Most of you, I suspect, are well aware of my utter disinterest in anything relating to professional sports, so it may amuse you to know I am part of a fantasy football league, which I joined last season at the behest of my friend Norm, who needed another warm body to fill out his league, and to which I continue to be a part of more or less for the same reason. My team is the called the “Mediocre Walloons,” and my strategy for the team is to let the computers pick the team members, and then to do nothing from week to week, save swap the players around in case of injuries and/or bye weeks, if I can be bothered to remember, which sometimes I cannot.
The result so far? Well, at the moment I am at the top of the league, with a 6-1 record, including a game this week that I should have lost because I forgot to swap an injured quarterback and thus gained no points from that position, but which I won anyway. I am delighted by this turn of events, not because I care about the standings, but because I know other people in the league do, and I imagine it annoys them that the one guy who isn’t actually paying much attention is kicking ass. However, with a team name like “Mediocre Walloons,” you may imagine I will not be too put out if everything goes downhill from here. Indeed, I fully expect it will. But for now: Baby, I’m on top.