Wherein I Confess

Last updated on: December 23, 2014 at 8:48 pm by Tom Zampino

Wherein I Confess 2014-12-23T20:48:48-05:00 Tom Zampino

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I can’t blog any more until I get this off my chest. It wouldn’t be right. You need to know that I have been harboring a secret.

It all started back in high school. Wow – I’m not even good at owning up. Let me start over. It actually started earlier than that, like when I was around 7 or 8. Maybe even earlier. Yes, I was quite precocious. I can’t really remember a time when it didn’t cause at least some internal grief, although it was always very much hidden away, even from my parents.

It became more and more difficult to hide it from my peers once I reached puberty. Especially in the boys locker room after gym class. And it’s been nearly impossible to hide it as an adult, constantly inundated by images and sounds at nearly every turn. And the peer pressure can be intense. I feel alone, misunderstood, incapable of ever fitting in, ashamed. Only my closest friends know.

But here I am, ready to admit it publicly. Ok . . . deep breath . . . here goes:

I know next to nothing about sports. There, I said it. I feel better. A little.

Oh sure, I might find myself caught up occasionally in World Series mania – if the Yankees are playing and it’s the last game in an already tied series. But I paid absolutely no attention to the World Cup games.

Yes, I have been invited to a few Super Bowl parties. Of course, I still need to be reminded about when the game will be on and who’s playing. But for me, it’s a chance to relax, drink a little, and watch some wacky TV commercials. Oh, the game’s back on? Where’s my iPhone? Let me see what my Facebook friends are saying about the game that I’m not actually watching. Maybe I’ll catch a little half-time. You see, I’m not really sure about the score keeping. Or about what a linebacker does. Or how an offensive strategy differs from a defensive one. Actually, that last one’s a little easier for me because I can visualize prosecutors and defense counsel sparring in a courtroom. Yeah, I know . . . lawyers.

And Fantasy Football? You’ve got to be kidding me.

Actually, I had no difficulty understanding the basics of Fantasy Football once they were explained. That’s why I was a surprised when I heard that ESPNW – the sport network’s “women’s” channel – came up with this blockheaded idea from three women calling themselves the “Sisters Williams“:

You can find all sorts of incredible analysis and debate about whether Peyton Manning is a better pick than Aaron Rodgers, and we read all of it. But sometimes it feels like fantasy analysts end up competing over who can apply the most obscure stat to each player’s projections. Seriously, no one cares if a quarterback has the fifth-best completion percentage on balls thrown 38 or more yards down the field. Especially since he probably only does it once a game. So we have tried to simplify things, and that’s why we have a simple relationship-based rating system that cuts through all of the clutter. LeSean McCoy and Calvin Johnson are two of the very best players in the game, so we consider them “Marriage Material” (elite players). Arian Foster and Andre Johnson? “Boyfriend Potential” (terrific catches). Wes Welker and Vernon Davis — “It’s Complicated” (pretty good placeholders until you find something better). And so on.

Really ESPNW? “Marriage material”? “Boyfriend potential”? A “relationship-based rating system”? Do you really think that women can’t grasp football statistics unless turned into dating and marriage stats? Toto has not only left Kansas, he may have time-traveled back to the 19th century. Adweek takes the sisters to task here.

Now, I don’t know whether this rating system is, to use Adweek’s term, truly degrading to women, or just plain silly. Or whether it crosses some line over into the objectification of the male players – Simcha Fisher might be better equipped to address that topic. But it certainly seems to be a public relations misfire if the goal is to attract more women – and their money – to the game.

What say you? Too much fantasy, not enough football?

Oh, about that Homer Simpson picture above? It’s apparently authentic. The Vatican’s daily newspaper, L’Osservatore Romano, has already claimed that Homer is one of us.

Peace

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