"Can I play in a league with you?"

I hear that a lot. In fact, it's probably the question I get asked most after "Whom should I start?" and "Seriously? They put you on TV?"

There are a lot of variations on it.

Sometimes they are very nice.

Joe (Cleveland): Hey TMR, been reading your stuff for a couple years now, and I'm a big fan. My roommate and I are setting up our annual fantasy football league and we have an extra spot.

Sometimes they are cocky.

Rob (Texas): I would like to be in a football league or baseball league with you. I dominate every other league I'm in. I'm incredibly active and check my email 10 times a day. Let me know.

And sometimes they are less than kind.

Rob (Pennsylvania): (sic) you have no clue what you are talking about and i have no idea how you have that job id love to play in a fantasy league with you so you can learn from a true fantasy king.

I always say no.

From "industry" leagues with people at other fantasy websites to leagues for radio stations and advertisers and marketing or publicity people, from people in the comments section of my articles to people from high school I haven't spoken to in 20 years who contact me out of the blue to say "we talked about it and decided it'd be fun to have you in our league," from employees of companies that are in business with ESPN to people who follow me on Twitter or Facebook or random people who reach out through friends of friends, I get requests all the time.

I always say no.

I feel bad about it. I'm totally flattered that people want to play with me, even though I know the main reasons I get invited are because (1) I work for ESPN, (2) they think if they can beat the "ESPN guy" it means something, or (3) after reading me, people are more convinced than ever that "I can definitely crush that idiot." Whatever the reason or tone, still the invites come, many times and from all over.

I always say no.

It's not that I'm not appreciative or interested. I am. It's not that I don't love fantasy football. I do. It's just that I'm already in too many leagues as is. And it's not just double-digit fantasy football leagues. It's Pick 'Em leagues, Eliminator contests, salary-cap leagues like Gridiron Challenge, leagues where you draft NFL teams and compete based on wins (and, in one case, losses.) Many, many different types of fantasy football and football-related leagues. At a certain point, it becomes diminishing returns, and then, instead of disappointing someone by not playing, I disappoint them by being no fun at all to play with as I wind up not being as active or engaged in their league as they were expecting when they bothered to ask me.

So I always say no.

Until about this time last year. Once again, the question was asked.

"Can I play in a league with you?"

And this time, I was surprised. It was my 13-year-old stepson and, for the first time, he was showing an interest in what I do for a living.

If you remember, in this article last preseason, I told you about how I got married to a wonderful woman who happened to come with three boys. We also had twin daughters last year. It's chaos at home. Good, happy chaos, but chaos nonetheless.

Anyway, after we got married, everything sort of hit me at once. I went from seeing the kids a few times a week when their mother and I were dating to, now, living with them. I can barely take care of myself. And, other than my dog, I've never really been responsible for any other living being, and now, here I was, in the same house as three boys aged 7, 11 and 13.

It's a huge transition. And not just for me. Think about it from a kid's point of view. They've been through a lot in their young lives, and now, despite spending a lot of time with me before the wedding and all of us getting along, it's still a big adjustment to living in a new house with your mom and her new husband, right?

So we all started living together and I tried to walk a fine line. I wanted to be there for them but also didn't want to come on too strong. Show them I cared but not that I was trying to replace anyone. The big decisions were their parents' call, but I could be a sounding board, an advocate or, when necessary, a disciplinarian, as well. I tried to be positive and involved but not too pushy.

And although all three boys are sports fans and knew what I do, even occasionally watching "Fantasy Football Now" -- Sundays at 11 a.m. ET on ESPN2; tune in for the preseason show all August long! -- none of them had ever shown a real interest in what I did. Until now.

"I want to play in a league with you."
"You do, huh?"
"Yeah. Actually, I want to do a team with you. Can we? Is it too late?"

Turns out, I almost always say no.

"No, it's not too late. We'll start a league."

And start a league we did. My wife and I are friends with the parents of all the kids' close friends. So I decided we should do an extended family league. It'd be an eight-team league; we'd invite parents to co-own with their kids and do it up. I would co-own with the 13-year-old.

The next day, we had just finished watching the 11-year-old's youth football game. As we were walking out, we ran into his father and his father's longtime girlfriend. And a thought occurred to me.

"Hey, uh, don't know if you'd be interested, but I think we're gonna do a little fantasy football league with all the kids. You wanna play? You could co-own a team with [the 11-year-old]."

He looked surprised by the invitation. We had always had a very cordial relationship, but it's not as if we ever socialized or anything. And this whole thing had to be an adjustment for him, as well; now there's some new guy living with his kids? He's always been respectful of me and I of him, but it's still weird, you know? Awkward. Divorce is never easy on anyone, and new partners entering the equation certainly don't make anything simpler.

But he looked at me and said "Sure. Sounds fun."

And that weekend, we all gathered at a friend's house. The kids and their friends, their parents, my wife and I … and her ex-husband and his girlfriend.

I was the only one who had ever played fantasy football before, so I printed out a bunch of ESPN cheat sheets and roster forms, explained the rules, keeping it super simple, and suggested that, if they were unsure, they should just go down the list and pick the next available guy. They could ask me anything they wanted during the draft; I'd help everyone equally and the 13-year-old would draft for us.

I have to tell you, doing a draft with a bunch of 11- and 13-year-olds who know nothing about fantasy is hilarious.

The kids grew up in Connecticut, so they've mostly watched just the local teams. That led to this...