I love shoes. I’m not unique in this love. Many women do. Shoes feed a women’s soul. They make us feel good even when our jeans make us feel bad. They reinforce the many facets of our personality. We wear loafers to the playground, mules with denim, stilettos out to dinner, pumps to a meeting. We can splurge on $800 boots or delight in $20 flats.

I normally try to avoid wide generalizations, but many of the women I know love shoes just like many of the men I know love sports. For the most part, this works out well and keeps balance in the universe. For example, Sundays in the fall are known in my house as football days. They are also a great day for me to go shopping. Denver is playing the Jets? Great, I need a pair of Uggs. New England at Miami? Sounds like a good day to find brown to-the-knee boots with a pointy toe and a skinny heel. BC and Notre Dame? Kids, mommy needs a leopard bootie. Get in the car!

My husband thinks I’m obsessive about shoes. He thinks I spend too much money on them. He can’t understand why I need five pair of black heels (a two inch heel pump, a three inch heel pump, a patent pump, a slingback, and a peep toe). He resents the space my shoes take in the closet.

He thinks there's no comparison between my love of shoes and his love of sports. He’s right. There is no comparison. He’s obsessed. I’m not. How can I make that claim after talking about five different kinds of black heels and three different kinds of boots? Easy. I can even make that statement after telling you I own approximately 60 different pair of shoes. I can confidently make that claim after telling you I spent $300 on my last pair.

What separates the man from the woman? Two words: Fantasy. Leagues.

My husband belongs to two fantasy leagues: one for football and one for baseball. He spends hours researching his draft picks. He reads online reports to help build his team. He actually attends a draft at some other guy’s house. On draft night, I have to leave work early so he won’t be late for the first round pick.

I have to LEAVE WORK EARLY on draft night so he won’t miss the first round pick. Granted I spend lots of money on shoes. I won’t deny that. But my shoe habit has never interfered with my career, much less my spouse’s. In fact, I would argue in some cases, my shoes have enhanced my career. My menswear inspired black patent and suede pumps were the perfect accessory for my presentation on marketing results. And because I bought them on sale, they complemented the return-on-investment theme.

My husband spends at least an hour each night during a season checking scores, stats and schedules. He is always up-to-date on who’s on the disabled list for baseball or the injured reserve for football. To be fair, he does pretty well with his fantasy teams. I’m pretty sure he’s made the playoffs every season.

He attributes his ability to get to the postseason to his willingness to make “moves.” You see, he actively manages his team. He trades, he benches players, he adjusts his roster. Other fantasy team managers aren’t as willing to make moves he tells me. Moves cost money. And they require a ridiculous amount of research time.

Every Monday from April through January, he gives me an update on his team. “I am in first place,” he’ll tell me. Or he’ll inform me, “My quarterback is playing this week. I should do okay.” While watching a Red Sox game I’ll notice him rooting for a player on the opposing team. “That’s my guy. I need him to homer.” He yells encouragement at the TV. I remind him, “They can’t hear you, Coach.”

Now I know a lot of women think fantasy leagues are silly. And I know many men who defend them. I have coworkers and male friends who are involved in fantasy leagues too. Usually the sexes just agree to disagree. “I don’t get it,” says the woman. “You wouldn’t understand,” responds the man.

Well, I want to try to understand. If shoes are for women what sports are for men, than shouldn’t we have a fantasy league too?

Maybe women would spend less money on shoes if we played in fantasy shoe leagues. After all, one of the reasons men like fantasy sports is because they fulfill their unmet desire to play pro ball. Would pretend shopping satisfy our desire for unbought shoes?

Think about it. Women could build a “team” of shoes for the fall fashion season. To make the comparison work, let’s say they could have nine pair on their team to match the nine players on a baseball field. Key positions would include a lead-off loafer, a pump, a high boot, an ankle bootie, a sandal, a ballet slipper, a mule, a slingback and a designated sneaker. Each week, women would face a fashion challenge. They would be given an outfit and would need to choose a shoe to match. If they had the right shoe that completed the look, they would earn points. If the shoe clashed or the heel length was wrong, points would be deducted. For example, if during the draft you chose a leopard pump but then you were given a bold, floral patterned dress, you might need to make a trade for a more neutral shoe or risk losing points. If you drafted an open toe shoe and then you had to don stockings, you’d better make a “move.”

To make things even trickier, each team would have salary caps just like in pro ball. There would be tough decisions to make on draft night. If you selected a Manolo boot in python as your star player, you may have to recruit the $25 Lela Rose from Payless to compensate.

Fashion blogs and magazines could feed news and trend stories into a service like Yahoo Fantasy Shoes. After dinner, women would head to their home offices to do research. “Honey, can you clean up the dishes and put the kids to bed? I need to go online and make some trades.”

I ask my husband what he thinks of my idea. He says it sounds ridiculous. “Why would you waste your time pretending to buy shoes?”

“That’s my point!” I tell him. “Of course we wouldn’t. Don’t you see how silly fantasy leagues are?”

“Fantasy sports are different,” he defends.

“Oh right,” I say. “Because you really are managing a ball team?”

He grins sheepishly. Hey, if the shoe fits…