Accidentally competitive at Fantasy Football – Deseret News

The day after ESPN Fantasy Football kicked off, the Deseret News HR guy asked me if I was able to complete the draft. I think he posed the question because I’d had a power outage that day. But there was also a really good chance he was asking if I figured out how to do it.
But let me back up and introduce myself. I am closer to 70 than 60, a great speller, and most of what I know about football is from covering health and writing about Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy. I also, I should note, once interviewed Joe Namath when he was spokesman 20-some years ago for an osteoarthritis prevention campaign. I have a photograph to prove it (thanks, Retired Camera Guy).
I married a man — and I swear this was by chance — who is almost as into sports as I am. We basically know who’s in the Super Bowl if we have a candy bar invested in a chocolate betting pool. In nearly 30 years of wedded bliss, we have attended exactly zero football games.
It was probably a fair question from HR Guy.
Still, I always participate in March Madness (I like basketball) and fantasy leagues, at least through the sign-up stage. I love picking who will be on my team. When it’s basketball, I might pick teams whose roster includes a player with a color for a last name or maybe a team with more consonants than vowels. I once filled out the brackets based on which team had the most letters in all their last names combined.
I take my always-changing, nonsensical criteria very seriously.
At least twice, I won the whole candy bar stash.
In Fantasy Football, I’ve had to change my strategy, because you’re picking people, one at a time. But nothing’s changed in how my brain works, so I might pick players with names I am not positive how to pronounce — welcome, Emari Demercado and John Christian Ka’iminoeauloameka’ikeokekumu pa’a Fairbairn. If I run out of those options, I like rhymes, so Brock Bowers and Zay Flowers are dear to me. Since Husband’s surname is Kyle, I added Kyler Murray to the mix this year and was later devastated when he hurt his foot. He was good to me before that.
Most years, I haven’t done very well, probably because I didn’t think to drop players and add new ones or move anyone to and fro. I’ve treated a “bye” like it’s just a see-ya-later word. Last year, I started strong and finished dead last because I picked my roster and never looked at it again. Oops.
It didn’t help that I never bothered to read the instructions.
I’m an easy mark, and this year I didn’t question his goodwill when Sports Guy No. 1 offered me a “sweet-deal trade” because I’d accidentally deprived him of his favorite player. Sure, no problem. Take him. I’m not attached.
Then a funny thing started to happen, and while I’m delighted, I’m also not sure I like it. I started doing pretty well. As in No. 1 or 2 in my league (yeah, it’s small. But there are sports writers on it. They are paid to follow sports). Lazy as I am, I like winning. So I casually started peppering conversations with a question or two. I asked Church News Guy how to trade the guys scoring zip at the top of my list with the guys in the bottom section who had numbers after their names. Those are the starters and the bench. See? You can teach an old dog …
I asked Marketing Gal how to add players.
Sports Guy 2 kindly told me what Q and O and IR mean. It seems O is not “O, gosh, I’m glad you’re on my team.” It’s shorthand for “throw him OUT. He’s not going to score.” I probably should have read that detailed ESPN page.
I had no trouble understanding SSPD. It showed up next to my most consistent player, Ja’Marr Chase, making me sad.
Sports Guy 3 told me he had faith in me, so I kept going.
Tech Gal scolded me for dropping someone good and made me get him back. Sporting of her, since we’ve been bouncing back and forth between No. 1 and No. 2.
Husband recently noticed I visit the Fantasy Football page some nights to admire how tenaciously Lucky Lokies have held on so far.
I like to believe my colleagues are secretly rooting for me, because who doesn’t love a real team win? And I am as close as they’re going to get, since I’ve completely crowd-sourced my limited, but growing, knowledge.
I have, as Editor Guy has noticed, a competitive streak. I do the Utah Treasure Hunt — once climbed Ben Lomond in the dark on an artificial knee to get a QR code. I’ll go all-in on limerick contests that offer absolutely no prize or recognition. And with a slight whiff of success, I become a little crazed.
Which means I am really crazed right now. I am ahead — though I know I probably can’t ride it to the end or maybe even to when this column runs. And Tech Gal and Video Man are now two games back. Tech Gal and I have bonded over being ahead of the guys, so we’re fantasy frenemies. Video Man is, for the duration of these games, my enemy, as I told him quite pleasantly last week. He didn’t just best me, he bruised me in our meetup, trouncing me by more than 50 points. My two best players had see-ya-laters and the others were apparently playing miniature golf.
I suspect I’ll go back to my lackluster ways in 2026, though I’m a little worried that I’ve learned just enough and now care more than enough to mess with my carefree, goofy team-picking ways.
Once you’ve seen expert projections, I suspect you can’t unsee them. And when you know the difference between the OPRK and the PRK, you’re pretty much done.

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