I had heard the rumors around the office and each morning I opened my mailbox, waiting for the email I knew was inevitable. My stomach was in knots, my palms sweating, my bowels shaken. There was no getting out of it…
Fantasy Football was starting.
I was hired last October and so missed being able to play (darn!). This year, however, I got the invitation. THE INVITATION.
Problem is, I don’t know anything about football, let alone the fantasy part. No, that’s not true. I know that Brett Favre still looked hot, even wearing the God-awful braces on his teeth. I know that the New England Patriots quarterback, whats-his-face Tom somebody, had a baby with Bridget Moynahan (love her) but broke up with her mid-pregancy and started dating Giselle Bundchen who was with Leonardo DiCaprio for such a long time! They were a cute couple, but I think he’s taking the whole Howard Hughes thing a little seriously. And did you see him new girlfriend. OMG! What kind of name is Bar?
OH! Sorry, I have digressed.
On the rare occasion I do watch with my husband, I pick my favored team by the colors on their uniform or who’s got the nicest butts (overall). Big surprise, I don’t win a lot of times.
To be quite honest, I really don’t care about fantasy football. But that fantasy pigskin that could help my career. I am hoping that if I make a good enough showing, actually look like I know what I am doing, my boss just might start calling me the correct name. He won the league thingy last year which asks the question: Do you through a game to let your boss win? Are their etiquette rules to this whole thing?
Yesterday, I enlisted the help of a new friend to be my ghost coach. From what I have read, he’s really into this whole thing, and I am not above slipping him some cash or freshly baked brownies to help me pull this thing off.
Next post: Naming my team
