The Football Fan's Manifesto Part 3

Tailgating, as activities that involve alcohol usually do, has transformed into something of a subculture. There are those who travel the country only to experience the different tailgate scenes at any number of NFL and college football stadia or NASCAR tracks. Certainly these people cannot be blamed for embracing the boozier aspects of the fan experience, but many of them don't attend the events these tailgates surround and have no interest in their outcomes. Which is bizarre and borderline parasitic.

Beware these tailgating scenesters. Though they attempt to earn your trust with an array of interesting recipes and odd novelty gadgets that have no application outside a tailgate, they are roving partiers and nothing more. Instead of talking about the game, arguing about the game, or even letting you know what kind of vested fantasy interests they have in the players involved, they want to gush about how tailgating is the last great bastion of community or some such nonsense. And that s.h.i.+t sucks out loud. If you want a false sense of togetherness with your intoxication, go to G.o.dd.a.m.n Burning Man.

A man named Joe Cahn has garnered national attention for claiming the mantle of the Commissioner of Tailgating, which is a bit like bearing the t.i.tle Picnicmaster General. Cahn, who maintains a Web site that promotes tailgating culture and claims to be the world's only professional tailgater, has visited hundreds of stadia and sports complexes and partied with thousands of revelers. While tailgating is a fine slice of Americana and we're glad someone is out there doc.u.menting its regional variations with the painstaking diligence of an ethnomusicologist, we generally want to be around people who are into the game. Granted foodies and lushes can come in handy by improving the quality of the meats and liquor you stuff your face with, but the last thing anyone wants is some windbag blubbering about the sense of kins.h.i.+p he feels with his common man while you're trying to make a critical beer pong shot. Don't get all whimsical on me while I'm trying to get a buzz going.

V.4. B TAILGATING GRUB: MEAT, MEAT, MORE MEAT, WASH DOWN WITH BEER, REPEAT WITH MEAT.

Not ingesting your weight in nitrates at the tailgate? That's a monstrous failure on your part. And not the heart failure that you should be encouraging. The staple of any tailgate is the fatty amalgam of wings, sausage, bacon, brats, beef patties, and any other a.s.sorted heart-clogging chunks of fatty flesh. There are those who clamor for vegetarian alternatives at the tailgate. There's no need to impose tofu dogs on those who don't consume them, so bring and cook your own veggie s.h.i.+t on the grill. And when you're dealing in things like wings, the less cutesy you get, the better. The buffalo wing is always a standard. Supplementing it with some fancy-dancy garlic parmesan or spicy Asian wings is well and good for the sake of variety, but these should by no means supplant the buffalo ones.

Most any combination of tasty meats and boozy drinks will serve you well when pregaming, though the fan should be encouraging to dabble in some of the expert creations the wild minds of expert tailgating are apt to create. A recent runaway phenomenon in tailgating circles is a dish known as Bacon Explosion, which combines two pounds of bacon and two pounds of sausage into one delectable artery-exploding log. Get someone to whip this up for your crew and you'll be set for a day. Provided there's enough refreshment to keep you tanked from arrival to the stadium walk-up.

V.5 Get Pumped for Victory in the Game You're Not Playing This is football. It's no time for easy listening. You can play it mellow when gorging through the tailgate in hour one, but as kickoff approaches, you've got to get ready to spit hot fire. That means no techno, screamo, emo, jazz, cla.s.sical, calypso, world music, ska, house, reggae, reggaeton, backpacker rap, pop punk, indie rock, or any of the other twee s.h.i.+t you'll hear on a Sufjan Stevens or a Belle and Sebastian alb.u.m.

It's time for some auditory abuse that will knock you on your a.s.s and take an asparagus-scented p.i.s.s in your face. Having listened to these tracks, you'll be ready to dropkick an opposing linebacker 20 yards downfield.

Let's not confuse these with the raft of tracks that blare out of the stadium sound system. "Crazy Train" by Ozzy, AC/DC tracks, or "Rock and Roll Part Two": these are far too commonplace to make it to your unique motivational playlist. Can't have others horning in on that. You need to know that you're not getting fed the same call to arms as every other schlub out there. Yours is singularly vicious. So here goes.

"Ante Up," M.O.P.-Consider this a check of your pulse. Not moving after this song means rigor mortis has set in and you belong deep, deep underground. Necrophiles patrol tailgates just to see who isn't responding to this track."Enter Sandman," Metallica-A sports pregame standby, but a cla.s.sic for a reason. Granted, Metallica has largely been a pailful of suck for the better part of fifteen years, but this one maintains its motivational oomph, meaning it'll make you take a long jump between rooftops."Self Defense," Dilated Peoples-A song with a refrain that goes "You wanna hit us? We can hit back" and lyrics that include the reminder that "the best offense is a good defense" is clearly of relevance to a football crowd, even if what they're hitting each other with are gusts of flatus."What's My Name," DMX-Fiery and profane, and hence everything a fan can want in a song. What's more, Russell Simmons's doglike growls will make you feel like you're coming out of the tunnel with Joey Porter's pit bulls."Rise Above," Black Flag-Appropriating the fury of a song aimed at the conformist elements of society and then channeling it into emotional energy for a sports contest is what fans do best. Who cares what message anyone is trying to send out? The emotion is the point. And all the angry lyrics can be made to fit in a football context with enough booze."Protect Ya Neck," Wu-Tang Clan-More a helpful suggestion than a motivational tune. Maybe you can wear a Bryan c.o.xlike stiff neck collar under your uniform."Above the Clouds," Gang Starr-Among the pulsating tracks of venom, something a little more contemplative is in order. Lest you think that will make you go soft, Inspectah Deck's verse coupled with the Asiatic beats will make you want to lop enemy appendages off with Hitori Hanzo steel.The last minute of Radiohead's "Electioneering" and the last two minutes of Guns N' Roses' "Paradise City"-Otherwise calm songs erupt in cacophonous mania, which is a perfect soundtrack to the anarchy you want to spill out into your gameday experience. These are great stretches of music to swing an unearthed security bollard to."Bodies," Drowning Pool-Are you a meathead in search of lifeless corpses falling to the ground with a thudding intensity? Then this might be just the kind of barking metal song you're looking for. Don't worry if you don't know any of the lyrics beyond "LET THE BODIEs. .h.i.t THE FLO'!!" No one else does either."Lose Yourself," Eminem-Positively ubiquitous in the first few months following its release in 2002, this throbbing army march is enough to make you believe you're a desperate, dest.i.tute man fighting for his life, rather than a guy dropping thousands of dollars on season tickets."Play," David Banner-Not much point in an event teeming with pleas for ritualistic violence without a celebration of violent s.e.xual encounters. If nearby women object, swear that the line "catch it in your mouth like your last name Moss" made you believe the song was about football."Bombs over Baghdad," Outkast-Because it's a catchy, energetic Outkast song that isn't "Hey Ya!" That alone will suffice."The Champ," Ghostface Killah-Clever lyricism is never more palatable to the football fan (especially the white one) than when it's packaged in a swaggering paean to kicking a.s.s."Guerilla Radio," Rage Against the Machine-Need that final rush to get you ready to charge into the stadium and take the concession guy by the b.a.l.l.s? Look no further. The final part of the song begins with a whispery Zack de la Rocha intoning, "It has to start somewhere. It has to start sometime. What better place than here? What better time than now?" f.u.c.k and yes.

