Before the NFL season started this year I asked one of my sons if he planned to have a fantasy football team. He was not sure but he asked his older brother and before long we had a Family Football League, Davis Family, set up on Yahoo. I was pretty sure the boys wanted to do something to stay in touch with the old man, something we could do together.
So, my three sons, my son-in-law and one of my daughters-in-law each have a team in the league. Hilarity ensues. Tweets are tweeted, deals are made, the Commissioner hears appeals. My daughter in law is so cute, with her clip board of player names, her research into yards after first contact and QB ratings. She knows who is on IR, who is a good risk this week and can tell you when each team has its bye week.
And going into the weekend, I was 0-3. My team refuses to be coached up. None of my rousing half-time cyber speeches does anything for my virtual players.
So, I changed my whole roster of starters, benched some fantasy flops and sent some others into cyber limbo. We did Cyber Grassers day after day. I turned over the lunch table in the virtual team dining room. I typed all programming in capitals so the team could hear me scream.
And, then we took the field against my youngest son’s team, the East Dillon Lions. My team is named AARPDAD. And they have played like old guys.
But, this week, needing a victory, sinking into the slough of despond, my guys found their pride. Or, more likely, the East Dillon QB, one Anthony Romo, spent Monday evening running for his life and threw the ball to the wrong team. Five times. His inability to distinguish team colors made my victory possible.
For one week.
Opinions here are mine alone.