restricted for players on the team I support. Weekend fixtures were only noticeable for how they affected the overall table. Statistics were…”unreliable” ways to gauge my side’s quality. And Chelsea losses? I took an unhealthy joy in the misery of opposition fans.
Now, I develop a migraine each Friday night.
When I first joined Fantasy Premier League, my questions were reasonable. Nani or Young? Ashley Cole or Leighton Baines? Arsenal? How about upcoming fixtures? I wonder if that Taarbt kid is worth a gamble…? These days, it’s all gotten a bit ridiculous.
My Google search history now includes such regretful queries as “everton historical results Goodison August.” I’ve lurked on Wigan message boards1 to gauge expectations for Victor Moses. 15 minutes of clips on Youtube made me confident in John Ruddy. Do you know who takes set pieces for Swansea and Norwich City? No? Well, I do. I also know the starting back line for almost every team in the league, and at this stage, could probably tell you what cologne Nicolas Bendtner wears on the weekends. It’s Sport by Armani. Dive into the night…
The obsession has grown to such an extend that I hope and believe in the irrational scenarios I develop while watching a match. “David Silva can score three, and some substitute defender for Norwich can manage four. I’ll have gotten maybe 20 points, and City will have lost. Everyone will be happy, right?”
Some might say that I’ve taken it too far, that my obsession is unhealthy and detracts from the purity of the game. And those people would be absolutely correct.
Nevertheless, I’m certain that I’ve never been a better football fan2. Even the most insignificant match interests me. If Stoke manage a run of clean sheets, or Ritchie de Laet notches in a few goals, I could take a few strides ahead of the other teams in my league. I’m invested in the glamorous teams as well. If Nani plays like he should, I might keep up with my roommates.
The grizzled veterans who have spent long nights struggling between Matthew Etherington at home or Nani away will understand the point I’m trying to make3), but those few yet-to-be inducted might not. So here it is, in the simplest terms possible: I’d willingly give up a bit of purity for entertainment’s sake.
You newcomers might scoff at the thought, but if you give it a chance, be sure to keep your Friday nights open, and don’t be surprised if Jose Bosingwa becomes one of your favorite players.
Oh, and a beginner’s tip: don’t use your Wildcard in Week 3. I learned that the hard way.
- Who knew these things existed?! [↩]
- consumer [↩]
- God pity the real-life manager who stressed over that decision [↩]
One Comment
You’ll never keep it up. You’ll never stick with it.
I am speaking from long experience.
I took part in the very first fantasy football in the Daily Telegraph.
Was like you above and relentlessly watching, checking form, adjusting things to get maximum points. But after only a few months fatigue set in and by Chrimbo I’d given up.
Now I run a prediction league where all you have to do is guess the final scores. As somebody described it – it’s fantasy football for the lazy.
I’m not here to promote the prediction league, please don’t get me wrong. I’m just saying that a few years (maybe months ?) down the line you’ll be the same; “Ah fcuk it…”