V.6 The High Five Is an Intricate Art Not to Be Toyed With The purest expression of football fan exultation, save perhaps a belligerent flipping of the bird to an opposing fan, is the high five. It is a maneuver steeped in tradition, reeking of valor, and one that should not be overused or executed improperly. For any gesture so laden with import, some simple guidelines must be adhered to at all times. It may seem like a casual thing, this smacking of palms, but violate one of the hard-and-fast rules and the consequences could be dire.

Timing, as is often the case, is everything. Note that acceptable high-five-able scenarios are as follows: When your favorite team scores a touchdown or gets a pivotal third-down stop.

When a fellow fan recounts how he hooked up with a girl from the bar (bonus five if she roots for your team).

When someone on your fantasy team gets a big gain or a score and another person nearby is also starting that player. (Presumably you've let everyone within ear-shot know which players you're starting in any given week.) The five is rescinded if that player is going against your favorite team. Why are you starting him, anyway?

Field goals and sacks, while not always sufficient to produce a high five, can be determined acceptable on a case-by-case basis. A game-winning field goal? Go for it. Settling for a field goal when down by two touchdowns? Not so much.

When fiving in a bar or stadium, engaging in one five necessitates that you do the same for all adjacent fans of your team. It's like a toast in that sense. Leaving someone hanging is extremely poor form and will likely leave you subject to a similar snubbing following the next score. Given the sensitivity of Seahawks fans, this might draw tears.

An opposing fan may be issued a five if it is done as a means of distraction while a fellow fan ties his shoes together or steals his wallet.

The Cla.s.sic Room for variation exists within the high-five family, but tread carefully. The Cla.s.sic involves throwing your arm forward at a near forty-five-degree angle with the palm facing forward. This is the vintage, more exuberant high high five. A bit campy, but undeniably infectious. The Variation is the more greeting-friendly five. A bit campy, but undeniably infectious. The Variation is the more greeting-friendly regular regular five, which involves one person, the fivee, placing his palm supine and the other, the fiver, slapping his palm downward onto the waiting hand of the fivee. This is the more informal maneuver, and its distinction from the high five mirrors the difference between a hug and a handshake. Except fans are judged more harshly for their fives than regular folk are for their handshakes. Firm handshake but awkward five? Very questionable. five, which involves one person, the fivee, placing his palm supine and the other, the fiver, slapping his palm downward onto the waiting hand of the fivee. This is the more informal maneuver, and its distinction from the high five mirrors the difference between a hug and a handshake. Except fans are judged more harshly for their fives than regular folk are for their handshakes. Firm handshake but awkward five? Very questionable.

You must actually make full contact with your co-fiver's hand. You wouldn't believe how many people botch this one. A glancing blow off the other person's hand is just as awkward as a full miss. Like horseshoes, hand grenades, and hand jobs, there is no almost in high fives. And alcohol is no excuse for failed hand-eye coordination. The government would be well advised to add a high-five exam on the driving test. Young, drunk, and face-palmed is no way to go through life.

This is about as extravagant as you can get if you're a white guy. Black people may press the flesh further. White guys, you may observe them in awe, but by no means should you attempt to imitate them. They know what they're doing. You do not.

The Fist b.u.mp and Fist Pound The fist b.u.mp and fist pound are slightly less orthodox, but perfectly acceptable subst.i.tutes for the high five. However, they should be used only in conjunction with the high five, in the way ranch dip is used to complement wings. A person who employs the fist b.u.mp alone is not only limiting himself as a fan, but possibly stepping into danger's path by constantly proffering his fist in strangers' faces. When those people are drunk, the potential for trouble reaches Pacman-in-Vegas levels.

The Chest b.u.mp and a.s.s b.u.mp The chest b.u.mp and the more dreaded a.s.s b.u.mp should only be executed with a strong sense of irony and ideally with someone of the opposite gender. Tailgating would be the best time to pull off such a move, if at all. Make sure everyone in the vicinity has tied a few on and is ready to laugh at wacky, borderline uncomfortable hijinks. With the mood is relaxed, you're less likely to have objects hurled your way. Remember, that's less likely, not entirely unlikely.

