Jackson believes in picking teams with your heart

Editor’s note:

Nate Jackson, a San Jose native, spent six seasons in the NFL. This is his first weekly fantasy football column for the Bay Area News Group. His books include “Slow Getting Up” and “Fantasy Man.”

Maybe you don’t play fantasy football. Maybe you do but have the good sense to root harder for your favorite NFL team. Maybe you’re an insufferable boob whose entire life is wrapped up in his make-believe roster.

There will be something here for all three of you.

I played actual football, including in the NFL from 2003-08. Now I play fantasy football. I am on three teams. That’s two too many. But it connects me with friends I don’t see anymore, so I keep it going.

I sacrifice hours each week setting my lineups and picking up new guys on the waiver wire. I assemble my teams then I nurture them. I care about them because they are mine.

The NFL regular season is a week away and fantasy football “owners” are either preparing for their drafts or have already drafted; after having read up on ESPN.com, watched simulated player auctions on ESPN2, and studied “mock drafts” from fantasy football experts on Twitter.

Mock drafts are draft practice. Some people have been doing that — practicing for their make-believe draft — which is why there is no paper in the printer, the garbage can is overflowing and the dog is looking skinny.

I prepared for the draft, too. But not by studying the mock drafts. I just pictured myself on a new team, and I filled it with guys I’d like to play with — even a few that I have. I drafted Brandon Marshall and Jay Cutler, a few of my old teammates with the Broncos, where I played for six years.

They say you should never draft with your heart, that you’ll never win fantasy football that way. Well, they’re wrong about that: I have won that way. Besides, I’d rather lose with my friends than win with strangers.

I imagine that the NFL sees fantasy football as a win-win. Fantasy football brings new eyeballs to the product, with new technologies and new endorsement deals for the league and its players — which means even more cash for the $15 billion-a-year industry.

But fantasy’s popularity comes at a price, fracturing the loyalties of some fans.

Since my team has players from all over the league, I have an interest in many teams’ performances. I want to watch them all at once! I can keep track of it all on my phone, in real time, if I wish. Hence the popularity of the NFL Network’s RedZone Channel — football on a sugar high.

The RedZone Channel, which costs extra, shows only scoring plays, disconnecting the fan from the realities of ball movement. The long haul, the change of possession, field position, special teams plays, three-and-outs: all must be endured to understand the meaning of a touchdown.

The man who carries the ball across the goal line finishes what has been an ebbing and a flowing, colliding bodies clearing spaces, throwing down gauntlets and grunting through stalemates — this is how points are scored.

Players understand this. So do those who watch the whole game.

But Andrew Siciliano at the NFL Network’s Culver City Studio is banging you around the league at a dizzying speed. Doublebox, triple-box, quadruple-box! All of the games are going at once, patching us in to see touchdowns and field goals, replaying scores that just happened but that we missed — so now we didn’t miss it. We’ll never miss any score ever!

It makes for some awk- ward Sundays. For example, Danny is wearing a 49ers jersey and lives in Santa Rosa. The Niners vs. Cardinals is on. But Danny keeps switching it to the RedZone channel and checking his phone, and in the third quarter, he jumps from the couch when Bengals receiver A. J. Green catches a touchdown pass. “That’s what I’m talking about, A. J.!” he screams as he knocks over several half- empty beer bottles and a bowl of salsa.

In 1988, when I was 9, I rode the school bus from south San Jose to downtown San Jose, where I attended Grant Elementary School. As we made stops along the way, the bus filled with Raiders fans who made fun of my 49ers hat. My seat was on the back left, second from the last. I had a Niners fan from my neighborhood in front of me, but other than that, we were surrounded by Raider kids.

“Phony Winos!” they called us. “Traitors!” we replied. In middle school, at Bret Harte, my 49ers starter jacket was my most valued possession. Gold with red trim. Fit like a dream. On a wet January day after lunch, I draped it over the shoulders of my crush as she ran off to her next class, rain water darkening the gold as her black hair clung to the nylon trim. I watched in dread as my jacket disappeared around the corner — fearing it would be gone forever. I hung my head and walked to class.

I would get my jacket back the next period, and the next year, I would get my first helmet as a freshmen at Pioneer High School — my first year of organized football. The jacket went in the closet and never came out again. I no longer needed a team to imagine myself on. I had my own team, and we wore blue and white.

Nine years later, in 2002, after graduating from Menlo College, I was signed to the 49ers as a free agent wide receiver. The red and gold of my youth were suddenly everywhere again, but Joe and Jerry were nowhere.

The way I felt as a boy on the bus; as a kid with the jacket; at the park on a fall Sunday afternoon — those were gone. I was now among my peers, fighting for a roster spot. My new helmet said “SF” on the side and “JACKSON” written on a piece of white tape stretched across the forehead. Otherwise they wouldn’t know our names.

Every once in a while, while sitting at my locker between practices, or while lifting in the weight room, I imagined my old heroes: Montana, Rice, Craig, Lott, Young, Taylor, Jones. They had trained here. Had become legends here.

And had eventually all been replaced — just like I soon was, with a tap on the shoulder and a handshake. You’ve been traded to Denver, Nate. Good luck!

The next six years that I spent as a Denver Bronco solidified the transition from fan to whatever it is that I’ve become — a former NFL player.

I still love the game, but I laugh as my friends chew down their beer cans at the wall. I want to see players play well, stay healthy and protect themselves. I enjoy a good football game.

But I just don’t care who wins anymore. I guess that’s why I like fantasy football — I care about the guys. The men who make up the NFL. The American athletes who play the sport we love. It is this story that intrigues me.

Shuffled from team to team, colors bleed into colors, rivals become friends, but the man pushes on with passion and skill, playing a game with a ball on the grass.

In addition to drafting Brandon Marshall and Jay Cutler, I took a few Broncos players. And a few 49ers, too. I still do love the red and gold.

Maybe there’s hope for me, after all. But I also drafted a few Raiders, so maybe there isn’t.