Fantasy
is a dirty word. Aside from the obvious sordid options that line phone boxes
and music ‘borrowing’ sites, there is a general feeling that people who seek
escapism are, at best out of touch with reality, and at worst a subterranean
social menace. Football, being the ballet of the working classes, has escape
this vitriol somewhat, but there are ways of following it that don’t involve
keeping it real by downing ten pints and abusing the family networks of
strangers. Nowhere is there more smut than on the internet, and on no other
platform is detachment from reality viewed as skeptically Fantasy football is
big business, though not everyone seems to understand why. I want to try and
explain.
Fantasy
sports, as hard as it is to admit, are a positive recreational sporting import
from America. They started out in the bastion of liberal progressiveness that
is the golf club before being developed by the universally-loved sports press.
(Who would have thought that the bastard-child of these two founding fathers wouldn't be the prom king or queen?) Pre-generation X, fantasy sports’ perceived danger
to society can perhaps be understood, as players had to meet in
person, with the implications (as documented by Paul Rudd in Knocked Up) being
that participants had to sack-off domesticity and find weekly excuses to “go
out”, “be back late”, and “don’t wait up”.
The
internet however, changed everything. Not only could stats be electronically
stored and immediately accessed; participants – in the interests of challenging
social stigma and not alienating prospective readers, the term ‘player’ will
not be used – could get involved in their own time. When King Rupert Midas made
English football TV’s C-3P0 it extended the sport way beyond working-class
territorial identity, and (Yank) exports to broaden spectator involvement and
diversify business interests inevitably followed. Domestic fantasy football is
currently offered ‘officially’ by the Premier League, but most national
newspapers run games, Sky is the official unofficial platform, Phones4U offers
lower-league viewers an outlet and there are dedicated servers for every World
Cup, European Championship and Champions’ League season. It is big business.
The
basic appeal of the football (association, not hand-egg) format is that it is
easy to understand and use, but (supposedly) rewards knowledge and investment
exponentially. (I’m sure the hand-egg version would be easy to access too, if
only the sport’s rules were). Each version differs slightly, but general rules
of thumb are:
1)
You pick a team. This should adhere to a recognized balanced formation, so
can’t have 11 strikers. In some formats you pick a squad and choose
substitutes; otherwise you just have to hope that your players play. This team is
interchangeable throughout the competition, and selection is where the thrill
lies. An arbitrary budget is developed by each server, where players’ values
are determined by their form, reputation and point-returns in previous seasons. This
budget bears little or no resemblance to real life (although even in the world
of fantasy Stewart Downing does not represent good value in any way, shape or
form).
2)
Your team members are allocated points based on real football matches,
according to: time played, goals scored or assisted, clean sheets, saves your
keeper make (with more for penalties) and other general (quantifiable) contributions
to the game (passes, tackles etc.). Points are also deducted, for cardings, goals
conceded, penalties missed and own goals scored etc. Participants do not
influence real matches (or if they do they should be more ambitious in
profiting from it), hence the importance of, and skill in, team selection.
3)
These points are totted up and hierarchies (leagues or cup competitions) develop.
Participants usually mix open leagues (i.e. against all other players on the
network) against private or filtered leagues (based on nationality, team
supported etc.). Official prizes are usually offered and some private leagues
are set-up with financial incentives. Otherwise success is about pride.
That
is essentially it.
So
what’s the craic? Why bother playing it, and what’s wrong with people doing so?
Well,
based on the extensive surveys I conducted, back-up of course by rigorous methodological
justification and all that, people basically play for the craic. Lots of people
like football and being able to talk about it from a specific perspective adds
a degree of exclusivity to what is a pretty big club. It spares the often
narcissistic discussions about who is a ‘proper’ fan, because you don’t need to
lie about how many games you go to each season, when you got your first kit, or
how your family tree justifies certain allegiances. It is competition that
brings people together. Empathy is immediate: anyone who’s playing/ed can wryly
comment “made him captain this week” or groan “swapped [prolific goal-scorer] x
out for [Tony Jaa wannabe] y” and it doesn't matter what team you support;
you’re alrate.
