Draft Day

Peter had to work last night, he worked through the night and slept for a while on the couch. We had plans for the afternoon, so around 9:30 I had to start waking him up…gently….very gently. Poor Pete. He didn’t want to wake up, and I know he didn’t want to miss out on our plans. I leaned down and whispered the three words that tell about the strength of our relationship, that are a cornerstone of our very marriage, three words that tell him how much I love him….

“Fantasy Football Draft”

I could have said “House on fire” or “Rabid beavers approaching”, but nothing gets him stirring quite like the fantasy football draft. He spends time reading, researching, preparing and organizing for this day….it pretty much starts 10 minutes after the Superbowl. Honestly, if he attacked everything with as much intensity, Bill Gate would be scared for his job and we’d be packing to move into the White House. This is one of Pete’s greatest joys.

Fantasy Football involves drafting a team of players from different NFL teams onto “your team”, and based on how they perform each week you get points. If your team has more points than your opponent’s collection of players, then you win…there’s playoffs, a Fantasy Football Superbowl and a trophy…you get your name on it…this is the BIG time. It’s a borderline cult….like Scientology or Amway…only it’s fun and usually involves beer!

I was never a big football fan. I grew up in Indiana where from the time you are old enough to sit up you are trained that Basketball isn’t just a sport, it is THE sport. If you saw the movie Hoosiers….that is really how it is. I wasn’t a good basketball player, I wasn’t even a good basketball watcher. I wasn’t a big sports player at all, I was an intellectual….none of that nasty sweating stuff….(note to my sister, you can stop laughing now!).

For a long time after Peter and I became a couple, I referred to myself as a football widow. Which basically meant that from September to January, I saw Peter only on the times when there wasn’t a game playing, a post or pre-game analysis being shown, if there wasn’t any highlights being shown, an injury update, or (GASP!) ESPN dared to show footage of another sport. Petey likes his football.

So, it became a “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em” strategy. I became involved in his favorite pastime, I joined his fantasy football league, I started watching the games, I actually started LIKING it! He is slowly turning me into a guy…any day now I will start scratching myself in public places and growing hair on my back. Fantasy football is primarily a guy thing, I am the only wife on the league and they actually let me into the "guy's room" -yes, that's what they call it, the GUY'S ROOM-the first year they actually considered asking me to do my draft from the hallway so I wouldn't breach the sanctity of this room with my ovaries.

But this is one of the reasons that we work. We compromise. I started liking football and he watched 3 seasons of “Grey’s Anatomy”….it’s a fair trade, I guess.

Plus, I firmly believe there is a good chance I’m going to kick his butt this year!!

f.r.o.G…fully relying on God
–Anissa

Peytonism for the day–

"You have to eat something healthy before you have junk, right?" <–loosely based on the fact that I make her eat something healthy before she can have junky snacks

"That's right."

"Did see me eat those strawberries?"

"Yes, I did."

"Can I have some?"

"Have some what?"

"Junk, mom, can I have some junk now??"