V.7 Like All Extreme Sports, Running onto the Playing Field Is Dumb and Wrong-and Irresistible Sinister forces of temptation goad you toward the forbidden. Alcohol has done its part to convince you that it is doable. From your close-in seat in the fifth row, all that separates you from the stomping grounds of your beloved gladiators is a quick plunge over the wall and the swarming gauntlet of a couple dozen security guards and police officers. Nothing you can't handle. It's a scenario you've been turning over in your head for years, but you never thought you'd find yourself in a mindset to act on it. If you can just bob and weave enough, make a few guys miss, you can be on the field long enough to steal a cheerleader grope or maybe even slap the smug clear off Jack Del Rio's a.s.sface. After that, who knows, the means for a daring escape should present itself. You can think on your feet.

But, wait, you've seen this before. All those arm-flailing f.u.c.ktards on SportsCenter SportsCenter reels and YouTube clips scurrying on the field for a few fleeting moments before getting ingloriously force-fed some turf by security. Nah. You're better than them. They looked so...so loutish. You're above all that, someone who can sprinkle Gallicisms in your inner monologues, far above such gutter exploits and...and you've already gone, haven't you? It sucks being a drunk person's conscience. Always being on a five-second delay, like a network television live broadcast. Instead of filtering out swearing, it keeps out reason. reels and YouTube clips scurrying on the field for a few fleeting moments before getting ingloriously force-fed some turf by security. Nah. You're better than them. They looked so...so loutish. You're above all that, someone who can sprinkle Gallicisms in your inner monologues, far above such gutter exploits and...and you've already gone, haven't you? It sucks being a drunk person's conscience. Always being on a five-second delay, like a network television live broadcast. Instead of filtering out swearing, it keeps out reason.

Streaking is not advocated, mostly because you're almost certainly going to get gang tackled by mouthbreathing rent-a-cops, arrested, and banned from the stadium for life, in the process making a public jacka.s.s of yourself and your family.

Finding yourself unable to quell the demons that compel you to rush the field? At least try to keep them at bay until an opportune moment. Or get some cash out of the deal. At the very least, only make an attempt if you know you're slippery enough to evade capture for a solid minute or so. Nothing is quite as sad as someone who wastes his one big chance at public jacka.s.sery with the epic failure of immediate apprehension. If you do, despite all the logical reasons that say you shouldn't, decide to take a shot, here are some sound suggestions: Get an unscrupulous company to sponsor you.-That's what serial streaker Mark Roberts did when he ran out onto the field during Super Bowl x.x.xVIII. Hopping a knee-high barrier at Reliant Stadium, he stripped down to a G-string and shoes with a plug for gambling site GoldenPalace.com scrawled on his chest. For this, he got slapped with a $1,000 fine yet avoided any jail time. And that was during the motherf.u.c.king Super Bowl. That's like calling in a bomb threat to the White House and getting a point on your driver's license. The terms of the sponsors.h.i.+p were never disclosed, but even if it was a financial wash, he got to streak during the Super Bowl with little or no consequence. That's more than a little awesome.

If you're going naked, be sure to wave your junk at the opposing team.-It'll not only a.s.sert dominance, but remind them of the days when Charles Haley was in the league.

If you're a woman and going naked, be sure to wave your junk at the camera.-It's just common courtesy. Unless you're a Packers fan. Then please disregard. And put on four more layers.

Have a sympathetic angle ready.-In 2005, a forty-four-year-old man ran onto the field in Philadelphia holding a plastic bag emitting a cloud of dust from his outstretched arm before dropping to his knees on the 30-yard line and making the sign of the cross. Was he trying to be the next Johnny Anthraxseed? Nope. Turns out he was spreading the ashes of his recently deceased mother, who was an avid Eagles fan. Sure, it didn't stop kneejerk security storm troopers from detaining him, but you bet your beer-battered a.s.s it inspired some clemency.

Remember that the players have bottled-up fan animosity.-It can't be stressed too much that the yellow-jacketed Gestapo are not your only obstacles during your jaunts onto the playing field. The players themselves will be all too happy to a.s.sist in your undoing. It's not that they're upset to have a stoppage in play. Most of them are probably exhausted and glad to have the brief respite. However, after years of having to hold back from las.h.i.+ng out at fans in the face of intense personal criticism on things beyond viewers' comprehension, the chance to clothesline a fan with impunity is an opportunity a player cannot soon pa.s.s up. So resist the urge to pat a linebacker on the shoulder lest you feel like getting speared in the ribs.

Disrupt the game (but only if it helps your team).-In October 2005, a fan in Cincinnati rushed the field in the final minute of a Bengals-Packers game, s.n.a.t.c.hing the ball from then-Packers QB Brett Favre and causing the play to be blown dead. At the time, the Packers were trailing 21-14 and trying to drive for a tying score, with the ball inside Bengals' territory. The five-minute break the incident caused allowed the Bengals' winded defense to regroup. Favre was then sacked on the following play, which contributed heavily to sealing the win for Cincy. As you can see, it's the opportunistic and savvy disruptive fan who wins the day. That he ends up getting buried alive hours later by guys who put money on the game is another matter entirely.

V.8 The Challenge of the Superfans In the annals of rabid fandom, only a privileged few have reached the lofty heights of the superfan, where the standard-issue fanatic transcends the mundane acts of regular cheering and becomes something more. The superfan can come off as a deranged soul possessed with the flair of a Broadway costume designer. To those who know better, they are lovably intense folks you're happy to have on your side. Superfans are held in such esteem among those in their own fan base that they, in effect, become synonymous with the franchise itself. Granted, the privilege of being one earns a whole lot of bubkes. In fact, the effort necessary to be recognized as a superfan will set you back a pretty penny, nevertheless you'll be paid back tenfold with the admiration of hordes of drunk people.

No sporting league honors its most frighteningly faithful quite like the NFL. From 1999 to 2005, Visa sponsored a special display at the Pro Football Hall of Fame called the Hall of Fans. Each year during that span, one fan representing each team was chosen to be added to this pantheon of pathology. After Visa ended its sponsors.h.i.+p, the selection process was shelved, but the display remains. Presumably next to the exhibit of photographs of owners bathing in money reaped from charging outrageous amounts for personal seat licenses.

