Diary Of A Fantasy Football Wife

Ethan was a six-months-old and Grant was barely three when Brent tried to explain.

“It’s a draft. And I have to be on the computer at the same time as all of the guys I’m playing against. It is time sensitive. I need to be online with all of them or I will miss out on the players I really want. The computer will choose for me and that could be bad. Also, before the draft starts, I need some time to think through exactly who I am going to choose.”

I was listening. But this is what I heard.

“I know you have been with a nursing baby and a needy three-year-old all day. I’m sure you’ve been pooped on, spit on, hit on and screamed at, but nevertheless, at 7pm I am going upstairs into my office and shutting the door. You may not see me for the rest of the night. You will be handling bedtime and bathtime alone. I hope you were able to sneak a nap today.”

Confessions of a Fantasy Football Wife.

This game, so harmless and fun, was my enemy. Pulling for a favorite NFL team was now a thing of the past. Every team, every game – an opportunity to score points. I didn’t get it. I just didn’t get it.

It has taken time, years obviously, for me to come to grips with the truth that Brent enjoys Fantasy Football. He enjoys it because it is not just about football. It is a conglomeration of male bonding, healthy competition and the love of the game. All three bring Brent joy.

And if Fantasy Football brings Brent joy, then it brings me joy, too.

The two will become one flesh. Ephesians 5:31His league is my league. His team is my team. Instead of being his biggest opponent, I need to be his biggest fan.

Tuesday night, I sat and listened as Brent told me all about his draft. He’s taking a different route this year, just so you know. His strategy is different. This just might be his best draft yet. {smile}

I want to support my man. In everything. I want him to know he is a great dad, a great husband, a servant leader, full of grace, full of love and one heck of a Fantasy Football Coach.

So what if it takes him away for a few hours here and there. I can deal. My quality-time-love-language will just have to wait. He does so much for his family. Shame on me for taping my toe over this. It really is harmless. These guys don’t even bet money.

Here’s to another Fantasy Football season! I’m pumped for you Brent. Forgive me of my selfishness over the years.

I get it now. I get it.

And don’t be surprised if I am running around the house screaming for Chris Johnson to trip over his shoelaces when he’s about to score a 78-yard touchdown. I just don’t want him to cost your team the title.