Worse than real life — and it sucks!

Pain and Gain — The double-edged sword of Fantasy Sports

Here’s a quick recipe for injecting the hair-pulling frustration we all need into our weekends. It takes about six days of preparation time, not including the months of research into the perfect ingredients…we’ll start with a more basic version.

Start with two handfuls of money, a cup or two of passion (or insanity), a few spoonfuls of obsession, and a pinch of normally friendly competition. Start on Tuesday and let this set until Thursday afternoon, then transfer into a boiling oven of prediction metrics you have absolutely no control over. Check again on it Sunday morning — by 10AM PT it should be ready. Vòila! You now have a perfectly fantasy fecal flambé.

If you’ve played fantasy sports before, you’ve very likely asked yourself a pretty macro-cosmic question: why do I even bother? Is it worth this existential misery we subscribe to, watching a wide receiver drop the touchdown that would put you over the top that week? Seeing your star goalie get shelled for four goals against on ten shots? Watching your first overall pick struggle shooting the threes with which he’s made his career?

Well, much like team sports do on the pitch or the field, fantasy sports seems to breed a sense of community. The league you play in, whether random or made up of friends, becomes the neighbourhood pub where stories of hits and misses become legendary and a spirit of mutual misery forges growing camaraderie — even empathy! Everyone can probably use a little more of that in their daily lives.

Fantasy sports, much like the real ones they emulate, are a season-long grind of pain and gain, alternating turns of patting butts and kicking your own for making that 9:53AM Sunday morning swap that costs you a win.

Maybe you get a really cool trophy and drink some beers out of it. Maybe you have to wear a toilet-bowl cape instead. Such is life...or fantasy.