This
is football though, and for every Zola there’s a Zidane. I like to win, and
when it comes to a sport where everyone was thiiiiiis close to making it (in
real life), compensating for the cruelness of fate by quantifiably
demonstrating better knowledge than your mates feels good. Anyone can pick 11
or 15 players, but balancing the books whilst keeping ahead of other players can
call for serious weekly (or even daily) time investments. You gotta look at
fixtures and formations, who’s got history against a certain club and who might
be rested for that mid-week tie in a different competition, who have your
rivals got and who might be the key differential…
Good
players get snapped up quickly, and if everyone’s team is the same then there’s
no room for competitive mobility. Football players are essentially stock and to
do well in the markets you have to take risks on potential risers: how long do
you hold-on to a rising balloon and all that. (Just me with that metaphor?
Moving on…) Taking fantasy football seriously is free betting, cash leagues notwithstanding,
where time invested can return social prestige. Flashy part-timers will fill
their team with poomp alongside their Hazards and Van Persies, but these teams can
(in theory) be trumped by low-key squad- players, chosen after meticulous
research based on their dead-ball responsibilities or clean sheet potential.
And let me tell you, it feels good to beat weekend rock stars who think that (metaphorical)
cream suits and Armani shades are more important than unglamorous graft on every
weeknight. (It doesn't feel so good if you spend ages picking a team that doesn't perform and are overtaken by a team clearly untouched for weeks but with a
decent captain’s selection. The hardest thing sometimes is recognizing when to
leave things as they are. These are the facts, isn't that right Rafa?)
This
attitude is undoubtedly a reason why escapism through fantasy football has, or
could develop, a stigma: when people take it too seriously and deride others
for a lack of skills or investment it’s going to become marginalized and
participants will be viewed as socially-inept outcasts. A guy that I used to work
with refused to succumb to mine and my manager’s pressures to get involved,
saying that he didn't want to prop up our egos by propping up our table, or be
ripped for incompetence in something he doesn't give a shit about. Fair enough.
But
ultimately playing fantasy football is not going have any lasting effects on
someone’s personality, and despite the name ‘fantasy’, is in no way pernicious.
It’s not going to make an Islamophobe open-minded because Demba Ba gets loads
of points and thanks Allah when he scores, just like a sensitive kid isn't going to develop pathological symptoms by playing FPSs. Escapism and the ways in
which people pursue it can tell you a lot about someone - including their flaws
(i.e. my own competitiveness and borderline OCD) - but these flaws are not caused
by the choice of escape-route. If somebody takes inordinate pleasure in
demonstrating their fantasy football prowess, ask them how other
performance-related parts of their lives are going. (Braw, thanks for asking.)
Moving
on from the George Smiley shit, playing fantasy football simply makes watching
real games more interesting. As non-fans across the world will tell you “football
is always [expletive-optional] on” and having a vested interest in teams other
than your own and their rivals increases this. Fantasy leagues give meaning to
Wigan vs. Norwich on a Tuesday in February, and while it won’t improve the
quality on the pitch, it gives viewers something to get excited about if Grant
Holt or Shaun Maloney bagging gives you those extra points needed to move above
your nemesis. It also means that non-invested football fans can cheer and groan
without permanent alignment, and therefore more people watch the game and the fan
community grows.
Of
course, the downside of this is that further momentum is added to the corporatisation
and relentless advertising machine that has changed football forever in recent
years. There’s a (perhaps naïve) hope however, that the more people watch it,
the more accountability will be called for. Already BT are challenging Sky’s
monopoly, and despite the former’s diabolical customer service (cutting my
subscription on the day of Champions’ League Final for example, and forcing me
to spend the evening with staunch kids’ TV favourites Adrian Chiles and Gareth Southgate) I have seen better value for money in the last few years since I
switched to them.
Whether
the distance fantasy football puts between you and the team you support is entirely
positive however, is up for debate. In my first season three years ago, I had
Drogba (over Rooney) as my main man upfront. He was ‘doubtful’ for the opening
game but as a rookie I didn't see any reason not to captain him. When I found
out that he’d scored a hat-trick I remember celebrating, before glancing guilty
around and coughing it off. It just doesn't feel right to cheer a rival’s
success; and this was pre-Mansour, when Chelsea were a ruthless juggernaut and
the Drog was their Trojan candiru (you’d think he was harmlessly flapping
around before he hit you hard where it hurt the most). Like betting when your
team is playing, it’s a delicate balancing act: hedging your bets and ensuring
that if your side wins, your fantasy team doesn't benefit can numb the victory
somewhat; but loyalty’s an inadequate anesthetic if you want to forget about
your side losing in real life, and you’re faced with the double whammy of a poor
points haul yourself and a bumper harvest for your rivals.
