Fantasy Football

All is right again with the world. College football season has returned, and in the Alderman house we couldn’t be happier. College football here is not simply watched, but practiced as a religion. We can beach ourselves happily on the couch for endless hours on Saturday afternoons and watch any team at any level, just as long as they’re playing football. The University of Alaska at Juno vs. St. Mary’s Technical College – sure, we’ll watch that.

Of course, the preference is to watch the University of Tennessee (my team) or the University of Louisville (Rob’s team). Although we have a shared love of college football, the ways we love the sport are very different. I inherited my fanaticism from my father, which means I have a love/hate relationship with the Volunteers. I have been known to embarrass sailors with my vocabulary choices during a game, and win or lose I will comment vehemently that the coach should be run out of town for his pitiful game plan. Rob, on the other hand, is generally under the mistaken impression that he actually plays football for the Cards, and as a result has to have his rattled nerves calmed before kickoff. While I simply scream obscenities at the television in an effort to motivate the team to play better, Rob will utilize reverse psychology to promote smarter play. “Well”, he’ll say to nobody in particular when his team is only up by three touchdowns, “there’s no way they can win now. They are definitely going to lose. Yep, they’ve lost this one. Oh well, maybe next week.” Neither of us seems to understand that the team is most likely not telepathic and most likely not receiving any of the messages we are sending them from our living room. This is a pity, considering we are both strategic geniuses with masterful understandings of both offensive and defensive coordination. This is our version of fantasy football. We should be on their payrolls, really.

So football season is back. And after watching the tragedies of hurricane Katrina unfold last week, not a minute too soon. That kind of widespread devastation puts everything into perspective and reminds me that football is just a game. It’s just a game played by a bunch of kids, some of whom now have their parents living with them on campus because their family homes were destroyed. But just as we were starting to feel overwhelmed with helplessness, here came this silly game to provide a much needed escape. Not to mention an opportunity to practice yelling new and colorful insults at Tennessee’s coach and resuscitating my husband when Louisville turned the ball over on Kentucky’s 20 yard line. We just can’t wait till next weekend.