It's just as well that the annual inductions ended. Most teams are fortunate if they have one iconic fan, let alone six or more. h.e.l.l, the Cardinals organization is thrilled if their stadium is less than 60 percent road fans. Also, letting in thirty-some-odd candidates a year dilutes the honor considerably. If anything, it should be conducted like the selection process for the regular Hall of Fame, where there are at most a handful of entrants each year and they are voted on by putatively objective writers who let petty grudges and arbitrary factors decide who should and shouldn't get in. That seems to work okay.

Superfan status can't be attained overnight. It takes years of painstaking gimmick-honing and camera-mugging. There's no hope for cheapskates, either. You have to be front and center for the networks to pick you up on crowd shots. Every game too. That means season tickets in the front row, no less. Simply follow the example of these fans who have carved out a place for themselves in football fandom lore.

Chief Zee-Zema Williams, a fixture at Redskins games for more than three decades, wears a full head-dress and carries a twelve-inch tomahawk with him to games at the unbearable FedEx Field. He's earned his war paint too. In a 1983 visit to Veterans Stadium in Philly, Chief Zee had his leg broken and his costume torn by murderous Eagles fans. And yet, he was not pelted with a single battery. I'd say he got off easy by Eagles fan standards. The Redskins, of course, can also boast the rooting presence of a troop of twelve cross-dressing pig fans known as the Hogettes. But they don't appear in Eastern Motors commercials.Fireman Ed-Ed Anzalone is believed by some to be the originator of the Jets' signature "J-E-T-S, JETS, JETS, JETS" chant. This immediately negates any heroism cred he may have acc.u.mulated as a member of the New York City fire department.Catman-The six-four, 340-pound Greg Good attends every home game at Bank of America Stadium sporting a giant blue shock of hair, a cape, and two oversized blue Incredible Hulksized fists. Now, when you refer to the Panthers colors, you have to say Carolina blue, because the state is annoying enough to try to lay claim to a shade of a color.Birdman-Not to be confused with Harvey Birdman, Joseph Ripley sticks with the obvious animal theme in his fandom foolery, much like NFC rival Catman. Birdman wears a beak underneath his face mask-less helmet, along with a rather aerodynamic cape. Using his power of flight, he can change up the usual Eagles fan approach by dropping nine volts on you from above.Barrel Man-Proof positive that your superfan gimmick need not have anything to do with the team name itself, Tim McKernan spent thirty years in the service for his beloved Broncos, looking like a hobo in the stands at Mile High Stadium and even getting a Super Bowl ring from the team in 1998. In 2007, he finally hung up his barrel. Hopefully he had something on underneath.The Packalope-A play on the mystical jackalope, a cross between a jackrabbit and an antelope, the Packalope, Larry Primeau, wears a throwback Packers helmet with a ten-point deer rack attached. Citing a new policy on banned weapons, Lambeau Field officials have prohibited Primeau from wearing his antlers inside the stadium. Yet the foam Cheeseheads remain. Their ability to poke your eyes out may not be as strong, but they are the key obstacle in the war against tacky.Mr. and Mrs. Seahawk-Notable wigged spousal members of the 12th Man, which is the oh-so-novel name the Seahawks fan base attaches to itself. Indeed, the happy couple was instrumental in helping to steal the name from Texas A&M.Bill Swerski-Sticklers for facts will point out that Swerski and his band of Bears superfans are not, in fact, real, but since when does reality have anything to do with football fandom? The Sat.u.r.day Night Live Sat.u.r.day Night Live caricature of sports fanaticism has done more to shape the archetype of crazed fan behavior than booze and bachelorhood combined. caricature of sports fanaticism has done more to shape the archetype of crazed fan behavior than booze and bachelorhood combined.The Bone Lady-While there are any number of recognizable fans in Cleveland's infamous Dawg Pound, including Big Dawg and Dawg Pound Mike, none of them are as chesty as the Bone Lady. Debra Darnell transforms herself into this near-superhuman figure for Browns games, replete with accessory laden beehive and cat gla.s.ses. The Bone Lady rides around in her tricked-out Bone Mobile, a Volvo station wagon that she has suffused in team memorabilia and to the roof of which she has added an eight-foot lighted bone. Quite an effort for an obvious double entendre.Dolfan Denny-Denny Sym began leading Miami crowds in cheers during the Dolphins' first game in 1966. Ten years later, the owner asked him to become the team's official motivator for fifty dollars a game. You know it was a magical time, because that might have actually covered the cost of the ticket he bought to get in. Sym died in March 2007.Crazy Ray-Wilford Jones's charming antics-along with his signature chaps, six-shooter, and blue vest-almost made you forget that Cowboys fans are by and large insufferable f.u.c.kwits. The sports world lost him a day after Dolfan Denny pa.s.sed away.Boltman-Originally hired by the Chargers in 1995 as a mascot, the costumed character later broke with the team to do his own thing. Boltman wears a Chargers uniform over a muscle suit with an almost crescent-shaped bolt head and sungla.s.ses, causing him to bear an amazing resemblance to '80s McDonald's pitch-moon Mac Tonight.Arrowman-Among a crowd of self-decribed superfans in Kansas City that includes First Down Elvis, Red Xtreme, Weirdwolf, XFactor, and Retro Fan, Arrowman dons a jersey and hat of the Chiefs' opponent with an array of gag arrows shot through his head and torso. Because there's no better way to stick it to another team than buying up their merchandise.100 Percent Cheese-Free-A friend to vegans and Packers haters everywhere, Sid Davy is a Vikings fan who lives in Winnipeg and commutes seven hours to each game at the Metrodome, where he dons a costume similar to a Norse version of Hulk Hogan, with purple face paint, chain mail, a Viking helmet, and long, blond ponytails. True to his hulkish image, his biceps rival even those of Ed Hochuli, though he has a ways to go before he rivals Hochuli's ability to blow plays dead prematurely. In 2008, Davy ventured all the way to Ma.s.sachusetts to attend a Patriots-Broncos game so that he could reunite with his favorite player, Randy Moss, who was fond of jumping into Cheese-Free's ma.s.sive arms in the first row of the stands during his days in Minnesota. This despite the fact that Moss stopped playing for the Vikes four years earlier.Darth Raider-A fixture of the Black Hole in Oakland who wears a Darth Vader mask and some Legion of Doomesque spiked shoulder pads. Really frightening until you realize it's Hayden Christensen under the mask.Fan Man-One of those Ravens fans who adores purple camouflage pants, this one at least has the benefit of legacy on his side. Matt Andrews is the nephew of the best-known Baltimore Colts fan, "Willie the Rooter." He converted a 1986 Astro van into the Fan Van by painting it purple, adding Ravens decals, and getting players and coaches to sign it at training camp. Knowing Baltimore, it's held more than a few dead bodies in the back.

