Nobody Cares

My love of sports has waned considerably since childhood, most likely because I never really cared to begin with, but was born into an athletically minded family and was too insecure to fight the grain. Despite my general indifference to televised athletics, the NFL has kept me securely tethered to the world of professional sports, mainly due to my obsession with fantasy football. My love of fantasy football reaches to such an extent that I wouldn’t be surprised if it became a major point of contention in all of my future relationships. I start studying during training camp, immersing myself in player news and stat lines, and memorizing depth charts even before the season begins. However, even considering the unhealthy extremes of my football nerdery, there are few things I find more irritating than having a discussion with someone about their fantasy football team.

Actually, “discussion” may be a mild term, because although these conceited individuals usually frame the subject within a conversational structure, they obviously have little to no interest in anything you have to say. These are the same kinds of self-glorifying jock straps that can’t wait to tell you about the new spinning rims on their car, or how they totally hooked up with that hot cougar at the bar last night. I get it guys. You’re excited and you want to share that excitement with the world, but you need to deflate that cancerous lump of pride swelling in your chest, because you will not find a single person who cares. Ever. If you corner a polite stranger, they may toss you a halfhearted nod of approval, but no one could willingly match your level of enthusiasm over something so fucking stupid.

“Yeah, bro. I’ve got Peyton Manning and Adrian Peterson this year. I’ve got a good chance to win my league.”

That does nothing for me. At all. I’m one step closer to death, with nothing to show for it but the useless information that just came spilling out of your face hole. I would rather have hit myself in the head with a tack hammer, and killed those brain cells straight away, than waste them on your self-indulgent filth.

Now, as the perpetrators of these types of lopsided discourses are, in my experience, predominantly male, I want to stress that there is no topic in the English language that will make a girl lose interest in you faster than the details of your fantasy football team. You could discuss the dimensions of your ex-girlfriend’s ass and get a more passionate response, albeit an unfavorably passionate response, but even then there’s a chance to inspire jealous aggression.  If you start talking about fantasy football with a girl you’re trying to sleep with, you may as well break out the moisturizer and pick an image to jerk off to, because you just buried yourself. Be that as it may, I’m not so narrow-minded as to assume that there are no girls who will find the subject interesting, as I’m sure there are guys out there dying to talk about the Kardashians; but those individuals are few and far between.

 

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