In a football draft, fantasy is often overshadowed by reality

I’m no Jerry Jones. I’m not even Jerry Seinfeld, whose show I miss very much. A friend reminded me the other day about the episode where George goes to tip a counter guy, but the counter guy doesn’t see George drop the tip in the jar. So George reaches in to pull out his dollar — to re-tip, so to speak — at which point the counter guy turns around and assumes George is stealing his tips. Mayhem ensues, as it so often does in real life.

Mayhem ensues, on that you can always rely. In fact, I may work up a new show called “Mayhem Ensues,” whose theme will be good gestures gone awry. Honestly, I’ve never done anything for anybody that didn’t go a little bonkers.

Which brings me to my fantasy football draft. Bigger than Christmas? You decide.

I was looking to set up a fantasy league with about a dozen friends, my way of giving back to the community. Right away we get into this long dispute about how we should hold the draft — should it be in person, should it be online, should there be table dancers, the sort of idiot arguments men fall into whenever three or four of us get together. It’s no wonder we can make no progress on the Middle East or who should host “Idol.” When men talk, nothing really happens.

Note that about half my friends are attorneys, the other half felons. It makes for some interesting conversations, not to mention dinner parties, where stuff always winds up missing — silverware, pencil sharpeners, pets. Naturally, I trust the felons more.

Anyway, in the draft conversation, mayhem ensued when one of the private-practice attorneys made some crack about one of the big-firm attorneys, referencing “the dark side,” or something like that, which rubbed the big-firm attorney the wrong way entirely. The big-firm attorney immediately dropped out of the league, even though the league hadn’t even really started. It was sort of like getting divorced on the very first date.

Leadership requires some uncomfortable moments, so right away I step up and mumble something — by e-mail — about not taking such things too personally, because we’re “just a bunch of knuckleheads after all.” Lately, I find myself advising people more and more not to take knuckleheads too seriously, which I think is a sign of the confrontational nature of modern life.

But I digress.

If you haven’t played in a fantasy league, might I recommend Yahoo’s system, which is a really masterful program that tallies up results, allows for remote online drafts and pours your second beer. I won’t pretend to be an expert on all the options out there, but Yahoo’s works well, that’s all I know — allowing for the inevitable crash or two because of your outmoded electronics.

You should know that, under Yahoo, online drafts happen quick as earthquakes — boom-boom-boom. Ours flew by — 10 teams, 24 rounds, in a little over an hour.

“TAKE RUNNING BACKS FIRST! TAKE RUNNING BACKS FIRST!” is the thinking on most fantasy drafts. Then you take a couple elite receivers, but don’t wait too long for a quarterback. NFL quarterbacks have been pretty durable of late, so don’t waste a high pick on a backup.

That’s the conventional wisdom.

Like Copernicus (and George Halas), I despise the conventional wisdom. Guys like us think outside the luxury box. For instance, I select Jennifer Hudson in the third round. The way our point system rewards rushing touchdowns — and Hudson’s crushing effectiveness in goal line situations — it seems a no-brainer.

For some reason, Yahoo’s elaborate software does not allow you to draft celebrities. When I tried to substitute Jessica Alba instead, everything went all wonky.

Unfortunately, I now participate in a mere 14 leagues — for me, fantasy football is just a distraction, not a way of life. Yet, I’m still fluent enough to recover when stuff like this pops up.

So I somehow manage to take Markie Post at tight end, a nostalgic pick to be sure, but one I don’t regret. I loved her then and I love her now. I’ll bet a lot of you guys tried to take Joe Klecko for the very same reasons.

With the draft complete, I’m now recommending that all the team owners get together for pizza and a few beers to go over waiver rules and whether they want to play for money. Or maybe everyone just wants to put up his house or car. I’m all for that.

Will mayhem ensue? I really doubt it. It’s fantasy football after all, and sensible people usually prevail — though I fear most of my friends now carry weapons.

I’m bringing a camera just in case.

chris.erskine@latimes.com