Ever find yourself frustrated by Ted Thompson? You have good company, not only with fellow Packer fans, but with fans of every team everywhere. You might as well be general manager of your own team; millions are doing just that. Not that millions of expansion teams have been granted; rather, millions of fake teams, with fake players who are actually real players, with fake champions winning real trophies and prizes. Welcome to the world of fantasy sports.

The concept was mainly established when the original rotisserie baseball folks created mythical teams of major league players on paper in the 1980s, though the Internet expanded interest from sports geeks to casual fans. To participate, you find some buddies or a group on some website, “draft” players before the season begins, then play or bench them based on how well they should perform each game. Do it in your spare time while you’re not doing real work (like refreshing BuzzFeed and glancing at the proposal you oughta read), waive and trade some players, and you will hopefully find yourself at season’s end having won a title of your own. A fantasy title, that is.

Thus came the schizophrenic experience of seeing the Lions throw a deep ball to Calvin Johnson, and simultaneously cheering that my fantasy team would get points while growing upset that the Vikings were in trouble of losing. What was happening to me?I dabbled briefly in fantasy soon after college, mainly to stay connected with college friends in the pre-Facebook era, but gradually lost interest keeping my baseball team competitive week after week. Over the years, as fantasy sports – primarily fantasy football – exploded in popularity, I stayed on the fantasy sidelines, preferring to root for actual teams, rather than a player on my fake team I need to play well and, possibly, defeat my favorite real team. Then this past August came an email from Volume One: They were launching a fantasy football league; would I care to join? Nah … but, wait, I could always use a column idea: anti-fantasy guy plays fantasy football. With that, I was in.

Twelve years away from fantasy sports did nothing to dull my grasp of the concept. About a dozen of us Volume One-ers gathered at World Headquarters one late-summer’s evening, huddled around computers and eating absurdly spicy wings to make the choices that would guide the coming season. You choose a wacky name for your team (I wimped-out with “Team Aesthetic”), get assigned a draft order at random, and make your picks. Running backs, receivers, and quarterbacks accumulate the most points, so you draft them first (i.e., the more passes completed and touchdowns scored, the more points your team accumulates), then tight ends, kickers, and a real team defense. By the end, you’re almost guessing with picks – sort of like a real NFL draft.

I would be sure to check as many “Start ’Em Or Sit ’Em” columns as I could on Sunday mornings to see how to shift my roster. By noon, the rosters are locked as the games begin, so you sit back and start hoping your players play well … even against your real-life team.

This is where fantasy football messes with your head. In the very first game of the season, my favorite team – the Vikings – played the Lions, who fielded my starting fantasy wide receiver – Calvin Johnson. Thus came the schizophrenic experience of seeing the Lions throw a deep ball to Johnson, and simultaneously cheering that my fantasy team would get points while growing upset that the Vikes were in trouble of losing. What was happening to me?

You start getting into management: Who can I drop each week, which diamond is a recommended pick-up that no one else knows about? After a couple of weeks, you genuinely feel like a GM – so, this is what it’s like to run a team. My team. I can control how we win.

The problem is that I’m not really good. I finished towards the bottom of my division, oftentimes starting the one of my three quarterbacks who ended up having an off game and benching the guy who would go gonzo. By the end of the year, I paid scant attention to my slot in the Consolation Ladder, while “Stafford Infection*” went on to win the league. I’m frustrated with “Team Aesthetic”; it needs a shake-up. Time to fire that fantasy GM – myself – and hire a new fantasy GM for next year: myself. That guy knows how to win.

*Editor’s note: Congratulations to Local Store manager Tina Chetwood!