Back in May of 1994, when I met the woman who would become my wife, I had been playing fantasy baseball for a couple of years. Our first date was to a Phillies game, but I didn’t tell Jacquie about my fantasy team or the players on my squad who were playing in the game we attended. As the months went on, I continued to keep my fantasy team a secret from her. She knew I wasn’t cool, but I didn’t want her to know exactly how uncool I was. (In 1994, fantasy baseball was still the exclusive province of extreme baseball nerds.)
The Commissioner of my league was a co-worker of mine named Jeff. Jeff was dating a former classmate of Jacquie’s named Jane. In September of 1994, the four of us decided to go on a double date to another Phillies game.
During the game, as you might imagine, Jeff and I kept referring to “our players” who were on the field that night, and probably discussed some potential trades. Jacquie, who still didn’t know I played fantasy baseball, had no idea what Jeff and I were talking about, so Jane filled her in. Jane was extremely jealous when she discovered that Jacquie and I had been dating for five months without my once mentioning my fantasy team.
At that point, though, the cat was out of the bag, and I felt free to discuss my team with Jacquie. She was a good sport about it for a few years. Indeed, for a couple of years she even helped me prepare for my draft, by typing out projections that I dictated to her for my draft board. (She is a much faster typist than I am, as I got myself thrown out of typing class in middle school for being a wise-ass.)
Back then we held our drafts in person, usually somewhere warm in early- to mid-March. Jacquie and I had a son in late March of 1998, and I suspect – although I can’t remember for sure – that I probably attended that year’s draft when Jacquie was eight-plus months pregnant. Jacquie would remember, but I’m not going to ask her and re-open old wounds. (One of my league-mates, Warren, who was kind enough to review a draft of this post, reminds me that we held the 1998 draft in the community room of my apartment complex, to allow me to attend despite Jacquie’s advanced state of pregnancy. Still, the fact that I thought I might have traveled to that draft troubles me.)
What I do remember is that the next couple of drafts took place when our son was not feeling well, which left Jacquie home with a sick toddler while I flew off to Florida for my fantasy draft. That did not go over well with Jacquie and led me to insist that the league amend its in-person draft policy to allow me to draft by phone. Internet drafts were not a thing in those days. (Warren also reminds me that for one of those drafts in which I participated by phone, he stood on a wooden chair near a window in order to get cell phone reception to receive and relay my draft picks. Warren is a good friend.)
As time went on, Jacquie found my fantasy baseball obsession to be increasingly annoying, as she didn’t like sharing my limited free time and attention with my imaginary baseball players. Eventually we reached a sort of détente, in which I refrained from mentioning my team or checking scores during family time, and Jacquie grudgingly accepted that I wouldn’t give up my precious hobby. And to her credit, she has been quite supportive of my new hobby: writing this fantasy baseball column.
After more than 25 years of trying to reconcile my love for Jacquie with my addiction to fantasy baseball, I have reached some conclusions about how best to reduce the inevitable conflicts. Here are some suggestions for your consideration:
- No one outside your league cares about your fantasy baseball team, including your significant other. Try not to talk about it, or to pay attention to it when you should be paying attention to him or her. (But see suggestion number 7.)
- Use your fantasy baseball winnings to buy a thoughtful gift for your significant other. Most of us play for the glory of victory and not the prize money, so why not put the money to good use in thanking your significant other for tolerating your addiction? (Absent extraordinary circumstances, tickets to a baseball game do not count as a thoughtful gift.)
- Don’t take calls from your league-mates while your significant other is nearby. Trade discussions can wait. This is not as important as ignoring your cell phone while driving, but still pretty important. (My league-mate Mark has found a creative solution to this problem: if I call him during family time, he simply hands his phone to his wife Taylor, who has never accepted one of my trade offers.)
- Try to schedule your drafts for after your kids go to bed, or some other time that is less inconvenient for your significant other. (I would suggest that you draft during work hours, perhaps over a long lunch, but some of my colleagues might read this column. . . .)
- Don’t play in too many leagues at once. Enough is enough. (I would not presume to tell you how many leagues are too many, but if you’re trying to trade players in one league that you’ve rostered only in other leagues, you’re probably playing in too many leagues.)
- Don’t let an underperforming fantasy team affect your mood. Leave it on the (imaginary) field. (But if your fantasy team is winning, feel free to be extra-cheerful!)
- If, despite what I said in #1, your significant other actually takes an interest in your fantasy team, that is a gift! Do not take it for granted.