V.9 Gamble, Because of Course You're Smarter than Vegas You don't need me to tell you that gambling is the refuge of filthy degenerates, which explains why reasonable football fans gravitate to it so eagerly. Just as fantasy football heightens the importance of individual achievement, gambling ratchets up the significance of team effort, whether that be losing by no more than six points or helping to push the point total of the game above 42, thereby earning you a cool three grand and the chance to see your daughter again.

The NFL maintains an uneasy relations.h.i.+p with gambling. Seemingly every mainstream publication that covers the league prints the lines that Vegas gives on the games each week, as well as providing picks based on those spreads, yet includes the disclaimer that such odds are for recreational purposes only. Which is kind of like when Hollywood puts Jessica Alba in a movie and expects me not to jerk it in the theater. Why the h.e.l.l else would I be there?

The government is no more receptive toward our yearning to wors.h.i.+p at the altar of Gamblor, the six-p.e.n.i.sed polytheistic deity of wagering. Big Government makes it its business to quash every sports gambling opportunity that exists outside of Vegas, just because it's a haven for organized crime, though certainly less of one than the underground structures that form in lieu of a legal betting system. Besides, hating the mafia is sheer lunacy, because there's nothing Americans love more than organized crime, especially when its depicted in movies and TV shows. Just take the word of 49ers fans, all of whom would give their left one to get Eddie DeBartolo and the mob back in the front office.

By falling back on shoddy appeals to morality, the government's stance on gambling makes as much sense as its war on drugs. It's been estimated that the underground sports betting market in the United States hovers around $150 billion. Think of all that potential revenue squandered. It's enough to turn people into libertarians, but then they'd have to agree with insufferably smug Bill Maher.

In fact, Montana, hardly a state known for its tilt toward innovation, has recently inst.i.tuted an NFL-based fantasy football lottery game. Granted, along with Delaware, Nevada, and Oregon, it's one of the four states where sports betting is legal, but this is still a daring step in the right direction. Naturally, the lottery game isn't approved by the NFL, which should signal all the more that it's something people will enjoy. Until legislators come to their senses (which is usually right around the time it becomes politically expedient to do so) football fans will be forced to keep alive hope that their credit card doesn't get rejected by Bodog. The Nanny State and the NFL may tut-tut its existence, but people are going to find ways to gamble, like it or lump it. As for strategies, I'm no Brandon Lang. I don't have the secrets to gambling success, other than that you should always bet against whichever team starts Rex Grossman at QB or has Marvin Lewis patrolling the sidelines. Also, stay away from road favorites in the playoffs. And I'm pretty sure wagering big on your favorite team is a money pit from which you'll never escape. That said, sweeping secrets to gambling success are hard to come by, unless you pull a Biff from Back to the Future Back to the Future and swipe a sports almanac from a far-off year. The one nugget of advice is, don't think you're smarter than Vegas. Down this road of thought lies financial rack and ruin. If a spread looks ridiculous, it's that way for a reason. After all, Vegas was built on compulsive types who thought they were smarter than Vegas. People like Charles Barkley. and swipe a sports almanac from a far-off year. The one nugget of advice is, don't think you're smarter than Vegas. Down this road of thought lies financial rack and ruin. If a spread looks ridiculous, it's that way for a reason. After all, Vegas was built on compulsive types who thought they were smarter than Vegas. People like Charles Barkley.

V.10 Probably Should've Known Before You Bought Those Season Tickets: Watching a Game at Home Is Far Better than the Stadium Experience For better or worse, we've entered a golden age for the couch potato. Gyrate your flabby appendages in celebration and count your blessings, if not the calories. Just as advances in home video technology have ruined much of the draw of heading to the multiplex, so too has the great leap forward in the fan experience for the homebody been brought about by the rise of the Internet and improvements to television broadcast production, which has coincided with how NFL owners have done everything in their power to ruin the live experience.

While seeing the game in a stadium packed to the gills with rabid fans is the purest and most glorious experience in fanhood, one must be prepared to stare down hours of traffic, fight with drunken a.s.sholes, pay impossibly high ticket and concession prices, accept poor sight lines, and endure Russian-breadline-like queues to the bathroom. And that's before you get ejected because someone squealed on you to security for offending them by yelling that T.J. Houshmandzadeh is a rat-tailed queef G.o.ddess.

The dirty secret of fandom is that going to an NFL game can really suck a.s.s sometimes, at least compared with the experience of watching from the comfort of your home or a good sports bar. It seems counterintuitive to those raised believing a seat in the stands beats a seat on the couch, but it's true. And it's doubly so if you're a fan of a team that has decided to dump their stadium out in the middle of an inaccessible sprawly suburban h.e.l.lhole or in New Jersey.

The advent of HDTV and satellite programming packages has made the difference all the more p.r.o.nounced. What you see on your flat screen looks as good, if not better, than what your view would be from a $150 seat in the 500 Level, though seeing ESPN NFL reporter John Clayton in high definition has been known to result in irreparable orbital occlusion. Still, the advantages to home viewing are innumerable. At home, you can gorge on the finest in meats, libations, and Cheez Doodles without an inflated price or fourth-quarter liquor cutoff rules. You can make it to the bathroom during timeouts. You can totally whip it out and jerk it to cheerleaders without being arrested. It's great.

