Monday, October 11, 2010

He doesn't play fantasy football

by: J E Cammon


Recently, fantasy football has sapped my interest in the real sport it strives to imitate (or "for real" as Mr. Lewis asserts). I masquerade on my breaks from work as the manager for a team I've named, and lament over the small, terrible things that cause me to lose by a point, or even a tenth of a point. The delay of the Monday-night contest between the Jets and Vikings by lightning seemed like the nail in the coffin. I was going to catch up on other TV shows that I normally miss because typically I'm watching football. 


As it turns out, the storm was not an omen, but perhaps more like the almighty Himself was looking for a place to park His cloud. Because He had showed up to watch yet another Brett Favre show-stopper. And I openly admit that I'm completely glad that I never changed the channel. 


Okay, perhaps I'm being overly dramatic, given the horrible fist half, some of the footage slashed with droplets of rain so thick that it obscured visibility. But the second half, especially the fourth quarter, turned out to be why people (and by people I mean me) watch football. Because man exists, if for no other reason, than to ask questions. But a rare kind, many of them sportsmen, exist to answer them. And there was nothing so gripping than to watch Minnesota's miracle-worker (though I prefer Old Silver Fox) do his best to fend off quicker, hulking defenders, and then be crushed feebly to the ground. And then rise. There was nothing so amazing than to watch him rocket tight spirals from his back leg, off balance, falling down and then work his throwing elbow as if even he was afraid that its time was up. And then do it again. 


I can't predict the future. And actually even the immediate past is foggy, too, but I feel confident that when it came time for most viewers to turn the game off and go to bed, that they, like me, ignored the responsible impulse and kept right on watching. The storm even eased up considerably as if some spectator up above was moving clouds out of the way to get a better view. And on 3rd and 5, about three seconds after things had become desperate, one of the gunslinger's bullets hung in the air for about a whole minute, waiting for Fate's coin to stop spinning through the air and finally lay flat. It might've been a completion, which would lead to a first down, and others then finally a game-winning field goal. It might've been another Favre-live interception that ended with him holding his face mask to keep from reaching out and demanding he have the throw back. 


But I'm sure you know who it all went down. You were watching, just like me. Right now, I'm not afraid to say that the real, great fantasy would be more football like that.



J E Cammon is a writer working and living in the Atlanta area. Some of his writings can be found at www.jecammon.com. He isn't the fan of any particular team. He's a fan of sport, and the sportsmen and women who practice the pursuit of perfection.

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