Dumbest 'hobby' ever?

Welp, folks, it is that time again. The temperatures are dropping, the leaves will soon start falling and, most important to me, football season is just around the corner.

Though I hate to see summer go, the promise of pigskin makes the proposition palatable. The sound of the Mustang’s cleats clippity clopping down South Seventh on Friday nights starts the weekend off right. The Griz galloping onto the field while the band strikes into Up with Montana on Saturdays marks midway of my three-day football fancy. Sunday is for professionals and my Oakland Raiders punctuate my gridiron gala … more often than not with a loss…oye, they are rotten.

Football season in the Hebert household turns me into a cave dweller. Aside from pacing the visitor’s sidelines in Malta on Friday night -- doing my best to capture portraits of players -- this caveman is plopped in front of the flat screen, Dorito dust everywhere with little regard for personal hygiene for 72 hours.

Some people don’t understand or share the passion I have for football (sorry, Rosemary.) I know that some people find it silly and for the most part, I agree – though I ain’t changing it. However, there is one aspect of the sport that even I find ludicrous and that is the fantasy aspect of the sport.

Fantasy football, over the last 20 years, has become synonymous with the NFL. If you aren’t familiar with the pastime, groups of grown men – and some ladies – gather before the season starts and one by one select NFL players to “play” on their “teams” with the ultimate goal being that when the season ends, your players have captured more points than your opponents and in turn you are a “winner.”

Ironically, the people who gave the “Dungeons and Dragons Dorks” grief back in high school are the same folks addicted to roleplaying contest.

Though I think fantasy football is ridiculous, I’ve been a faithful player in the game since I was in my teens. The practice adds a lot to my Sundays and when the pro team you are fanatical about stinks – and mine does – it gives me one more reason to stay perched in my Lazy Boy. I am currently only in one league (though, if anyone in Phillips County needs another “player” let me know) with my brother in Missoula, one of my best friends in San Diego and good old Pierre, the PCN’s sports editor. We don’t play for money in said league, but rather pride and bragging rights. We are “dorks” in every sense of the word.