One hitch in the deal is enduring the plat.i.tudinal ramblings of play-by-play announcers. Oh, Eli Manning is actually an ice waterveined field general, is he, Dierdorf? Mike Tomlin's bravado just oozes out of him, does it? Philip Rivers hasn't thrown a misplaced floating pa.s.s in his life? Die. They're enough to make you jab stretched out paper clips into your eardrums. There are a number of potential solutions for negating their brain cramping prowess. For a local game, there's the popular option of muting the TV while listening to the game commentary on the radio. Or one can ignore commentators altogether and watch the game while blasting your favorite music. Unless the dulcet tones of Cris Collinsworth's nasally breakdown of a quarterback hitting the checkdown receiver is like birdsong to your tin ears, in which case you're already fanatically bankrupt.

That isn't to say the live experience doesn't still hold appeal. Certainly nothing at home or at a bar can touch the palpable energy of a packed stadium during a tight game. We as fans would prefer the live experience to the televised one, but given how it's priced beyond our means and that our behavior is being restricted more and more every year, it's becoming increasingly difficult to muster the will to get out to the stadium. At this point, being able to tell people you attended an event is, for many, is about as important as how much fun you have while you're there. For the league, or any entertainer, the benefit of exploiting that basic human need for anecdotes to share with others cannot be understated.

Purists will wheeze the claim that television's rise has always come at the expense of the live game. Not that there's no truth to that. In person, TV timeouts are a frequent but jarring break in the action, in which any fluid pacing of the game is broken up. Meanwhile, the timeouts encompa.s.s too little time to do anything but make small talk with the person next to you in the lovingly constructed full-body bird costume.

Before proponents of other sports start getting all fussy, affirming that this proves the NFL is nothing more than an overblown, plodding spectacle, know that this argument is just as true for their, ahem, games as it is for The One True Sport. With the exception of baseball, of course, which is actually better to watch in person than on television, but that's only by virtue of baseball being so excruciating to watch on TV. Stupid languid baseball broadcast camera. I need frantic cutting and animated dancing robots, not one camera angle from center field. When will you learn?

Owners aren't idiots, of course. All right, Mike Brown is. Some of them may not be able to run a winning franchise, but the policies they set as a collective tend to work out well for them in terms of the whole making-money-hand-over-fist thing. They wouldn't have spent decades bleeding you dry if they weren't good at it, willing though you may be to let them.

Will there ever be a breaking point? Many franchises, even as they hike prices and restrict what you can do, have waiting lists for season tickets measured in years, if not decades. Should the televised experience supplant the live one as the viewing experience of choice for fans, won't that only serve to increase the number of commercial interruptions? Possibly. But then, I envision a breaking point when fans head to luxury boxes with sharp sticks and torches. After that, everything should be alllllll right.

ARTICLE VI.

The Fantasy Football Chapter (Now with Tear-Out Cheat Sheet!)

VI.1 Fantasy Baseball Is for Geeks but Fantasy Football Is for Men In just the span of the last decade, fantasy football has gone from being the dominion of tens of millions socially backward statistics-fixated sports-enthused geeks to a widely celebrated veritable superorgy of man-children.

Because only football is bada.s.sed enough to make a geeky pursuit like rotisserie leagues a phenomenon that has become even quasi-acceptable in mainstream male culture. According to the Fantasy Sports Trade a.s.sociation, more than 80 percent of people who played any fantasy sport played fantasy football. Naturally, they could have played in other sport leagues as well, but, uh, RAWR, FOOTBALL!

In many ways, fantasy has come to shape the rudiments of football fandom and challenge some of our most basic a.s.sumptions about rooting interests. Though no real fan would ever wish for a fantasy football victory if it comes at the expense of a defeat to his real-life team.

But what if it's Week 13 and your real-life team is impossibly out of playoff contention and, if the superstar receiver of the team you're playing that week can just get a touchdown and at least 70 yards, you'll win the money league for the first time ever? Sorry, still got to support the team. Fantasy football, by its very nature, invites you to consider rival players as individuals, as people. And that can simply not be. Rivals are not to be empathized with. That you even have rival players on your fantasy team is a horrible slight to your fellow members of [insert team name] Nation.

Your real life team always takes primacy in all non-gambling matters. It should be noted that there is a small but critical difference between gambling against your team and rooting against them with fantasy in mind. In gambling against your team, you're finding a clever way to recoup money in exchange for your suffering. If it's a big game, you may do it to protect against the huge kick in the nuts that will result if your team loses. It's a small consolation you'll be glad to forfeit if it means you're jinxing the other team.

It's astounding how much fantasy has permeated the entire football experience. Some players in the NFL admit to playing in fantasy leagues. Hot-pants-wearing Redskins tight end Chris Cooley dolefully reported that his three-touchdown performance in a game in December 2005 caused one of his four fantasy teams to be eliminated from playoff contention because his opponent had started Cooley.

Believe it or not, but fantasy football was the first good thing ever to come out of Oakland. Had to be something. In 1962, Raiders co-owner Bill Winkenbach, Raiders PR employee Bill Tunnell, Oakland Tribune Oakland Tribune sportswriter Scotty Sterling, and editor George Ross, trying to entertain themselves during a three-week road trip, formed the first fantasy league. Taking their cue from the long-established baseball rotisserie leagues. They named it the Greater Oakland Professional Pigskin Prognosticators League. Surely this occasion needs to be honored with some sort of federal holiday, preferably one in late August, so people can more easily brush off social and business obligations in favor of holding the draft. This needs to be a national priority. sportswriter Scotty Sterling, and editor George Ross, trying to entertain themselves during a three-week road trip, formed the first fantasy league. Taking their cue from the long-established baseball rotisserie leagues. They named it the Greater Oakland Professional Pigskin Prognosticators League. Surely this occasion needs to be honored with some sort of federal holiday, preferably one in late August, so people can more easily brush off social and business obligations in favor of holding the draft. This needs to be a national priority.

