The Fantasy Baseball Ties That Bind

Years ago, I realized that I just don’t have the temperament for fantasy sports in the same way I don’t have the temperament for gambling or competitive sports. The concept of “shaking it off” is easier said than done, and I hated the fact that my emotional state on Sundays (and often on Mondays) depended entirely on people I don’t know who play for teams I don’t follow. But I do miss the easy camaraderie that came along with it, and the way life got checked at the door of the group chat. Jordan Ritter Conn seems to feel the same way, and his exploration of how fantasy sports have given rise to profound friendships is the most heartwarming thing I’ve read this week—in a week when heartwarming was in exceedingly short supply.

Years ago, when I was younger and more obnoxious, I decided that fantasy represented everything wrong with sports; sports were supposed to be about connecting a team of athletes to the fans who lived and worked in the cities they represented. Fantasy, I argued, flattened the humanity of the players and forced people to sometimes root against their real teams in favor of the guys on make-believe teams that existed only on a screen. 

Now? I’m older and less self-righteous, and I realize that I’ve spent years missing out on what I presume to be a never-ending group chat in which my closest friends, their siblings, one guy someone worked with for a summer in college, and another whom we randomly met at a bachelor party weekend all roast one another in ways that feel, at least occasionally, like love. 

I am a man, in my early 40s, and I have regrets.