From Thursday through Monday, my household runs on football. It doesn’t matter who’s playing; we watch. Haymakers, Huskers, and all the NFL teams I didn’t even know existed, including the Vikings, and everything else gets scheduled around it. Dinner? Depends on halftime. Family events? I have an excuse.
What started as me getting roped into the guys’ fantasy football league, because they needed one more person, has turned into a full-on tradition. And honestly, I hope it continues until I’m too old to work electronics… which, judging by my current track record with lost phones, could be next season.
My fantasy football strategy is simple: pick the good guys. Do I win? Yes, actually. Do I always win? No. But I’ll never draft certain players, no matter how many touchdowns they score. I do my research, read the stats, and still ask the occasional “dumb” question, partly to keep the guys guessing, partly because sometimes I genuinely don’t know what’s happening. But nothing beats the look on their faces when I beat them. That’s my Super Bowl.
Now, here’s my big confession. I’m a total bandwagon fan. I don’t even deny it. My son reminds me every game day, just in case I forget. My favorite team used to be the Dolphins… until we watched their quarterback get concussed multiple times and still trot back onto the field. As a mom of a kid with a brain injury, I couldn’t support that. In my opinion, it set a bad example. Especially as we still live every day doing all the things to protect my kids’ noggin.
Then Brock Purdy showed up, and I was suddenly yelling “Go 49ers!” like I’d been a lifelong fan. And then I switched again. Justin Fields became my guy. He lives with epilepsy, speaks out about it, and uses his platform to raise awareness. That’s the kind of role model I want my son to see. And again, after my kid got to interview Nik Bonitto, who is just as impressive off the field as on it, boom, I was a Broncos fan, too.
Bandwagon? Absolutely. Badge worn with pride.
Meanwhile, my son can rattle off the most random stats you’ve ever heard. “Mom, did you know this guy ran X yards back in 2018 on a Thursday when it was 47 degrees?” No, son, I did not. How does he remember that, and struggle with memory? Blows my mind!
And no, I still don’t care about the ribbing he gives. But when he tries to tease me about my “fake fandom,” I come back with my own facts, like which players donate to charities, which ones speak about their faith and family, or who invest more money in their bodies than in their houses.
Sometimes it sounds something like, “Oh yeah, well did you know that a last season, or two seasons ago, this player spent his offseason giving free football lessons or did a football signing or something, and the only cost for kids was that they had to agree to learn CPR, which his sister or mom taught”. I sound unsure in my brag, but when my kid googles it to try and prove me wrong, he finds out what incredible things some people do. Try topping that, stat boy.
So yes, I’m a bandwagon fan. But I’m also teaching my son that it’s okay to go against the grain, cheer for who you like, and ignore the noise. And more importantly, I hope I’m teaching my kid that at the end of the day, stats are just numbers. Character is what matters.
And remember friends, don’t take my mom advice, I don’t have proof it works yet.
A ten-toes-down mom,
Liz
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