Wait, what? The Mariners got Jean Segura AND Mitch Haniger for the continually underachieving Tai Walker? The same Haniger who’s third in offensive WAR in the AL (through Friday), first in the AL in runs scored with 16, leading the AL in times on base, fourth in the clubhouse in jersey-chaser takedowns, and first in my heart for being part of the heist that was the Taijuan Walker trade. Coming off a year where he masta-donged 25 and 94 with a .321 BA in AA/AAA last year, the D-Bags felt the urge to dump another diamond in the rough, a la Max Scherzer. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that trade all those year ago. I couldn’t believe at the time and couldn’t believe they weren’t making a bigger deal about it.

I may be going too far as I’m a Walker fan, but Haniger clearly has All-star capabilities and hitting in this loaded lineup is going to keep him relevant all season long. Much unlike myself, it’s really easy to be a fan of this dude.

Here’s what else intrigued me this past week… Take heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings! Not only did opening week provide screen addicts everywhere an opportunity to put down the joystick for a few hours in order to put more focus into fantasy baseball, obsessing over each pitch like a scorned lover, pretending like any of this REALLY matters as we block out a myriad of life problems, but it provided me with an excuse to write a column, which is a big time win in my book. Heck yea! Super Cool! Sweetness!

Kudos to you if you’ve just recently discovered Razzball, for you are in store for the kind of magical journey you’ve only watched on film. Think ‘Hook’, ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’, the ‘Harry Potter’ flicks, ‘The Lord of the Rings’ Trilogy and ‘Basic Instinct’ all in one. Read further if you’d like to see me spread my legs for you, a la Sharon Stone… metaphorically of course.

I am Tehol Beddict and this is Disgrace/Delight. Take heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Long ago, when I was but a young boy, I would decipher Matthew Berry articles on ESPN, strategizing for my fantasy baseball draft with all my closest associates, writhing in anticipation. Soaked like I was just urinated on by a large pack of giraffes, waking up from dreams soaked in sweat, I wasn’t sure if this was all real or not. Did I really help cover up the murder of a stripper last night? Did I sleep with Anna-Nicole Smith? Isn’t she dead? I just adored fantasy baseball! Anyway, this went on for a few years until a grand man by the name of Josephine Morris told me of a certain gentleman, a mustached little man who curiously resembled Don Mattingly. Josephine told me:

“You, Tehol, my closest and must trusted friend, have mastered fantasy baseball. That is, mastered it against peasants like our peanut-brained friends… but if you want to go to another level of metaphysical wizardry, well, then you must go to a a little place where the beer flows like wine and the seagulls flock like the salmon of Capistrano… a little place called… Razzball.com…”

The rest is history. But now you know there was a man named Grey Albright and he saved me… in every way a person can be saved.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings! Last I recall, the Elders and I were passing Thai sticks in the Secret Pool of Kuang Si, discussing some profoundly important subjects while we took turns etching ancient symbols into the skin directly on and surrounding the pubic region. But of course, our bodies are all immaculately smooth, hairless and chiseled, as if made from marble and then formed in the scorching lava of Mount Kilimanjaro. Why does this matter, you ask? The context will be necessary on our journey together through what looks to be a tumultuous 2017. Trust me in this, and the opportunities for massive glory in all forms of life may fall at your crusty feet like droplets of acid rain that will one day doom this planet (but not yet), burning all your self-pity and self-doubt away, peeling your skin off like a viper, you can be born anew, with a clearer vision and a more artful plan of attack. Anyways, I just woke up on an airplane, as it seems I’m headed back to the United States and below we have what one could consider a synopsis of sorts, of what the Elders and I discussed about fantasy baseball and “other things”.

I am the great Tehol Beddict and this is Disgrace/Delight! Take Heed!

Razzball Commenter Leagues are open! Play against our contributors and your fellow readers for prizes. Join here!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings! Ughh, ’tis been a rough couple days for your Lord… getting my butthole re-bleached is one thing, but my current day job forced me to fire someone for the first time in my life. Yes, I was forced to get my Donald Trump on and layoff this bih, who was once my boss. Aaaaaaaaaawkwaaaaaard to say the least. Of course, I made love to her first after doing our usual morning lines in the bathroom, as I wanted to give her one last perfect morning. Telling her to pack her shizz up and letting her know that I would be taking her job five minutes after blowing her back out was an absolute out-of-body experience. I felt the Elders gazing down upon me, guiding my firm hand as I demanded her keys, banned her from the premises, and broke her the worst news she has probably ever received in her life. Lord Beddict will no longer be giving you the pipe and you’re now going to have to buy your own cocaine. Nice gal, she’ll get over it… no she won’t. So yeah, about James Paxton If someone could tell me how a man who throws 100 MPH can somehow only total 3 Ks over his past 13 innings, I’ll service you while you suck you on a blowpop. How many licks does it take to get to the center of Paxton’s psyche? 5 innings, 6 earned, 1 k, 9 hits, but hey, at least he limited the Astros to one walk…

