COLUMN: Fantasy sports, Steve style
I’m a guy. I like to watch sports. I figured I might as well cut the relish and state the obvious.
However, I can’t say I enjoy watching sports, as much as I enjoy talking about sports. Most EPSN-ers like me follow the same pattern. We may never have the gall to run a QB sneak on a fourth-and-one or hit a 12-to-6 curve ball; but believe me when I say, we can analyze the electrolytes out of it from here to Lake Placid. We’re a lot like Jimmy the Greek, without the whole being-addicted-to-everything thing.
There’s no better proof of this than can be found in studying fantasy football. Honestly. The triumph and splendor of artificially following the progress of a tight end, one wouldn’t normally care about, for the sake of bragging rights among buddies at the workplace, apartment, most bus stops and in He-Man Woman Haters Club meetings, is generally all the acceptance I need to feel good about my place in society.
There’s only one problem. In an event more tragic than simply confusing, my 2011 fantasy team stinks. And I mean reeks, worse than one of those creature things you’d see on an episode of “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” One of my best players is hurt, and I have quite possibly the most inconsistent quarterback this side of Shane Falco. In just about every way things look downright glum.
In lieu of this, I have three possible remedies — do some research and improve my team, hang up my boots and focus on something more productive to society or, most popularly, create my own fantasy-style league with something I know I can master. With the obvious notion that I’m choosing the last of these options, welcome to the first ever ‘90s Sitcom Fantasy League.
First and foremost, here are some rules and regulations:
1. Each player must draft one person for each position; scores will be specific to each position then added up for a total score.
2. Points added for catchy theme songs, dramatic PSA announcements at end of episodes, and Sinbad cameos.
3. No points awarded for “Friends” characters. Any points will be deducted for “Frasier” characters, since nobody liked that show anyway.
The positions are as follows:
The Well-Balanced Protagonist (WBP) — Not a ton to question here. The WBP is the starting quarterback of any ‘90s fantasy team. With its emotional balance, well-timed wit and ability to diffuse dry humor at a moments notice, it’s well said no team can survive without one. Points awarded for monologue length, lessons learned and catch phrase/comeback comparison percentages.
WBP Draft Probables (in order): Jerry Seinfeld, Zack Morris, Cory Matthews, Alf, Will Smith, Blossom, that guy from “Coach”.
The Disciplined Authoritative Figure (DAF) — This falls under many categories, whether it be a parent, school teacher or “Charles in Charge.” A good DAF knows the rules and follows them, but knows the right moment to give a gentle touch and possibly a non-brand can of soda. Points for lessons taught, botched rappers names and dinner plates spilt.
DAF Draft Probables: Danny Tanner, Mr. Feeney, Mr. Belding, Uncle Phil or Carl Winslow (or both, I think they’re the same person), Alf, either aunt from “Sabrina the Teenage Witch.”
The Sidekick Persona (SP) — The SP position is hard to fill simply because of its brevity. Any best friend or sibling could easily fill in this spot. This is very much the running back of the crew — energetic, quick to protect, and probably has big shoulders. Points awarded for dry jokes attempted, successful big sister crushes and episode wedgie percentage.
SP Draft Probables: Uncle Jessie or Joey, Carlton, any of the Taylor brothers or Tanner sisters, George Costanza, any “Wings” character (specifically Helen), or Alf.
The Situational Love Interest (SLI) — This one speaks for itself. Points for hotness, moments of support, and, OK, we all know hotness is really what matters here.
SLI Draft Probables: Topanga, Kelly Kapowski, Harvey from “Clarissa Explains it All,” Steve from “Full House,” Alf in a wig, any female brave enough to be on “My Two Dads.”
The Format Bender/Comical Relief (FB/CR) — Goofy. Wacky. Makes so little
sense it somehow makes sense. A classic FB or CR is the glue of any ‘90s fantasy club. Just make sure of one thing: keep pie throwing to a minimum — it gets old quick. Points for catch phrases created, ethnic laugh track lag time, obvious moments stated and awkward first kisses.
FB/CR Draft Probables: Steve Urkel, Screech, Todd from “Step By Step,” Kimmy Gibbler, Salem the Cat, any of the cavemen on, well, “Cavemen.” No Alf here, though — that man was stoic.
And there you have it. Now it’s your turn. Email me your concocted ‘90s Sitcom Fantasy Team, and I may just feature you in a future column. Heck, if nothing else I can always use your picture as a freeze frame during catchy closing credits, but that’s no promise.
— Steve Schwartzman is a junior majoring in marketing and minoring in speech communication. His column runs every Wednesday. He loves sports, comedy and creative writing. He encourages any comments at his email steve.schwartzman@aggiemail.usu.edu, or find him on Facebook.