I have many flaws. I think it’s healthy to admit that. It keeps you grounded and often fights off one of the biggest human afflictions: arrogance. I dislike those people who think they’re perfect. It’s just not possible. Admit there are things you struggle with; it’s not bad to have a weakness or two.
One of my biggest flaws and weaknesses is my inability to say no. I dislike letting people down nearly as much as I hate unwarranted arrogance. I’m asked to do things for other people and find it nearly impossible to decline. This leads to me being over-committed and stressed out, as I battle lack of sleep and homework at the same time. But this, is just the average college students life. It’d be unfair for me to claim my life is so much harder than anyone else’s.
Except that my failure to decline the requests of others has led me to end up participating in seven fantasy football leagues. Let that sink in… SEVEN. That’s more than six and comfortably more than five. That’s a lot. I’m an idiot. Don’t get me wrong: I love sports, so fantasy football has become a “must-play” thing for me. As a way of blending my unfortunate British-ness into American society, it’s as good as a chameleon’s camouflage.
The positive side of being in so many leagues is that it makes every game interesting for me. I find myself supporting individual players, rather than teams, which is something I’m not very accustomed to. Suddenly, I care how many yards Blake Bortles throws to his Jacksonville Jaguars receivers. It matters to me whether or not the Minnesota Vikings score on 4th and 1 at the goal line vs the Carolina Panthers. Having seven leagues does have one major drawback. I’ve owned pretty much every player in the NFL at least once. It makes things complicated in terms of cheering for my teams. I might want Aaron Rodgers to have a good game, but not a great game. I’m permanently confused.
However, when Marshawn Lynch getting injured in the first quarter ruins my weekend, it begins to be a negative influence on my life. When I hear that Devonta Freeman has 100+ yards and 3 touchdowns against the Dallas Cowboys and I proceed to jump around shrieking with happiness like a baboon, I suddenly think maybe the world isn’t so bad. But then when leaving 29 points from Rishard Matthews on my bench sends me into a depressive spiral that ends with an ice-cream eating binge session, I realize fantasy football might actually be dangerous for my health.
Basically, when a touchdown for the Cleveland Browns backup tight end or the Tennessee Titans defense getting a sack is directly affecting how happy I am come Sunday night, my life is a mess and I need to reassess my priorities. This isn’t even my sport! It shouldn’t even be called football! Argh. The fact that in just over two years here I’ve gone from a total novice to absolute obsessive, as far as fantasy football is concerned, shows my addictive personality. It’s one of the main reasons I don’t drink and will never take drugs. I’d be hooked. I guess being a fantasy football junkie is better than shooting up every weekend…
Fantasy football has ruined my life. I wait all weekend to relax and have fun and yet find myself more on edge on Sunday afternoons than I am at 9:30 a.m. on a Monday before a test. It’s painful. I’m trying really hard to care less. In fact, starting now, I don’t care. I don’t mind how my seven Diami Molphins (great name right?!) teams do this weekend. I’m no longer interested. Honest. And maybe now I’ll work on my flaws and start saying no to things.
Oh, and if the Philadelphia Eagles could do me a favor and THROW TO ZACH ERTZ THIS WEEK that’d be great. But I’m not that bothered… honest!
