It's crunch time for fantasy football players. The season opener is just around the corner on Sept. 10.

So we turned to some local sports experts to get their thoughts about strategy and the fantasy culture. (And by "experts," we mean "sports media types.") Here are some of their helpful hints, anecdotes and fantasy theories.

Rob Clark

1. It's not the Era of the Running Back anymore. Most teams have two backs,

a lot have three that will get carries. I still see fantasy mock drafts in which of the first 15 picks, 12 of them will be running backs. That's crazy. There aren't that many elite backs anymore.

2. It's Drew Brees' world and we're living in it. I don't know where the Saints are headed in the NFC South this season, but I can tell you this: Brees passed for 5,000 yards last year without a 1,000-yard receiver. Get him!

3. Terrell Owens is a touchdown machine. Terrell Owens had a bad toe in the preseason and is playing in Buffalo.

He will still find the end zone in '09.

1. Own only one team. Football is complicated enough without having to figure out whether you should be rooting for or against a player.

2. If a running back is going to get 20 carries per game, make room for him on your roster. Samkon Gado and Nick Goings have played key roles on championship teams for me.

3. Remember this before drafting Tony Romo: The fantasy playoffs are in December.

1. DON'T take a tight end in the second round. My first year playing fantasy, someone told me to take a QB-WR tandem from the same team. I took Donovan McNabb with my first pick. T.O. was off the board by the time my second pick rolled around, so I took L.J. Smith. You could've heard a pin drop.

2. Pick with your head ... not your heart. Deep into my first fantasy draft,

I ran out of players to pick, so I decided my team needed a good "locker-room guy"... so I drafted Dan Campbell. He even made fun of me for that one.

I had my draft last week at a friend's house. The stereotypical fantasy football players were in full attendance. You know, the guys you'll see at every draft, in every part of the country, no matter how sophisticated the players may be.

Jersey-Wearing Guy: This is the guy who feels the need to wear his team's jersey to any function that deals with football in general. He'll pick players that went to his college of choice, and stay away from players who play for his favorite team's rival. The more Jersey-Wearing Guys you have in your league, the better you'll do.

Absentee Guy: This is the guy who always seems to draft a player who was picked four rounds earlier. He often can be found in the kitchen getting a beer when it's his turn to pick, and he is the sole reason that every other player in the league gets in trouble with their wife for the draft going two hours longer than expected.

I-Was-Just-Going-to-Draft-Him Guy: This is also the same person who will be overly critical of every pick you make, while at the same time repeating, "I love my team."

Over-preparer: He brings a laptop, five different fantasy magazines, three mock drafts that he's done in the past eight days, and a cellphone that he'll use to call a friend for a second opinion about his draft. He usually takes three minutes longer than anyone else to make his pick, and he always finishes out of the playoffs.

My basic fantasy football stance is based on many years of playing in leagues and finishing near last place. What makes this particularly defeating is that I am falsely labeled a "ringer" in the league by all of my opponents because I discuss football for a living.

The under-sell over-deliver philosophy I have tried to establish in my life is ruined by all of the insurance men or stock brokers I play against who insist that they "have no chance" to win the league because the sports-radio dork is playing.

What is closer to the truth is that I am lousy. I pick players I like, I ignore players I don't like.

On Sunday, I am made crazy by the fact that watching football is excruciating enough without outside forces like gambling or fantasy football adding to the pain.

By Oct. 1, I am usually near the bottom of the league, and by Nov. 1, apathy has set in.

I wish I had a great formula to help you win your league, but the reality is this: If I am in your league, you at least won't finish last.

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