Part Two: A missing man
In another installment of our award-winning "heartfelt features" series, which perfects the long-standing journalistic tradition of writing dramatically about some stuff, we examine the damage fantasy sports is doing to American society. Today's story is Part Two of a three-part series.
Where is Jon Gault?
It's a question wife Marie Gault has been asking for more than six months, but in a way, she's afraid to know the answer. The letter Jon sends her in the mail every other month or so reassures Marie that he's not in a ditch somewhere, but the postmarks always come from different locations around the Midwest, and he never gives hints of his whereabouts.
"He could send me an e-mail -- lord knows he spends the majority of his time in front of a computer screen," Marie said. "But he knows I'll be able to trace him then, and I guess he assumes I'd want that. I do, as it turns out. I really just want him to snap out of it and come home."
But Marie concedes that it's more than just a phase with her estranged husband. It's an obsession, and it all began with an invitation to join his office fantasy baseball league.
'NOT REALLY FOR ME'
The Gaults' story is another example in a long line of case studies showcasing the destructive nature of fantasy sports in relationships. In a remarkable dose of irony, they met at a sports bar in Indiana, when she was there to cheer on her beloved Indiana University in the NCAA Tournament, and he was merely there with friends.
"He liked sports, but he wasn't as passionate about it as I was," she said. "Not that I was a lunatic about it, but I loved the Hoosiers, and he was more like the guy who watched sports because it was something to do with the guys. Still, we hit it off instantly."
They were married two years later and by then, many of Marie Thompson's preferred sports interests had rubbed off on her husband. He started wearing crimson and cream on Indiana game nights, and he had become a relatively informed fan of the Indianapolis Colts and Chicago White Sox.
"It definitely got to the point where he was more into it than I was," Marie said. "But I didn't mind, of course. He was a guy, and guys like sports, so it seemed very normal to me."
She paid attention to his love for statistics. Jon was an actuary, and already had a keen interest in numbers and trends, so sports seemed to supplement his awareness of numbers.
"I knew some of my friends were in a fantasy baseball league, and I figured that would be perfect for him," Marie said. "But he said he liked cheering for teams and not individual players. He said, 'It's not really for me.'"
THE GAMES BEGIN
Somewhat on a whim, co-worker Brad Zystrad opened a fantasy baseball league for the 2007 season, and when Jon Gault received the e-mail, he found himself accepting immediately.
"He told me it was his first fantasy baseball league, so he was pretty excited," Zystrad said. "I've seen it before where guys get giddy once they think they have a handle on the procedures and stuff. He started asking a lot of questions about rules, and then he started talking about guys he thought were good late-round sleepers within a week."
Marie noticed the change immediately. Her husband started explaining the intricacies of the game to her, and she listened as attentively as she could despite her limited interest.
"I thought it was cute, to be honest," Marie said. "I was glad he found such a fun hobby. I pretended to be interested, and I guess I was a little bit. But if he wasn't talking about White Sox, I didn't care at all, and even then, I didn't know every player on the team."
Gault's interest level rose immediately and suddenly. Marie said he'd spend hours on the computer, neglecting household chores at times to constantly peruse stats and box scores. He began calling fantasy league members at all hours, sometimes at work and sometimes an hour or two after the couple was traditionally in bed.
She said it truly began to worry her when he backed out of a trip to visit her parents, feigning an illness.
"I really thought he was sick, but he spent most of that weekend checking his fantasy team," she said. "It occurred to me that he had made up the illness, and he was really hurt when I confronted him."
To Marie, the hobby crossed over into obsession at the point they began to discuss children, and she balked at the idea of getting pregnant, especially after Jon started talking about having a son and buying him a Johan Santana jersey.
Santana pitched for the Minnesota Twins, a team that was actually one of Chicago's rivals. But Santana was on his fantasy team.
"There was something that told me it wasn't the right time," she said. "The Jon I married had been a little harder to reach right then. It frightened me, I won't lie."
JON GAULT DISAPPEARS
Marie went from understanding wife to avid opponent of fantasy sports.
She called Zystad and tried to have her husband taken out of the league, a maneuver that led to yet another argument when her husband found out.
"I tried to tell him I was concerned that he was taking it all a bit too seriously," Zystad said. "But he just laughed it off. I stopped being subtle and finally told him his wife had come to me, and he was furious."
She even contemplated destroying the computer, but she knew he would find a way of feeding his habit. He could check his team on his cell phone and work computer. She said the last straw came when the couple was standing up at her niece's baptism.
"He got a cell phone alert that some player had gotten hurt, and he actually left the service to call a friend to get the guy out of his lineup," Marie said, with tears welling in her eyes. "Nothing else was more important to him than fantasy sports. Not even eating."
Marie said she could barely talk to her husband without some reference to fantasy sports coming up, and in defense, she stopped talking to him at all. Finally, she did destroy the computer, and did so without any explanation or apology. She prepared herself to leave him, but she didn't have to. On the morning of August 18, Jon Gault disappeared.
"I assumed he was in the garage or in another room checking his team on his cell phone," she said. "But he wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere."
Jon left a message on the counter, saying he needed some "time to think," and he did not call his wife until two days later. He told her he was fine and was staying with friends for a while. He called once more later in the month, and then stopped communicating at all, except for the letters that began to trickle in.
"I don't know what he's doing for money," she said, noting that he offered no notice to his employers before disappearing. "I don't know where he's living or how he even gets his Internet access. But I bet he gets the last part. I'm afraid that might be the most important part to him."
