Watching sports is a big part of my life, a concept not many people understand.

Especially when football is the topic at hand. I mean, I’m a girl, so what do I know about the pigskin? Do I really spend my weekends in the fall watching a split-screen TV, only to spend the rest of the year getting my blood pressure back to normal?

Yes, actually, I do.

I remember two years ago when the football fans at the law firm I work for—all of which happened to be males—gathered in the conference room with beer and pizza and closed doors for their fantasy draft.

The longer I watched from the receptionist’s desk at the other end of the hallway, the more I wondered why I wasn’t invited. The answer came the next day, when the “commissioner” of the league laughed in my face when I asked if I could join next year.

A year and countless reminders later, I received THE email, the one that asked me to join the Fantasy Football league. My female co-worker and I joined forces as the “PowerPuff Girls,” with a team full of sleepers.

Every week we listened to trash talking, only to finish the regular season 12-5 for third place. Although our postseason debut was not as sparkling as the regular season—I’m convinced our “random” matchup with the best team in the league was a fluke—we still took $150 away, and proved a lot of people wrong.

It was no surprise a few weeks ago when the solo girl group received another invitation, this year joining the Fantasy Football league as team “Victorious Secret.” After hours of research, mock drafts and comparing ESPN and Yahoo! top Fantasy picks, first place is in sight, as long as Jay Cutler and Chicago live up to the preseason buzz.

The moral of the story: girls rule, boys … don’t.