Enter the Philadelphia Eagles.
At first, I chalked it up to nostalgia and a longing for home. Then - Christmas Day 2006 - we watched an Eagles game in Pennsylvania, surrounded by Eagles fans. In which the Eagles demolished the Cowboys. Even for me, it was exciting.
And football entered our house. Gradually - game by game, season by season - Mr started talking about football more. Talking, that is, to his Dad and his brother on the phone, because I certainly didn't have anything to say. Nothing positive, anyway.
You see, I felt cheated. I felt like I had married a guy who said he didn't like sports, and suddenly (by now we had cable) every Sunday afternoon and Monday night I was stuck watching football, a game I didn't understand and wasn't very interested in.
Until I signed up for Fantasy Football.
I know, a strange choice. But Mr and his brother talked me into it. (Don't forget, my brother in law can talk anyone into anything)
Here's a funny joke: in my first year playing Fantasy Football, my first three picks in the draft (10th spot out of 12, if you're wondering) were the Eagles defense, Eli Manning and Adam Vinatieri.
I came in last, if you were wondering.
In 2008, I came in second.
In 2009, I won - and that was the year we played in two leagues, one of which was for money. Guess which league I won in?
Last year, I came in dead last again (I blame Sidney Rice and Brett Favre), but did I have fun? I did.
Did I watch all the games with Mr, and was I interested? Sure did and sure was.
Did we talk about football? Obviously.
Football season is here again, and - now - I'm (almost) as excited as Mr. I might even subscribe to the CBS Fantasy Football podcast (because clearly I still need to work on my draft strategy).
Money (and time) well spent.
