As a veteran fantasy football player (I’ve got three seasons under my belt, plus the handful I red-shirted watching Thad play before I started) I have come to the conclusion that much like people’s cars indicate certain personality types, fantasy team names are just as indicative of their owners’ dispositions.
My long-standing (okay, again, just three seasons) team name is Playing in Stilettos, a nod not only to my love of all shoes tall and strappy, but a reminder that sports teams really should put more emphasis on their “look” as they take the field each week. Sadly, Stilettos is not far from bringing up the rear of the pack, but at least I’m doing it in style!
I’m currently getting clobbered by both the Fluffy Bunnies, a team you would think would be cute and cuddly, and yet provides a good dose of smack-talk each week, as well as Apocalyptic Ducklings, whose webbed feet apparently provide no hindrance in racking up numerous points each weekend. As a huge lover of all fluffy and fuzzy critters, the fact that each of these teams is currently demolishing me in the rankings is nearly unacceptable. I want to like bunnies and ducklings and all their other Easter-time buddies, but currently the consideration runs more towards smothering them with some fake plastic grass.
Schrodinger’s Cat and I have been neck and neck all season long. Some weeks SC make a move up in the rankings and others I slide into a higher spot. I suppose just a few more weeks will reveal whether the contents of that box are alive and well for the playoffs or if a dead cat is done for the year and just needs to be put in the ground for its final rest.
Not to be forgotten in the long list of teams currently outshining Playing in Stilettos are Semper Flatulous, led by an army reservist and the league’s current leader, Victorious Secret, whose name I find all the more disturbing, as it is my younger brother’s team. Between references to farts and skimpy lingerie models, our league still leans heavily towards those with the XY chromosomal makeup.
Rockem Sockem Robots were toys that had their heyday in the 1960’s, and nevertheless they have enough staying power to be yet another team outranking me in the world of fake football. How a cheap plastic toy in which a red robot and a blue robot do battle in a tiny boxing ring can outdo the splendor of fabulous footwear is beyond me, but it is happening, week after week.
Our league may be twelve players strong, but strong does not describe the starting lineups for those of us taking up the last few spots on the weekly status update. I may as well take my spot on the bench with playoffs just around the corner. Really though, twelve weeks of playing in fabulous high heels is enough to give anyone bunions the size of Jupiter, so warming the bench and cheering on those with actual talent on their rosters may be the way to go. (This assessment sounds eerily similar to the one I made in junior high school, that one summer I decided that signing up to play softball, when I had never before touched a bat, was a good idea. It didn’t take too long for me to realize I was out of my league, playing with a cohesive team that had been together since their days of tee-ball. I dutifully arrived to games each week in my spotless, stain-free team uniform, accessorized with matching socks and hair scrunchie, ready to put in an inning or two of work deep in right field and ride out the rest of the night on the pine. Whether it is a real sport on the fantasy version of one, apparently my talents reside on the cheering on rather than the participating side!)
From adorably named animal teams that are more furious on the field than their higher on the food chain ranking cousins to rinky-dink toys from the ‘60’s, our league is filled with family and friends who do cyber-battle each week, vying for the prize-less title of Fantasy Football Champion. This may not have been the year for Playing in Stilettos but you can bet I’ll be back next year, sporting nothing less than the latest and greatest of the 2012 runway season!