Some
of you won’t understand how anyone can get upset about football full-stop,
whilst others won’t understand why Chelsea or City not performing is
something that I get mardy about (as long as United win what else matters?).
Ultimately both views are sound, but if you invest time in anything, perceived
failure and success can influence your mood, irrespective of how irrelevant
they appear to be. People get stressed about gardening, crockery getting broken
and scripted fictional characters’ love lives. If you don’t understand why
someone has an emotional attachment to something, or why a certain thing in
particular sets them off, empathize. I am aware that my fantasy team’s success
is ultimately irrelevant but if I’m not annoyed when they fail, how can I be
happy when the succeed? Vive et vivas ‘n that.
Fantasy
football, much like conventional sports betting, can open your eyes to new
aspects of players’ performance. No one can understand quite how ridiculous
Theo Walcott’s demand to play centre forward is unless they've had money on him
to score, or put him in their fantasy team and watched as he meticulously
refuses to take up any passably dangerous positions in the box, preferring
instead to hover in the peripheries failing to deliver (a bit like the FIFA/UEFA
stance on racism). Dembélé’s evolution (when
fit) from an attacking midfielder to a deep-lying player maker can be traced by
scouts wondering if he represents good value in the Spurs midfield; Fellaini filling
the Timmiii role has not exactly been subtle (nothing about Marouane is really)
but fantasy football fans traced it happening since week one against United, and
may also have noted how Anichibe has been played there in the Belgium’s
absence. It is possible to juxtapose teams who play a system into which players
are expected to fit (Everton and West Brom), with those who mix and match
according to personnel (United’s midfield or City’s defense for example).
Clearly
you don’t need to play fantasy football to notice these things: despite certain
public perceptions, fans are incredibly attuned to such tactical nuances and
pundits are supposed to make a living from filling in those less enlightened.
It’s always nice to work things out for yourself though, and as far as pundits
go, unless your name is Gary Neville you’re probably talking shite (especially you melted Cogsworth[1]). There’s clearly a
difference between a good fantasy player and a good real-life one: Jon Walters
hauled in hella points last year whilst with Scottie Parker you were lucky to
break even given the amount of bookings. I know which one I’d rather have at my
club though (and not because of the epic comb-over or amazing pirouettes).
There
are plenty of people out there who watch, enjoy and talk about football purely
based on the action, follow ‘smaller’ teams as avidly as bigger ones, and have
hundreds of players on their radars, not just those up for the golden boot
and/or goal of the season. These are the kind of people I want to talk to, and
playing fantasy football encourages this expansive and broadly open-minded approach.
Of course a line needs to be drawn between reality and fantasy, but the kind of
people who are savvy enough to be good at fantasy football will be able to make this distinction – Winston Reid is the third
highest-scoring defender in the Premier League’s platform, but is quite clearly
not the third best defender in the Premier League.
If
you think it’s sad to spend time and energy devoted to a simulation instead of
dealing with the real world, then rationalize vociferously ogling 11
millionaire-tradesmen whilst ignoring another 11 millionaire-tradesmen’s skills,
abusing them in any and every way possible and paying £60-odd for the pleasure,
with all proceeds going towards funding nefarious billionaires’ ‘business’
(read: vanity) projects. Imagine subscribing to an hourly soap opera where
monopoly money is paid to racists, philanders, assaulters and rapists, and the
punishment they receive (or more often than not, avoid) is based on their
social, economic and professional position. Imagine! Sounds like Dylan songs from
the mid-sixties.
Fantasy
football is immediately located in cyberspace and because of this it can
sometimes get a bad rep. But its inspiration ultimately comes from the pitch,
and its affects are very much felt on other (more bobbly) pitches, in pubs, and
generally throughout real life. It’s a game where identifying and admiring
skill is paramount, irrespective of where a player comes from or what team he
plays for (maybe in the future it’ll even be which team they play for).
I
love football, but all too often the game is secondary: torn between addressing
real, hard-hitting social problems and the sheer volume of bewildering
sideshows, most more fanciful than fiction, fans can easily get swept along
with the toxic tides. Fantasy football shifts focus back to the basics: 22
players, two goals and one ball. Is it really that hard to just enjoy a match? Is
it still escapism if the fantasy world seems more tangible than the real one?
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