Fantasy leagues keep pace with pros

Doug Haller
The Arizona Republic
Sept. 4, 2005 12:00 AM

In the restaurant's darkness, Bob Richards of Cave Creek is wired. "You ready to rock?" he asks friend Tim Martin.

They slide into a corner booth at the Pink Pony Steak House in Old Town Scottsdale. It's Sunday morning, just before 10. Half of the restaurant is packed, but no one is eating.

Instead, nearly 30 people, representing 14 teams, hunch over glossy sports magazines, old newspapers and pages of football statistics. They are cramming for their annual fantasy football draft, a holiday of sorts for sports fans casual and obsessed.
advertisement


As pro football's popularity soars, so does that of its fantasy sidekick. Once upon a time, fantasy games were for nerds, unfortunate souls beaten up by Raiders fans.

Times have changed. Industry experts predict nearly 15 million people will field fantasy football teams this season, spending an average of $154 on league registration and insider information along the way.

"It's a little concerning," said John Hansen, owner of New Jersey-based FantasyGuru.com. "Fantasy football has exploded so much; I wonder if it will become a fad that will quickly burn out. I'm sure that won't happen, but it's in the back of my mind."

Those packed inside the Pink Pony aren't worried. They're lifers and, in some ways, pioneers. Their unnamed league formed in 1985, the year one team gambled on a rookie from Mississippi Valley State. Guy named Jerry Rice.

Among the owners are architects and engineers, bartenders and debt collectors. There's a retired police officer, a real-estate agent and two women who have cutouts of Joe Montana, Brett Favre and Touchdown Jesus displayed for good luck.

Then there's Bob and Tim.

Bob, 40, a father of three, is about to open his own business. Tim, 47, a father of two, is a food and beverage manager with Tonto Verde Golf Club. They're fantasy fanatics, trading countless phone calls every football Sunday, monitoring the Internet for every touchdown scored.

This season's goal is to avoid the Toilet Bowl, where the bottom six teams go to fight in consolation. Bob and Tim wound up there last year. They lost that, too.

This year offers hope. Bob and Tim have the draft's first pick. Since the league scoring system favors quarterbacks, the selection is a no-brainer.

"Peyton Manning, Indianapolis Colts," Bob's oldest child, 12-year-old Bailey, tells the league commissioner.

Fantasy football's lure is ownership. It deputizes armchair quarterbacks, giving them authority to draft and trade players of their choosing. It's about bragging rights and trash talking, about proving your football IQ to anyone who will listen, and Bob and Tim take it seriously, studying their draft sheets like law students.

They take Clinton Portis in the second round and Chad Johnson in the third.

Their fourth selection brings debate. Bailey, Bob's daughter, wants tight end Alge Crumpler of the Atlanta Falcons. She likes his name.

Bob thinks it's too early to take a tight end.

"We got J.J. Arrington from Arizona still out there," he whispers. "But do we really want a Cardinal?"

"No!" Bailey and Tim say in unison.

"He's a new running back," Bob pleads. "He's fresh."

"Dad, no Cardinals," Bailey says.

But this is a new year. These are new times. So Bob sticks with his gut, placing his fantasy hopes in the hands of an Arizona rookie who's long on potential, short on experience.

In the world of fantasy football, it's one small step in the Pink Pony, potentially one giant leap from the Toilet Bowl.