Ohhhhh, I’ve got something to say. It isn’t mom specific but since this is MY kewl blog, I don’t care. See, Matt spends most of the year on top (sexually and otherwise). He doesn’t engage in a lot of the mind-numbing, dumb shit that I do—social media, reality tv—you know, all my favorite things. He reads the paper and watches the news and knows shit and I am always like, “Oh my God, my man is the reallllll dealllll”. And then every year, sure as your born—Labor day arrives and I am reminded that he is actually an even bigger waste of space than me because ladies and gents, IT’S FANTASY FOOTBALL DRAFT NIGHT.
Let’s start with the name--Fantasy Football. Guys, GUYS! It’s a FANTASY. It’s fucking PRETEND. You might as well be playing ninja turtles upstairs in your bunk beds. “You be Donatello! I’ll be Michael Angelo. Oh, and you take Rafael, he loves pizza.” Same. It’s the same thing. It’s barbies and it’s kind-of Legos and it’s not even Cops and Robbers because in that imaginary game you are moving around. Tonight you are sitting down, drinking an extra hoppy IPA, yelling out the names of men who are hotter and richer and faster than you for your silly fake team from your sad couch.
And actually, I am okay giving up a night for this weird thing. Like—sure, I’ll do dinner and baths and bed while you be a make-believe NLF coach with your pals. But ya know what I’m not down for? The eight hours of MOCK DRAFTS before the draft. That’s right. Picking fake pretend teams several times to practice for picking your REAL imaginary team. Makes me watching Bachelor in Paradise and Teen Mom pretty mature and sophisticated if you ask me.
And I would really be doing this post a disservice if I did not mention what Matt looked like heading off to his big event. After a quick shower he threw on his best athleisure--including a fresh baseball hat and a brand-new pair of white kickz. He looked like a freshman in highschool trying to impress the hot senior chicks. Or maybe he has watched one too many episodes of Hard Knocks and was trying to dress the part. Wait, that’s it. Fuck. I think he thinks he is a real coach.
And today, Coach Matt has a full roster and now we can look forward to months of discussions about lineups, injuries, and trades. I feel like I should do something equally productive and respectable to even things out--like buy a Tamagotchi egg and start raising it. I don’t know. Point is, FALL’S HERE! And while I will #ROLLTIDE, I won’t cheer for a fake team named “The Savages” whose head coach can’t remember to put the cap back on the toothpaste. That is, unless they win and we end up with money and I can go shopping--in which case, #MOCKDRAFT2020 baby!