Have you seen Jon Gault?
It's a question wife Marie Gault has been asking for more than six months, but in a way, she's afraid to know the answer. The letter Jon sends her in the mail every other month or so reassures Marie that he's not in a ditch somewhere, but the postmarks always come from different locations around the Midwest, and he never gives hints of his whereabouts.
"He could send me an e-mail -- lord knows he spends the majority of his time in front of a computer screen," Marie said. "But he knows I'll be able to trace him then, and I guess he assumes I'd want that. I do, as it turns out. I really just want him to snap out of it and come home."
But Marie concedes that it's more than just a phase with her estranged husband. It's an obsession, and it all began with an invitation to join his office fantasy baseball league.
'NOT REALLY FOR ME'
The Gaults' story is another example in a long line of case studies showcasing the destructive nature of fantasy sports in relationships. In a remarkable dose of irony, they met at a sports bar in Indiana, when she was there to cheer on her beloved Indiana University in the NCAA Tournament, and he was merely there with friends.
"He liked sports, but he wasn't as passionate about it as I was," she said. "Not that I was a lunatic about it, but I loved the Hoosiers, and he was more like the guy who watched sports because it was something to do with the guys. Still, we hit it off instantly."
They were married two years later and by then, many of Marie Thompson's preferred sports interests had rubbed off on her husband. He started wearing crimson and cream on Indiana game nights, and he had become a relatively informed fan of the Indianapolis Colts and Chicago White Sox.
"It definitely got to the point where he was more into it than I was," Marie said. "But I didn't mind, of course. He was a guy, and guys like sports, so it seemed very normal to me."
She paid attention to his love for statistics. Jon was an actuary, and already had a keen interest in numbers and trends, so sports seemed to supplement his awareness of numbers.
"I knew some of my friends were in a fantasy baseball league, and I figured that would be perfect for him," Marie said. "But he said he liked cheering for teams and not individual players. He said, 'It's not really for me.'"
THE GAMES BEGIN
Somewhat on a whim, co-worker Brad Zystrad opened a fantasy baseball league for the 2007 season, and when Jon Gault received the e-mail, he found himself accepting immediately.
"He told me it was his first fantasy baseball league, so he was pretty excited," Zystrad said. "I've seen it before where guys get giddy once they think they have a handle on the procedures and stuff. He started asking a lot of questions about rules, and then he started talking about guys he thought were good late-round sleepers within a week."
Marie noticed the change immediately. Her husband started explaining the intricacies of the game to her, and she listened as attentively as she could despite her limited interest.
"I thought it was cute, to be honest," Marie said. "I was glad he found such a fun hobby. I pretended to be interested, and I guess I was a little bit. But if he wasn't talking about White Sox, I didn't care at all, and even then, I didn't know every player on the team."
Gault's interest level rose immediately and suddenly. Marie said he'd spend hours on the computer, neglecting household chores at times to constantly peruse stats and box scores. He began calling fantasy league members at all hours, sometimes at work and sometimes an hour or two after the couple was traditionally in bed.
She said it truly began to worry her when he backed out of a trip to visit her parents, feigning an illness.
"I really thought he was sick, but he spent most of that weekend checking his fantasy team," she said. "It occurred to me that he had made up the illness, and he was really hurt when I confronted him."
To Marie, the hobby crossed over into obsession at the point they began to discuss children, and she balked at the idea of getting pregnant, especially after Jon started talking about having a son and buying him a Johan Santana jersey.
Santana pitched for the Minnesota Twins, a team that was actually one of Chicago's rivals. But Santana was on his fantasy team.
"There was something that told me it wasn't the right time," she said. "The Jon I married had been a little harder to reach right then. It frightened me, I won't lie."
JON GAULT DISAPPEARS
Marie went from understanding wife to avid opponent of fantasy sports.
She called Zystad and tried to have her husband taken out of the league, a maneuver that led to yet another argument when her husband found out.
"I tried to tell him I was concerned that he was taking it all a bit too seriously," Zystad said. "But he just laughed it off. I stopped being subtle and finally told him his wife had come to me, and he was furious."
She even contemplated destroying the computer, but she knew he would find a way of feeding his habit. He could check his team on his cell phone and work computer. She said the last straw came when the couple was standing up at her niece's baptism.
"He got a cell phone alert that some player had gotten hurt, and he actually left the service to call a friend to get the guy out of his lineup," Marie said, with tears welling in her eyes. "Nothing else was more important to him than fantasy sports. Not even eating."
Marie said she could barely talk to her husband without some reference to fantasy sports coming up, and in defense, she stopped talking to him at all. Finally, she did destroy the computer, and did so without any explanation or apology. She prepared herself to leave him, but she didn't have to. On the morning of August 18, Jon Gault disappeared.
"I assumed he was in the garage or in another room checking his team on his cell phone," she said. "But he wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere."
Jon left a message on the counter, saying he needed some "time to think," and he did not call his wife until two days later. He told her he was fine and was staying with friends for a while. He called once more later in the month, and then stopped communicating at all, except for the letters that began to trickle in.
"I don't know what he's doing for money," she said, noting that he offered no notice to his employers before disappearing. "I don't know where he's living or how he even gets his Internet access. But I bet he gets the last part. I'm afraid that might be the most important part to him."
Have you seen Jon Gault?
Labels: Heartfelt features
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