It’s that time of the year again — Fantasy Football is back and I still don’t get it!
I have made fun of fantasy football and the guys that participate in it for years. Tuesday night, I participated in it for the first time.
I was approached to help out a co-worker who lost his partner, so would I get involved to help out? I was assured I wouldn't have to go to any "draft nights" or do much of anything, just "participate" financially. Sure, why not!
I'll even go to the draft thingy with my fellow colleagues and hang out and even bring some food. Thankfully the guys I work with are great and it was cool to hang out and eat some food, have a beer and break each others balls.
This same scene played out at bars, clubhouses, man caves and conference rooms all over the country this week and the result is the same. I don't get it.
I think the main attraction is an escape from the wife and kids and the reality of life's sameness and routine. A chance to compete without really competing. A chance to earn bragging rights and some pretty serious cash if you end up winning the whole thing. It's a phenomenon of modern male existence whose appeal eludes me.
But it's a $70 billion market, so I'm clearly on the wrong side of what's popular. More money is in this derivative market than the actual revenue of the NFL. I still don't understand it, but my partner does, and hopefully the time and energy he put into our "draft" will pay off to the tune of several hundred dollars.
So whether we win or lose my participation this week has taught me at least one thing. I was right. I'll never get it.
More from New Jersey 101.5: