I believe in large part that we are all a product of our environment. I have written that before and I will write that again at some point because it is so evident in my life. With that said, our environments change and if not properly attended to, pieces of the surroundings that shaped our character can be forgotten or fade into a pale existence on the periphery of our mind. That is why I consider my friends a hobby.

When my friends and I all left for our respective colleges after high school graduation a set of traditions were formed out of our desire to stay connected. The first tradition is that of the Alamo. Any time that a few of us or, on special occasions, all seven of us were in town we would meet at a special location that we call the Alamo, symbolically named because if our whereabouts and activities were ever discovered it would have inevitably led to a final stand with the authorities and none of us would have survived but our cause was just and our memory would have been eternal.

In the confines of our “mission” we would drink beers, play music, sing, discuss weighty topics and chart the courses of our future sometimes gently nudging one another towards the greatest version of ourselves. The Alamo days for all intents and purposes are gone and are likely never to return but their purpose was served because the spirit of the Alamo continues to course through our veins and unites us.

The second tradition with the “Alabros” deals with feats. Ever intrepid we set out to conquer physical feats of strength and through toil have sharpened our appreciation of one another. The first milestone was undertaken the summer between freshman and sophomore year of college. We set out to kayak across Mobile Bay which stretches ten miles in length through the seventh busiest shipping lane in the continental United States. This brave demonstration took equal parts courage, planning, blind luck and Pusser’s Rum, the official spirit of the British Navy. We left from a buddy’s house on the West side of the bay and after five hours rowed right into the harbor of the Grand Hotel on the East side of the bay. How we managed to navigate with such precision is still a mystery to me.

The second and third adventures were traversed on land. For my twenty-first birthday I decided that it would be a good idea to symbolically run twenty-one miles around Mobile and end up at the Mobile Yacht Club for a dip in the bay. Joe was the only Alabro to accompany me on this sojourn and we omitted the dip in the bay for fear of seizing up and drowning. Since we had at this point kayaked across the bay and proven our ability to run superhuman distances, our third trial was to run across the causeway (essentially running across the bay). Joe, Jack and I undertook this journey beginning at six in the morning to avoid the July sun. The distance was twelve miles and after shedding approximately a quarter of our body weight in sweat we surmounted the task.

We have another kayak journey down the Chattahoochee planned for the near future as well as a century ride across the Silver Comet bike trail. The story of our friendship is now captured in pictures taken when we are together. Individually these pictures are not especially appealing yet when they are pieced together as a mosaic it reveals a tale of uncommon comradery and commitment.

Reluctantly I made other friends in college and am changed from having met them as well. Again graduation came the parting ways began anew. Quite by serendipity my fraternity brothers and I started a fantasy football league during our junior year of college to see what all of the fuss about. It turns out that the fuss is about it being one of the most cerebral and interesting ways to enjoy America’s favorite sport. Recent studies have shown that fantasy football is ten times more potent and addictive than opium*.

I used the word “serendipity” above because creating this league truly has been a source of good fortune and I do not believe any one of our twelve members could have predicted the positive effect it has had on our fraternal bond. If we are all completely honest with ourselves we will understand that one cannot truly appreciate the depths of “The League” unless one is a member of the crew. Yet, despite this self-evident fact we still have a waiting list of eager gentleman attempting to join our number. Unfortunately for them, our unofficial constitution authored by yours truly, caps the number of team owners at 12.

There are three events that occur each season which rank above the weekly reorganization of starters and nuanced mind games with one’s opponent. These events listed chronologically are thus:

i)Draft Day- we all converge on a city, stock the cooler and disparage one another for three or four hours. In and of itself that sounds like a good time but add several layers of complexity when owners have to pivot their strategy because some idiot drafted your round three pick in round two (who would do that?). All the preparation leading up to draft day turns to dust as soon as the clock starts. Semi-complicated spreadsheet draft models go by the wayside and plans to hold the league’s tight ends hostage are abandoned as the heat is turned up.

1. ii) Trade Deadline Day – this one got to me last year. I made a series of poor trades out of desperation and ultimately got stuck with two subpar running backs, big mistake. Anyways, this event will play tricks on your head as you fear you will miss out and will end up with post traumatic deadline depression.

iii)The Shelby Bowl – this bowl game is our version of the toilet bowl, which is to say it takes place between the two worst teams in the league and in this instance the team with the least amount of points is proclaimed the “winner” of The Shelby Bowl. Each Shelby Bowl winner is presented with “The Rock” and must display the badge of defeat in a prominent place in his living quarters.

You will inevitably notice that I have not listed the championship game as one of the events that rank above all other. This is because no one really cares about the championship except for the two teams participating. Everyone else is still sour that their “championship team” had a couple of unlucky suspensions or injuries (rolling my eyes, whatever cowboy better luck next year maybe you should start someone besides any player from the Bucs).

And so those are three of the four, friends, feats and fantasy. But what about folly? It would be folly to presume that friendships will take care of themselves. Friendships need cultivating and require commitment. If your friends and you do not make a concerted effort to stay connected your ties will fade like a newspaper in the sun. Try instead to consider your friendships a hobby as you become busy with work, romantic relationships and children. It has worked thus far for me. I offer you \my apologies that this post ran a tad long. Part III of my introduction will be much shorter. Thanks for reading!

*denotes a made up statistic for hyperbolic purposes