Can’t Even Enjoy My Own Fantasy

It’s that time of year.  Not only is it the weekend of Christmas, that rare time of year in which both my brother and I come home to Mom and Pop’s; but it also happens to be the very week featuring the two of us facing each other in our head to head fantasy football championship game.

I’ve got to admit, I don’t know if I can handle it.  My brother’s got Larry Johnson, I’ve got Ladainian Tomlinson, and the Chargers and Chiefs are squaring off.  Meanwhile, Dad is a Chiefs’ fan, and doesn’t seem to understand how I can root for L.T. but still be pulling for the family team.  

This is how much this fantasy football weekend is messing with my psyche.  Last night, I dreamt that I was playing receiver for the Arizona Cardinals, in a game taking place at my old Jr. High school.  After making an amazing diving touchdown catch, both Anquan Boldin and Larry Fitzgerald helped me up.  Suddenly I realized that if I was the one scoring the touchdown instead of these two guys, my fantasy team was missing out, and this greatly disappointed me.  

This is what fantasy sports do to us: I can’t even enjoy a pleasant dream of playing in the NFL!


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