Pillow Talk

Those who can't do, teach. And those who can't play competitively, fantasize.

I have been playing on-line fantasy sports for about eight years. Starting with our pledge-class league of "Small World Fantasy Basketball", which cleverly included a stock-market like system of player values back when the Internets was new around 1999. Since then it has become a great way of following a given sport (most consistently the NBA), keeping in touch with friends, and providing an outlet for a nasty competitive streak.

Not satisfied with one league, I came up with what I thought was a brilliant idea. My girlfriend and I share a love of basketball, both inherited from our families. The families hadn't met yet, but given the impending conjoining of living space, the time was well nigh. Why not create a family Fantasy Basketball league? The benefits seemed innumerable. A draft would be a great, informal way for people to meet. People could stay in touch and interact. And hopefully my girlfriend would understand when I spend hours going comparing the stats of Chucky Atkins with John Salmons and might sympathize when a shooting guard for the Hornets that no one in their right mind has heard of goes down with a torn ligament.

I had no idea whether people would play past the first week, understand the esoteric scoring system, suggest trades, adjust their lineups, and in general get in the spirit.

Which brings me to last night. I have been recovering from surgery, my girlfriend has been a wonderful nurse, which has left both of us exhausted. At roughly 2am in the morning, I am repositioning my tired bones in the bed and she grabs my arm:

"Baby, I've been thinking"

"What's wrong" I reply.

"I think I should just trade you Vince Carter for a nobody and try to take down my mom. It's our only shot. Since Dwyane Wade went down, my team is sunk."

"Really baby? That makes sense, I was kind of thinking the same...."

This is when I realized we are talking about Fantasy Basketball in bed. And she brought it up. This tears down so many assumptions of what I think is going on in her head at any given time. I assume that it is mostly new living room arrangments, but now, all bets are off. Speaking of bets, do I even dare mention on-line sports-books?

I ask if we can talk about it in the morning and she relents.

Thus ends the opening volley in my argument as Fantasy Sports being the most addictive scourge in our modern times.