By Nate Wilson-Traisman

There was once a time when I enjoyed Sundays. I used to find solace in sleeping in, eating breakfast and spending my day watching football. It was a routine engrained in me since childhood. Regardless of how much homework I had or who was playing, I almost always took time out of my day to watch at the very least one NFL game. Oh, how I used to enjoy Sundays. Then came fantasy football. It used to be just a hobby. A little something to spice up those Sundays spent on the couch. A little more incentive to watch those meaningless mid-November local Fox games that no one outside of Minnesota gives a damn about. It used to be a hobby.

Well, let me tell you something. If my masterful use of repetition hasn’t already told you, fantasy is no longer just a hobby. Meaningless games no longer exist.

I have a problem. Fantasy football controls my life.

People hate watching football with me now. My mood on Sundays is less stable than the stock market. I actually root for my opponent’s players to injure themselves (nothing too serious, maybe just a pulled muscle. I’m not that cold hearted). I no longer root for teams, I root for players. The Bears are still my favorite team, but Drew Brees, my QB, has replaced the Seahawks as my second favorite. One might argue that Drew Brees is not a team. I beg to differ.

Still don’t think I have a problem?

Fantasy’s effect on my life has transcended past Sundays and taken a hold of my entire week. It’s Tuesday as a write this, and my week is already ruined. I put up a measly 75 points this week against my league’s last place team. 75. I can already tell you that nothing could happen this week to make me forget that. I hate fantasy.

You still don’t understand, do you? Why would I partake in something that brings me so much pain? I’ve been asking myself that for years. Every year I tell myself things will change. This year I only registered for two teams, a significant drop from last year’s 4. Surprisingly, I still waste the same amount of time each week on Yahoo Fantasy Sports, my Sunday’s are equally volatile, and my weekly moods still ride on the arm of Drew Brees, the hands of Plaxico Burress and the legs of Marion Barber III.

Good thing the NFL season is over in January, because with fantasy baseball registration starting in March, that one-month break will be much needed.