I know it’s been over a week, but I have had the flu. The honest-to-God flu, people. It’s as bad as it sounds. I’ve had horrid flashbacks to the food poisoning from hell along with an ultimate battle of remaining-coherent-while-a-sledge-hammer-has-decided-to-play-“Test-Your-Strength”-with-my-head unfolding not far behind . Just as it sounds… I also figured after devoting an entire month to my love life, you guys could use a little break.

What I want to talk about today is a new love in my life. I love Fantasy Football, and I want to shout it from the rooftops or jump on a couch with Oprah – that’s how in love with FF I am.

I was surprised, too.

Where has it been all my life? Better yet, where have I been to have only joined a league this year?

There’s definitely been a little bit of a learning curve because I’ve never played before, but it’s become an obsession for me. Clifford would watch The League on FX — I feel like I might be becoming those people.  It’s also been fabulous because Clifford is playing with me. My husband, who I remind you is not from North America and has never been interested in football or particularly any other sports since moving to the States, has finally invested in one. And that sport is football. This. Is. Huge.  It has sincerely taken our relationship to the next level. Watching him shout things at the TV about offside and holding makes my heart grow three sizes too big.

Yep.

And I’ve gone from interested to completely engrossed. I’m suddenly more involved in NFL stats and player performance and injuries than I’ve ever been before. I’ve always been a college football kind of girl and now I find myself living for Sundays instead of Saturdays (though I’ll still catch any college game to watch Notre Dame lose or Michigan win).

Fantasy Football is like the ultimate school yard pick-up game of kickball. There are captains and there are players. In Fantasy Football, you’re guaranteed to be a captain and you get to pick your team.  Your choices have consequences, but you get to watch those consequences be played out on your hi-def TV instead of on a dirt field behind an old smelly gym.

I’m not leading my league by any stretch of the imagination. It’s my rookie year; cut me some slack. But the highs and lows of winning and losing week to week have brought back my competitive drive with a vengeance. Though it’s a much more mature competitive drive than what I had during school yard kickball. It’s healthier… Instead of pounding the nearest teeter-totters like a two year old after a heartfelt loss, I just pound a bottle of wine like my liver could care less (we’ve struck an accord).

Fantasy Football is my happy place. Living the dream …