Anyways, here’s what I witnessed yesterday in fantasy baseball. Take heed!!!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings! Back at it again with the fresh Disgrace/Delight posts. Naaaaaaasty! We are here, my goodmen, to discuss the downfalls and risings of some of the most skilled athletes on this planet. I shall do my utmost to lock the derogatory comments in my cranium and not bestow them on the good readers of Razzball, for I am not here to offend, but to teach. I am not here to decry these talented young men, only to track their progress as professional athletes and root them on towards future glory and the type of massive wealth that peasants such as ourselves could truly never comprehend. Buuuuuuuuut, you’ve got to be realistic about these things. For I, favorite son of the Elder Gods, just can’t pass up an opportunity to roast a slap-dick hitting, noodle-armed throwing, ass shaving pansy, that would be better served mowing the lawn at Beddict manor, than being rostered in our fantasy lineups.

I am Tehol Beddict, and this Disgrace/Delight. Take heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings! Ahhh, nothing quite like receiving the honor of writing the Friday night roundup. I imagine its quite similar to receiving the Medal of Honor, the Purple Heart, or maybe a Nobel Peace Prize. It certainly feels a heckuva lot better than the pride of Julio Urias‘ owners on this fine Saturday. Yeah, Urias was a real spark plug for Dodger nation last night..Sorry, did I say spark plug? I meant butt plug. They were hoping for Justin Timberlake, but instead received JC Chavez. We all expected Christian Bale, but the performance was more Christian Slater. 2.3 innings pitched with three earned and four walks sounds more like Jorge De La Rosa than Jose Fernandez. With that being said, I’m not concerned with the outing whatsoever. That’s also possibly because I don’t own him anywhere, and don’t really care either way. Best of luck to you all though, my goodmen!

Anyway, here’s what else I noticed yesterday in fantasy baseball. Take heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings!!! Your liege lord, Beddict, has fallen on disastrous times. My goodmen, I was robbed by a thief in the night, the kind of criminal mastermind that makes Danny Ocean look like a pocket picking peasant. Not only did this despicable bandit gank me for my Mac-book Pro, but he swooped my black diamond encrusted platinum ring, my SMS wireless sports headphones signed by the Elder God, 50 Cent, a beautiful Burberry jacket, some fly-a** Louis Vuitton sunglasses, two Nike sweatshirts, a pair of high-top limited edition Nike Air Force One boots, and two different kinds of cologne. In the hood, we call this the come up of a lifetime. This scum-sucking pilferer hit the mother load, probably thinking he just robbed a professional athlete, when instead it was just poor old Beddict, washed up mankini model turned fantasy sports writer. I’ve never felt such pain, such anguish, giving me the sort of writers block that would make George R.R. Martin not look like a total pile of Hippopotamus shat. I come to you now, begging for your forgiveness. On my knees, begging you for another chance as I feel we were right on the cusp of greatness. Let’s work out the kinks and get back to doing what I was created to do… whatever that may be.

I am Tehol Beddict, and this is Disgrace/Delight. Take heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

And so it begins… are you ready? I SAID, ARE YOU READY!?!?!? Put on your finest man-thong, blaze up a fatty, blare THIS at max volume, and get hyped for opening day. My red eye is gushing so hard right now that I truly need a supersize man-pon. I fully expect this to be the greatest season in MLB’s wondrous history, with my contributions changing the face of fantasy baseball for our children’s children. Remember me for what I become, not for what I am… Or is the other way around? Either way, the season is on the verge of commencing and I’ve yet to lavish upon you my opinions on who will implode and who shall conquer. Fantasy baseball isn’t a game, for it’s a lifestyle and I chose this LIFE. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I am Tehol Beddict, and this is Disgrace/Delight, Pitcher edition. TAKE HEED!!!

Be sure to check out my Football prowess over at the Razzball Football pod (with the OFFICIAL RAZZBALL Game of Thrones podcast starting tomorrow!)

Please, blog, may I have some more?

What a time to be alive! Baseball season is finally within reach! Not in reach, like your delusional mind is telling you about the girl you’ve been obsessed with since junior high and have been in the friend zone ever since waiting for your chance to strike (you’ve got to be realistic about these things), but actually happening! Jay(Wrong), the greatest editor in all of fantasy sports and the Weasley to my Harry Potter, has been up my a** like a 12-inch butt plug about me getting in my content, so here you have it! Ask and you shall receive my goodmen! Today, I tell the tale of the storied third base position. It seems the position has fallen on harder times than Nicolas Cage, as I didn’t respect any of the players outside the top-10 enough to even write about them in the disgrace section. NOT EVEN WORTHY OF DISGRACE? To attempt to put into words how insane that is; that would be beyond my comprehension and would take up my entire day. Or maybe if I had slept a wink last night instead of popping perks with this nice Chinese gal I met at the casino, I’d be able to properly explain. Such is life.

Please, blog, may I have some more?
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