The emergence of the Internet allowed it to take off, as football fans aren't so high on math, and having automated live scoring done by a computer helps take the time commitment issue out of it. That and it puts fantasy sports and p.o.r.n in one handy little package. Thank you, magical Internet box.

Fantasy has become so huge that networks and august sports news publications have hired supposed experts for the sole purpose of discussing the fantasy implications of each NFL game. Of course, this has nothing to do with the studies that show that fantasy players on average buy more tickets to sporting events and spend more money at stadia than do other sports fans.

And why not? Fantasy improves all facets of football. A December game between the Texans and the Rams is an otherwise unwatchable affair between two clubs playing for draft picks. The players don't care. Even their fans don't care. No one cares. That is unless the game has fantasy implications for you. If so, you'll be spending the entire game in rapt attention, you'll formulate at least thirty game scenarios that result in Andre Johnson getting the 21 points you need. Of course, you'll find your head in an oven when he only delivers 20, after he fumbles the ball on his final garbage-time catch with the team already up three scores.

The popularity does not dilute the pa.s.sion that most bring to fantasy football. In fact, all signs indicate the first fantasy-related homicide is near. Last year, a thirty-eight-year-old Florida man held a knife to his roommate's neck and threatened to kill him in a dispute that began over fantasy scoring. Alarmists will decry this, but fantasy-related violence is typically relegated to imagined scenarios where fantasy players exact ghastly revenge against NFL players who performed well during weeks they were benched by their fantasy owners.

VI.2 Know Your Fantasy League or Know Draft Defeat When diving headlong into the choppy waters of fantasy football, it helps to know that the act of drafting is an intricate science. Sure, for the uncommitted, there's always the option of auto-drafting to your heart's content and getting whacked on a weekly basis by every other owner in the league. Whatever works for you. Those who are ready to sack up do their homework. Every league wants a couple patsies to pony up entry money they have no chance of winning back.

Before even deciding on which format to enter into, you should know there's no reason to ever get involved with a public league (unless it carries a mammoth prize, but even then you should supplement it with private leagues). What's the point of fantasy triumph if it's not something you can lord over someone you know? Someone like a friend or a coworker who has no choice but to absorb your vicious taunts with quiet resentment. You simply can't get that satisfaction in a public league. And make a point not to sign up for any league that doesn't offer head-to-head contests. League-wide rotisserie formats are the worst idea a group of people has entered into aside from cuddle parties. Even survivor leagues, where a team need only not be the lowest scoring team in its league to advance from week to week, don't provide a sufficient rush. Fantasy football isn't a war of attrition. It's supposed to mirror the NFL itself by being a series of bitter duels to determine who gets to advance to meaningful bitter duels.

The type of league you join will dictate which type of draft you go through. It's not only the draft that your choice affects; it has other long-term consequences as well, forcing you to select players with an eye toward more than just the immediate future. Matt Millen hates those.

There are generally two types of drafts: the normal kind and the incredibly involved kind that makes you focus on numbers and hurts your thinkin' box in ways that have nothing to do with polluting it with booze.

Standard Draft-The bog standard model, in which you're free to take whoever you'd like in serpentine order without regard to performance beyond the season or how the players' predetermined value factors into your budget. For most casual player, this is the t.i.ts.Auction Draft-But nooooo, there are people who want to make their hobbies as close to having a second job as a GM as humanly possible. In these leagues, dollar amounts are a.s.signed to players as though they were free agents on an imaginary market. You, as a fantasy owner, have to work each draftee into your budget. This concept is usually extended into salary-cap leagues, where the budget must be considered when making trades and acquiring free agents throughout the season. Again, it's possible-there's a faint chance-that you're making too much work for yourself.Standard League-Again, no fuss, no muss. You have the players you drafted, but you can sign or trade for new players solely based on availability and the willingness of your trade partner (or how well you can steal their pa.s.swords and furtively force them to accept a trade).Dynasty Leagues-In a Dynasty League, fantasy owners retain the players they draft from one season to the next, with rookies being the only players drafted with each successive season. So one regrettable draft has the potential to ream you for multiple years instead of mere months. Sounds like a blast.Keeper Leagues-The keeper league operates in much the same manner as a dynasty league, in that players can be retained by the same owner from one season to the next, though it's typically only a handful as opposed to the entire roster, thus giving owners a better chance for unf.u.c.king themselves following poor drafts and critical injuries the year previous.IDP Leagues-For the hard-core fan who can appreciate some defense, IDP leagues are marked by the drafting of individual defensive players in lieu of the entire defense as a unit, which is the norm in most fantasy leagues.Malfeasance Leagues-In general, fantasy football focuses on the positive, though there are so many delectably horrible things in the NFL to celebrate. With the malfeasance league, you can make disgraceful behavior work for you. This league awards points for arrests (one for DUI, two for drug possession, three for drug distribution, four for domestic violence, five for random aggravated a.s.sault, six for murder, seven for deviant s.e.xual acts, etc.) as well as for suspensions and being a clubhouse cancer. Did a player on your team just throw a teammate under the bus to the press? Score a point for you. Until you signed up, you couldn't stand dirty players like Albert Haynesworth or bad apples like Matt Jones. Now they're the best contributors to your lineup.

Okay, okay, this last type of league doesn't technically exist, but it needs to happen. Enterprising fans of the world, let's do this. For the betterment of fankind.

