Fantasizing (without thinking of Full Tilt tattoos on a boobie)

I think my Fantasy Football jones/geekiness/obsession reached a new high Monday night, when I worked late after watching J-man all day and focused most of my productivity on the Colts/Bengals game.
I did that partly for three reasons:
1) Work was a little boring
2) The desire to work is a little down right now, given that I'm two days away from vacation and almost two weeks' full of barbecue, time with family and longtime friends and nothing to do with journalism.
Oh, and presents. Those are pretty cool too.
3) J-man has decided that sleeping from 3 a.m. to 4:30 a.m. isn't really necessary and that crying and screaming in his crib is a much better option. While I disagree with this, reasoning with an 18-month-old is much like reasoning with Republicans (or poker-banning legislators, in case you're a conservative and want to stop reading this blog as a result, for I'm assuming you at least think those folks suck).
So lately I've lost my best hour of sleep of the night, when I'm usually dreaming of Catholic girls in short skirts, rainbow-flopped sets and misty magic mountain tops.

Mostly, though, I watched because my fantasy team is in the playoffs.
That's right. I'm chasing my third title in six years in our tough fantasy league. I know me just saying that makes you want to shed your clothes and rip off mine, even if you're male (maybe ESPECIALLY if you're male, now that I think about it).
And, wow, what a game last night.

In a game between the two best teams this year and a game that would determine who would go to the finals and get at least $100, I started the game four points behind, with Carson Palmer and Adam Vinateri. My opponent had the lead and Chad Johnson.
And the score was tied, 70-70, with three minutes to go in the game.
OK, if you don't know fantasy football, and don't apologize if you don't (sheesh), most fantasy games don't exactly go down to the wire, and even if they're close, they usually don't go down to the WIRE like last night.
Imagine putting up A,K versus another guy's QQ, and then have that race stretched out for three hours, and put up $100 and a chance to win $400, and you'll know how I felt.

When Vinateri kicked that glorious field goal in the last two minutes, basically sealing the win for me, I knew I had won the coin flip.

Who-hoo, I said.
Probably louder than I should have at work.

I then went home and proceeded to celebrate by playing some pokah on Full Tilt and giving some of those fine players at $25 NL a bit of my money. Then I played a $5.50 SnG, as I am reworking my game, and I was up a lot early and then busted in third when I lost three coinflips, suffered two suckouts and got squawked at by a partridge in a pair tree.

I was slightly pissed, which is unusual for me, given that I usually handle suckouts and coinflip losses with the utmost in maturity and professionalism.

But then I thought about the football game that night.

I lost a potential $10, but still cashed, in an SnG because I lost some coinflips.

I won $100, and quite possibly $400, because I got one earlier.

Which one would you rather win?