On the inside of Andy Roberts' right bicep _ really, spanning virtually the entirety of his upper arm _ is a gold bolt outlined in blue.
"It's still there, unaltered at this point," he said. "But I wouldn't call myself a fan anymore."
Not only does Matt Roberts have the same tattoo in the same place on his body, he has the Chargers shield, also blue and gold, on the outside of his left arm just below the shoulder.
"I've started looking into tattoo removal," he said.
The brothers are the living, inked embodiment of San Diego's broken love story _ the tale of a connection that was supposed to last forever, now faded and maybe one day erased but tenuously enduring in fantasy.
Fantasy football.
"I think this the only thing that is really keeping me into the NFL right now _ something that has been a part of my entire life," Andy Roberts said. "With the Chargers leaving, I have no other draw into it. It's keeping me involved."
Certainly, the Chargers of Los Angeles overwhelmingly remain San Diego's most popular NFL team. Independent polling and this newspaper's web traffic confirm that beyond any doubt. But the L.A. Chargers are also the most hated NFL team in San Diego.
It is highly likely that the favored team of the most individuals in San Diego is actually their own fantasy team.
That is at least the conclusion to be drawn from phone interviews, e-mail exchanges and a few hundred Twitter responses gathered in recent weeks.
Anecdotally, it seems clear that if the NFL maintains a significant hold in the town it allowed Dean Spanos to abandon, the league's staying power is due to the inability of many to walk away from fantasy football.
"If I could put a finger on the best part of fantasy football," Chris Barrett wrote in an email, "(it) is you (can) stay loyal to the player and not ownership."
Barrett's anger with Spanos may have colored his ranking of fantasy football's enticements. But rancor toward the Chargers chairman is pretty much unanimous among even those San Diegans still following the Chargers.
For those who aren't familiar with the phenomenon that has over the past 15 years mushroomed some 300 percent to more than 40 million participants in the United States, fantasy football is based on statistics of actual players. A group of friends, co-workers or even strangers brought together via the Internet form leagues that usually consist of eight to 12 teams. Each league holds a draft in August or early September in which NFL skill position players and entire defenses are selected. Every week, one team plays another team in the league.
Most leagues involve an entry fee (from $10 to more than $1,000) with prizes for the top finishers. Some leagues have trophies for the champion. In some, the last-place finisher also gets a trophy or sometimes has to complete a debasing task.
Whether a league involves a monetary incentive for winning or not, bragging rights are prized.
"Every single day of the week you're taking trash with your buddies," said David Brown, whose league recently had a perpetual trophy created that resembles the Lombardi trophy. "The group texts go all week."
For all those reasons � the camaraderie, boasting, money, a way to stay engaged in the entirety of the NFL � the fact is that the draw of fantasy has essentially supplanted reality for many football fans.
A study released this summer by the Fantasy Sports Trade Association asserted that fantasy football is a $7.22 billion industry. Some estimates have it more like $11 billion, all told. The latter number would make the derivative market almost as big as the foundational market, as NFL revenues reportedly soared past $13 billion in 2016. Regardless, there is no question the exponential growth of the NFL over the past decade-plus is greatly attributable to the exponential growth of fantasy football.
The blurring of the lines of devotion between love of the NFL and the fantasy football it fuels was accelerated for some San Diegans by the Chargers losing and talk of leaving even before they actually left.
"As the relocation discussion started happening," Andy Eslinger wrote in an e-mail, "I found myself caring more about my fantasy team than the Chargers."
For many, that focus on fantasy football helped soften Dean Spanos' kick to the groin.
"Fantasy football has become so ingrained in my football fandom that it has made the Chargers leaving our city less of an ordeal for me than it may have otherwise been," Chris Long said via email. "...When the Chargers announced they would be leaving for Los Angeles, nothing really changed for me. I'll still follow them more closely than any other NFL team, but less so than the individual players on my fantasy teams. If the team had moved during the peak of the L.T. years before the fantasy football realm had fully pulled me in, I believe I would have been much more devastated than I am today."
Oh, some disenfranchised Chargers fans have discarded the NFL as well, fantasy football included.
Ben Lacy retired on top. He won his 12-tyeam league with co-workers last year. But after being an "avid" fantasy player for more than a decade, sometimes managing teams in multiple leagues, he walked away when the Chargers did.
"It's a fun time and a great way to follow other teams and players," Lacy said via e-mail. "But this year, with the way the Chargers and NFL worked together to just turn their backs on a fan base, I am no longer interested in supporting the product."
A number of former Chargers fans professed newfound freedom.
"I'm not sure if fantasy football will be more enjoyable, but it will make my decision regarding my fantasy team easier," Matt Ochoa wrote in an email. "As a Chargers fan in the past my heart would sometimes take over and I'd take a Chargers player just to have them in my team instead of taking a player that might be better in fantasy. ... I just think I will be playing fantasy football with my head rather than my heart now. And I don't have to worry about my (running back) scoring against (the Chargers) anymore. It's all about winning the money and rooting for my fantasy team."
Ochoa is among the many San Diegans _ likely a strong majority, even _ still playing fantasy football who at least pondered quitting.
"I was angry with the NFL and didn't want to give them any of my attention," he said. "It was going to be my way to protest the move. But the fact of the matter is I love the sport of football, and the NFL is the highest level of football there is, so I still want to watch. And since I don't have a team to cheer on anymore I figured my fantasy team can give me some kind of rooting interest throughout the season."
Brown was among those that considered bailing on the Chargers but never fantasy football.
"Our league didn't have anyone leave," he said. "We're all diehard Chargers fans. Some aren't Charger fans anymore, but they're still into fantasy football."
The Roberts brothers will see.
Andy Roberts said he hardly prepared for their league's draft and isn't sure how engaged he will be this season. Matt Roberts acknowledged that while staying in touch with the friends from high school that make up their league is the most enjoyable component of fantasy football, he would have been fine not participating.
"I came pretty close to bailing this year," he said. "I probably would have except we had a couple guys bail before me. I felt like some other people were melting down a little bit, so I decided to do one last year."
Maybe the Roberts' involvement in fantasy football will outlast their tattoos. Maybe not.
Like so much of this sordid and sad story, Chargers fans' (and ex-Chargers fans') reality, even when it comes to fantasy, is subject to change.
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