Once settled on a league, the first concern of a draftee is the structure of the team being put together. How many receivers, running backs, and flex players (a slot on the lineup open to either a back, a receiver, or a tight end) are set in your lineup? Next, you have to know the scoring value a.s.signed to each statistic. Are you in a points-per-reception league? If so, are you content salivating over underneath-route-dwelling receivers like Wes Welker? Does the league give points for return yardage on special teams? It does? What kind of bulls.h.i.+t league did you join? How many do you get per pa.s.sing touchdown? How many yards does your quarterback have to throw for you to get a point? Arcane though they may seem, the answers to these questions will go a long way toward determining your drafting board and ultimately the gang of disappointments whose names you will curse until the end of days, or at least the end of the season.

The league commissioner will ultimately make these calls. The job of commissioner is a thankless one in which the poor sap thrust into the role will have to preside over petty complaints of unfair trades, deal with people who are slow to pay their members.h.i.+p fees, and perform the rest of the administrative duties only a type A personality could derive pleasure from. But with great responsibility comes, well, not a whole lot of power. You could abuse your authority to change league rules in your favor, but there's also nothing to stop your league mates from beating you with socks filled with nickels if you do.

VI.3 Naming Your Fantasy Team, or Which Anchorman Reference Shall You Go With?

The naming of your fantasy team is an act of equal, possibly even greater importance than naming your children, and deserves at least as much thought and intoxication to nail down. This may come as a painful realization, but almost certainly your team isn't going to triumph in its league. In addition to loss of pride and countless hours of work, you will also forfeit whatever money you paid to enter your league. You should be prepared for this.

In the face of such excruciating failure, your only hope for saving face, besides blaming the randomness of injuries and shady waiver deals for ruining your otherwise fantastic drafting performance, is the genius of your team name.

There exists but one inviolable rule for fantasy team naming: be funny. This is a tall task for any football fan because, on the whole, football fans are overly serious dips.h.i.+ts.

It's easy. d.i.c.k jokes, fart jokes, t.i.t jokes, fat jokes, movie quotes, fantasy violence, violence, mockery of the poor, epithets both racial and religious, contempt for the wealthy, s.e.xual deviancy, blind anger, focused anger, low-grade h.o.m.ophobia, mild cripplephobia, intense xenophobia, s.e.xism, r.e.t.a.r.ds, and even SIDS can all be funny, given a deft enough touch.

If you happen to be in a league with work colleagues or women, you should probably knock that list down to movie quotes. Also, why the h.e.l.l are you in a league with women?

Ultimately, the greatest challenge for any fantasy team name is braving the test of time. Most often, a name has enough humorous oomph to survive maybe a few weeks of laughs before becoming incredibly tiresome. You must strive for a name that can endure over the course of a season.

Chances are, that timeless resplendent gem of hilarity isn't going to come to you. That's fine. You're just a boring a.s.shole is all. At the very least, you can try to be topical. Beware though. While it may be tempting to riff off the biggest story of the off-season, the key to being funny is being original. And deeply offensive. But mostly original.

For example, remember back in the beginning of the 2007 season after Michael Vick was sent to prison for running a dog-fighting ring? Sure, it was an endless source of laughs. However, every other doucheweasel had a fantasy team name playing on an aspect of that scandal. It was "rape stand" this and "Bad Newz Kennel Club" that. A month into the season and a Michael Vick joke was as tired as "I'm Rick James, b.i.t.c.h." Beware that trap by antic.i.p.ating the longevity of a crude reference. Think long and hard before cursorily submitting Visante s.h.i.+anc.o.c.k for your fantasy team this year. Surely there was some obscure player who got in a hilarious drug bust during the off-season from which you can draw material. The police blotter is the stuff of which great fantasy names are made.

It should be noted that if you are playing in multiple leagues (and if you aren't, why not? Who are you, President Obama? Your time isn't that valuable) you may absolutely not not recycle team names. Not from years past. Not from your teams in other leagues. It's out of the question. recycle team names. Not from years past. Not from your teams in other leagues. It's out of the question.

VI.4 The Fantasy Draft Is the Only Time Being an Unrepentant Homer Doesn't Help Here's when the whole of your strategic genius is brought to bear. Do you start going all homer and scoop up every player possible from your real-life favorite team? It bespeaks hard-core fandom, even if it's a sure-fire recipe for disaster in fantasy. Especially if your real-life team happens to the Lions or the Raiders. Conversely, do you eschew your favorite team entirely, fearing that your fanhood will blind you to players' actual worth, or worse still, that having them on your fantasy team will jinx members of the real-life team irreparably? Both approaches, it should be noted, are incredibly asinine.

Now where to convene to divvy up players like European monarchs divvied up Africa? Weighing the options for the location of your draft will at least enable you to make a mistake from an informed perspective.

THE BAR.

Pro: Reduced chance of wife walking in mid-draft to tell you to watch the kids. Reduced chance of wife walking in mid-draft to tell you to watch the kids.

Con: People in public who aren't predisposed to understand your nerdish leanings judging you as the embarra.s.sing tool you are. People in public who aren't predisposed to understand your nerdish leanings judging you as the embarra.s.sing tool you are.

SOMEONE'S HOUSE Pro: Not having to pony up cash for every drink; chance to geek out without eliciting disdainful looks from attractive women, as there will be none present. Not having to pony up cash for every drink; chance to geek out without eliciting disdainful looks from attractive women, as there will be none present.

Con: The possibility of family members seeing you at your most man-childish. The possibility of family members seeing you at your most man-childish.

INTERNET DRAFT FROM HOME.

Pro: Can m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e to your s.e.xy draft cla.s.s without objection, judgment, or arrest.

Con: The flow and spontaneity of trash-talk is ruined by slow typing. The flow and spontaneity of trash-talk is ruined by slow typing.

COFFEE HOUSE.

Pro: Caffeine is superior to booze as a drug for maintaining steely focus on your fantasy team. Caffeine is superior to booze as a drug for maintaining steely focus on your fantasy team.

Con: Paucity of far tastier booze, abundance of leering quasi-intellectuals who consider football fandom to be only marginally more respectable than pederasty. Paucity of far tastier booze, abundance of leering quasi-intellectuals who consider football fandom to be only marginally more respectable than pederasty.

SAUNA.