A Love Letter To My Home League: Why Starting A Fantasy Football League Is The Best Decision You'll Make
Cooterdoodle puts pen to paper and writes a heartfelt message to her home league, reminding us all why we play fantasy football.
To be abundantly clear: I know how to win.
I've held my home league's trophy to my lips. I've slid my fingertips along my golden nameplate late at night. And despite the other men who have tried to take her from me, I've made her mine.
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But it's never been about winning. Not really.
My home league is my first league and my last league. It means everything to me.
And no, it's not because I'm inexperienced. I’m no prude! I've experimented. Trust me.
I've tried leagues with strangers that felt like illicit affairs. I've secretly joined big-money leagues*. I've gotten kinky with IDP leagues, QB-only leagues, “-10 pts penalties for missed kicks” leagues. If you can imagine it, I've tried it.
*The secret was actually on me. I didn't know the full buy-in until the championship ended, and the commissioner told me he'd take the rest of my dues out of my winnings. I'm forever in debt to Stefon Diggs in 2022 for saving me from an embarrassingly overdue Venmo payment.
But once the initial excitement dies down, they all leave me feeling empty and unfulfilled (yes, even when I win).
Because after enough time, those lust-riddled leagues have always fallen silent or completely fallen apart altogether. And that's okay.
Leagues bloom and leagues implode.
It's the life cycle of fantasy football when the sum isn't greater than the whole of its parts.
And while many of us like to blame our broken leagues on the whispers of collusion that have tainted the league, the burden of joining too many leagues at once, or even suspicious commissioners … those reasons are never truly the culprit.
Great leagues can survive anything.
My first league has survived collusion proven in the court of law*. It survived a disgruntled significant other breaking our championship trophy.
It has survived extreme rule changes, the hardships of having kids and responsibilities, the weight of losing family members mid-season, divorce hearings and much, much worse**.
But great leagues can survive anything.
Leagues fall apart when the members forget that it's never been about winning. Not really.
Leagues are a breed of their own: A third space that can infiltrate first spaces(home) and second spaces (work/school). And this flexibility is what makes it take root. With fantasy football, we can take our third space with us wherever we go. The trash talking, the group chats, the trade proposals, the banter. And dare I say … the friendship.
In a world where third spaces are dying, fantasy football persists.
We just have to show up.
This doesn't mean you can't join the big money leagues or the kinky, novelty rule leagues. It doesn't mean you can't join a league full of strangers.
It just means that you have to find ways to prioritize the relationships you're making along the way.
Because the relationships will outlast the payouts.
The relationships will even outlast the trophy***.
* I'm using "law" loosely here. The crime was confessed to us in Leaguemate Cody's kitchen one evening. And for us, that was enough to deliver a verdict.
** I can't get into the details. Just know that it has nothing to do with cowboys, and everything to do with cowboy boots.
*** Especially if your leaguemate’s disgruntled (ex) wife gets her hands on it.
Think about it. What do your favorite memories in life consist of? Do they have anything to do with money or perfectly planned outcomes? Likely, no.
Some of my favorite memories come from the most unpredictable of moments, because they were shared with people I enjoy.
In fact, some of my favorite memories come from the downright terrible decisions we've made together. Not efficient. Not optimized. Not strategized.
It has everything to do with the people.
My favorite memories in fantasy come from Leaguemate Trey drafting Golden Tate with the 1.01 in 2017. Or Leaguemate Steven bringing a soundboard to the draft and pissing every single one of us off for three hours straight. Or Leaguemate Justin drafting Jalen Hurts in the first round of a NON-Superflex redraft league in 2025*. Or Leaguemate Haley accidentally drafting all the players with criminal records**.
*We still think he printed off Super Flex rankings by mistake that year. If you knew Justin, this seemingly hard-to-make mistake would make a lot more sense.
**Anytime there's a new league controversy, we naturally ask her which round she'll be drafting them.
We've never let them live it down. And we never will.
Roasting each other is a privilege that I do not take for granted.
But my first league isn't perfect. We've experienced it all, even turnover. We've lost leaguemates due to breakups, disinterest and moving across state lines. But after a few tough years of "12th-Member Turn Over", we found a way to get through it (great leagues can survive anything, remember?).
We even opened up our 2023 live draft with an "En Memoriam" slide show highlighting all of our lost leaguemates*.
And you know what? We haven't lost a member since (not to brag).
But to be abundantly clear: I am no gatekeeper of fantasy.
You are free to play in the leagues you'd like with whatever feverish level of expectation you wish.
Me? I'll welcome the degenerate who drafts Zero RB with the same open arms as I welcome the unplugged idiot who inevitably drafts Tyler Shough five rounds too early because they bleed black & gold**.
*Alexa! Play "I Will Remember You" by Sarah McLaughlan
**I'll never get my filthy hands on Tyler Shough.
Those are my degenerates. They are my unplugged idiots.
And I'd walk through fire for them.*
* I've walked from Poydras St. to the Super Dome with many of these guys at peak hours in the Louisiana heat. So, I basically have walked through fire with them.
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