Choose Your Fantasies

I really do love the game; especially college football. But I sure do despise fantasy football.

Okay, don’t know about you but I can’t stand Fantasy Football. I really do love the game; especially college football. But I sure do despise fantasy football.

On Saturday mornings, I get to listen to a seasoned orthopedic surgeon/talk-radio host while I defensively maneuver around the San Gabriel valley on four wheels. And this guy is no ordinary surgeon. For three things, the Doc has a passion for surfing, sculpting in Italy (even using Michelangelo’s brand of marble), and the Lakers. Oh sure he’s the orthopedics chief over at Cedars and he provides care for elite athletes and the public like the artist he is. But every weekend on the Weekend Warrior Show he actually manages to explore the relationship of art, sports, and medicine. And in the process, he uses word pictures that can turn an Oreo sandwich into a vertebral column. The doc’s theme is “The eyes can’t see what the mind doesn’t know”. What’s exceptional is a surgeon using his imagination to help our eyes see. And I get to listen, visualize, and learn every Saturday straight outa spin class.

But thennnn we have Sunday. You get to hear three adults (one of them an “expert”) acting like 12-year olds who’ve never left their room, seen the sun, or been part of a team. Ugh. Welcome to three hours of Fantasy Football.

The radio content is really stimulating; stuff like “Brady or Wilson”? “Fournette or McCoy”? “Brown or Jones”? How about, induced hypnosis or unexplained coma? And it goes on for three freakin’ hours. It’s almost enough to make me look forward to the likes of Jimmy and the next Zyppah commercial. In case you didn’t know, Zyppah is an anti-snoring oral appliance sold directly to the public (why bother with a sleep study?) The Zyppah pitch is all about saving the user from the total embarrassment and rudeness of snoring (never mind the details of stuff like Obstructive Sleep Apnea and losing maybe eight years of life.)

When I hear Jimmy’s obnoxious, nasal Dead End Kid’s voice, I actually shut down the radio and count to one-hundredโ€ฆbutโ€ฆI still prefer Jimmy to Fantasy Football.

It’s probably just me but fantasy players remind me of wandering lost souls with no family, no sense of loyalty, and no cojones. Why not pick a team, stand by them, and maybe throw down 100-bucks for them to win it all? You’ll lay off the computer at all hours, read a book, and sleep like a baby with no reason to listen to Jimmy’s brand of BS.

Why not experience fantasies the way they were intended?

Von Bulow, OUT!