Thursday, November 03, 2005

Not My Fantasy

I got a call Sunday night from a friend in Seattle. I asked him how his newborn (2nd child) was doing, particularly his wife. I got some details, but when pressed for more was reminded that he couldn't focus on anything other than the task at hand: draft night.

For those of you blessed enough not to know about it, fantasy basketball (and football, baseball, probably hockey, soccer and diving) is what all the men are doing (or thinking about) these days (it hasn't trumped sex... yet). Matt had called for Ed's conference call with the other fantasy basketball mangers? coaches? for this year's draft. Ed had printed out his list of names, was studying them at the coffee table (despite the last few days panic about *all* the work he had to), distinctly agitated that the draft was starting an hour earlier than established.

Fantasy sports irriate me. I'm not sure why. I know some of my irritation comes from a guarantee of more sporting television hours. I used to enjoy college football season because it meant I'd get a break from the predominance of sport on television when the season was over- and Ed doesn't watch that much, really. Fantasy basketball annoys me in a special way. First of all, the basketball season is at least as long as a school year (I swear), so from now until NEXT JUNE, Ed will be checking out BB highlights (he never used to be so diligent- something I miss). And not just ONE team - rather a bevy of teams for which ALL of his fantasy team plays on. My own special torture. Last year, up half the night with Jack, exhausted from being new parents, Ed would STILL find time to check his team - I think he even woke up a few minutes early to see how "his" guys were doing. What the hell?

I've talked with other women about this (and just so you know, I don't know any women who play fantasy sports with the vim and vigor that our male counterparts invest- or any women who play for that matter) and we don't have an equivalent to fantasy sports playing. I think this is why I get so annoyned. You know, we don't have a daily "thing" that we're equally invested in(other than a freaking phenomenal wife/mother/woman/domestic balancing act), thoughtful about, and, frankly, something that can make or break a good or bad mood. I know the $ aspect helps, but for 7+ months of checking scores, trading players, reading/researching new players- I don't think it's the $100 prize (or whatever it is) that's inspiring these guys. I think I'm jealous. I want to be so intrinsically inspired and devoted.

Anyway, tonight, Ed was flipping through the channels as I was setting out some pages to edit. Bothered by the color and chatting jolting, I asked for the remote and finished watching an episode of Law & Order - just to maintain some order while I got organized myself. When the show was over, I stood up, engaged in a discussion about the death penalty with Ed (spurred by the show)- how I am definately against it because if there ever was a CHANCE that a mistake could be made, we should take it off the table since death is (duh) irreversible. He asked how I felt about abortion (we both assume that life is life from the get-go-micro cell). Still unsure about that, but my argument leaning towards having it allowed - which, yes seems hypocritical - but, hey - the government needs to stay out of our bodies- to either NOT allow someone to be killed or ALLOW someone to be killed.

Near the end of our light early evening chat, I noticed that Charles Barkely was talking from a podium desk- the kind sports analyses spews from. WHAT? You're already watching BB highlights? I went off for about 30 seconds before Ed gently (read: smugly) reminded me that I had taken the remote and that this was the show that came on after L&O - that, in fact, I had in a sense, allowed this show to be watched.

I promptly walked away to vent on our blog.


1 comment:

  1. Anonymous9:15 PM

    Our family drives our daily 'thing' and women invest themselves in reality. Maybe we think of fantasy sport as a waist of all of the above...