by Will Bailey
I have a fantasy. Don’t worry, it’s nothing inappropriate. Unless you consider a bunch of grown men running around in spandex trying to hug each other “inappropriate.” Isn’t it funny how different things sound when you read them back to yourself, out loud? Especially to all the people within earshot? What I was trying to say is that I have a fantasy football team. You know: an imaginary line-up of professional football players that generates points based on touchdowns, extra points and other stats that make Wife’s eyes glaze over whenever I mutter them nervously while rubbing my lucky rabbit foot every Sunday and Monday from early September to December. Of course, sometimes I get so involved in this silly little hobby that I mistake Cat’s foot for my rabbit foot and I wind up in a body cast. Which is actually more convenient than it sounds, because it gives me an excuse to be perfectly immobile and focus all my attention on the game of the hour. See, I’ve discovered that if I yell loud enough, I can actually will my fantasy players to perform at a higher level, thereby ensuring sweet victory when it comes playoff time. Of course, I have never won in the playoffs, so perhaps I need to rethink my strategy, or lack thereof. Maybe I need to take my fantasy game to the next level: paying off my players. That’s right, I am so dedicated to fantasy football that I am willing to pay my players real money, on the side, to get me maximum fantasy points. I wonder if they’ll accept personal checks. Fifty bucks should do the trick, right?