WHEN it comes to Toyota AFL Dream Team, there are really two types of coaches: those that accumulate points and those that accumulate scalps.
Sure, getting a great ranking is one thing. It's always nice to finish in the top 500 and tell your 12-year-old cousin to get stuffed. But where's the joy in success without someone else's failure? Where's the thrill in winning without making someone else lose? No, if you really want to get fired up about Dream Team, you've got to play League.
My team's called the Mayors and we're not about personal growth. We're not about beating the clock or settings PBs. The Mayors exist for one reason and one reason only - smashing our friends and smashing them good.
When the Mayors run in a goal, we don't just dribble it over the line and celebrate quietly. We tear in, roost it 30 rows back, and then scream in our opponent's face until they punch us in the mouth. The Mayors are a great side, but they're not a popular one.
My friends and I have been playing fantasy football since 1996 and formed the CFL five years ago. There might be older leagues out there. There might be better leagues and certainly many with more depth (last year, for example, one of my best friends managed to trade in Gary Ablett while injured, Peter Burgoyne while suspended and Joel Bowden 10 minutes before he retired). But I seriously doubt there are any leagues out there that take themselves more seriously.
If you really want to scare yourself; if you want to see where Dream Team obsession can lead; take a look at this: www.CFLDreamteam.com
I created the CFL website three years ago just for me and 15 mates. I added team shields, team jumpers, team songs, team stats, trophies, odds, predictions, histories, and a whole bunch of other crap while I should have been doing work.
Was it worth it? No. Was it an effective use of my time? Not really. Does my girlfriend think it's a complete joke? Absolutely. Do I care? Not at all!
For me, all that matters is the Mayors and premiership glory. We tasted it 2009 and I don't think I've been happier. Not only did we win, but our arch-rivals, the Stangers, didn't even make the finals. They put it down to bad luck, but who the hell trades in John Meesen?
Stanger
The Stangers' 1-5 record against the Mayor suggests he has our measure, and yet CFL rules prohibit me explicitly saying so. Mozzing, you see, is one of the great sins in our league. There's nothing more annoying than what we call "the concession" which is a whiney 10pm Saturday night phone call from the trailing coach which goes, "Bloody hell. Why are the gods that control heaven and earth and Dean Cox's soft tissues against me? We are finished. There's no way we can win."
During round seven last year, after a Saturday night session of drinking and Dreamteaming, I made just such a call to the Mayor's message bank. Little did I know that the next morning Shaun Higgins would be a late withdrawal and emergency Taylor Walker's inexplicable 115 would be counting for the Stangers. Suddenly, it was game on, and there was an icy chill between me and my fiercest rival.
Eventually, the Mayor prevailed by 23 points. It was a just result - dirty mid-game conceders should never prosper - but the loss to meant the Mustangs slumped to a 0-4 start. Our premiership defence was in tatters. It never recovered as we slid to tenth on the CFL beanstalk. Who do I blame? Almost everyone but myself. Troy Simmonds' form, Richo's hammy, Bradd Dalziell's knee, which surely just buckled under the weight of the second 'd' in his given name.
But the Maribyrnong Mustangs FC is a proud club and I think we can bounce back in 2010. Until last year, we were a power in the CFL, with success built on the fact that the coaching staff (of one) gave up thinking about anything else from March to August. This year, we are putting our faith in Andrejs Everitt. The silent' d' in Bradd Dalziell did us know favours. Maybe we'll have more luck with a silent 'j'.
This year, the Mayor and I will be taking our rivalry public and, hopefully, sharing our league triumphs and tribulations with coaches who begin the year dreaming about those 'three days in August' (round 22). The Mayor's office is only five metres from mine, and for all the mock trash talk, we have hundreds of hours of joyful Dreamteam analysis each year. There was even a time towards the end of last year when I thought he "deserved" to break his flag hoodoo, just because he's put so much into our league. And yet now he's crowing on the CFL website and inviting us to attend his flag unfurling. You're nobody's second side, Mayor, least of all mine.
Although you were the best man at my wedding.
The views expressed in this article are those of the authors and not necessarily of the AFL
