Football is more or less a religion in this country. It doesn't matter if you're talking to Roger Goodell or Barbara Walters, pretty much every American can name the receiving corps for the Seattle Seahawks and give you a tactical means of ending the referee lockout. When you scoff like a prick when someone says they drafted Matt Ryan in the first round, understand that you look like B.J. Raji's jock smells—only more revolting.
Developing an expert knowledge of fantasy football is like constructing your own authentically detailed, true to scale Optimus Prime costume for Comic-Con. It's a lot of time and effort devoted to something that impresses no one and, if anything, provides an exact measurement for how pathetic your life has become.