In between winning the Nobel Prize, shots of rum, bagging 240-pound marlins and banging 140-pound broads, Ernest Hemingway wrote: “The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially.” Did Papa play fantasy baseball? My pitching staff was very good, very brave, and now they’re very dead. Light a candle and cue the bagpipes (those things get me misty every time) in memory of Patrick Corbin, Matt Moore, Kris Medlen and the latest soldier to fall, Jose Fernandez. The literary references aside, the most talked about pitcher in baseball this season is not Clayton Kershaw, it’s not Max Scherzer, and it’s not even Bartolo Colon after an at-bat. The most talked about arm in the game is Tommy John. If ol’ TJ had a buck for every pitcher that has been lost this season to the surgery that bears his name, he’d have $19 – which is $4 more than he made in his Major League career. Thus far, 19 pitchers have blown out their prized possession, with Fernandez the latest to fall and rumors swirling about Andrew Cashner, who was just put on the DL shelf. All of last season, 19 players were lost to Tommy John. To talk some real baseball for a minute, even commissioner Bud Selig weighed in on the epidemic saying, “I’m almost afraid to pick up the paper because of the bad news.” Unfortunately, the bad news Bud was referring to, in the paper, was that it looks like Beetle Bailey will never get out of the Army. Bud then answered a call on his shoe as his toupee fell into his soup. The fact is, no matter how well you drafted, your staff must be feeling the pain, and no amount of penicillin will cure what ails you. It’s time to fire up the jammer-crammer machine©, dive into the deep-end of the waiver waters, and find us some arms that aren’t stitched together like Young Frankenstein. Walk this way, it’s time to jam it or cram it.Please, blog, may I have some more?
If I may take you back to February of fourteen after twenty when Pablo Sandoval showed up to camp straight from a winter in Milan where he learned how to diet, smoke cigarettes, and eat nothing but greens, and this wasn’t greens like lime-flavored Popsicles and moldy cheese. This was healthy greens. On that blessed day, he was wearing a mankini and when he walked into the clubhouse, Bruce Bochy whistled, thinking he was making a catcall at some fine Dominican honey. That was fine Dominican honey, but only in fantasy baseballers’ minds who thought a contract year and 180 pounds dropped in a sauna was a sign of great things to come. Sure, Sandoval could now twerk without needing an oxygen mask, but what had changed? Well, apparently not a whole lot. Right now, he’s hitting around .200 with two homers. Burp. The good news is he’s been incredibly unlucky with his BABIP, his line drive rate is right about his career norm and he’s due to hit more homers. There’s some bad news, his K-rate is up and he’s hitting more ground balls. Even at 133 pounds, he’s not a great threat to beat out infield hits, so ground balls aren’t good, and for a guy that swings at everything, a K-rate is a bit scary. This all goes back to he’s not this bad — this terrible that he’s been. He will get better and can be either picked up in leagues or traded for for (stutterer!) very cheaply. I mean, I wouldn’t even give someone a Donkeycorn for him right now, but a Brain Freeze or a fourth outfielder sounds about right if you’re trying to acquire him. Anyway, here’s some more players to Buy or Sell this week in fantasy baseball:Please, blog, may I have some more?
I know it’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve posted. Well I’m going to make it up to you. Anyone who finds my Facebook profile will get a personalized note mailed to them; I’ll even seal the envelope with a kiss! Hint: my first name is Jeremy.
On this week’s edition of bears and bulls: Doug Fister. Fister is probably better known for his PG-13 name than for his pitching. We’ve all seen team names like “Fister? I barely know her!” and “Fister in her Pujols”, but I’m not here to talk about unoriginal puns. But I am here to talk about the Nationals newest addition to their already dominant rotation.Please, blog, may I have some more?
There are so many Tommy Boy quotes that I can manipulate to start this post, so you choose which one…
a) I can get a good look at Luck by sticking my head up BABIP’s a**, but I’d rather take xBABIP’s word for it.
b) I write fantasy baseball posts for the American working man, because that’s who I am and that’s who I care about.
c) You: “Prince Fielder, Hmmmm, he should get better.”
Me: “This guy is batting .231, which is actually backed up because of the gross groundball rate (11+% jump) and hitting into the shift with a sense of urgency, and all you can say is, Hmmmm, he should get better?”
d) The season is drivin’ along, la-de-da, woo. And you have Justin Morneau batting .338. And then you look at your team. Tires go EEEEEEEEE! Whoa, that was close.
Now let’s see what happens if you have Prince Fielder on your team… You’re drivin’ along, Tires go EEEEEEEE! I CAN’T STOP! “Oh my God, I’m burning alive! And this isn’t a fire sale! No! I can’t feel my legs!” Here comes the meat wagon. And the medic gets out and says, “Oh my God”. New guy’s around the corner puking his guts out…
…Whichever quote you go with, if you own Fielder then consider yourself the new guy puking his guts out. This post is the meat wagon.Please, blog, may I have some more?
As I do every week, I’ll be covering all the bumps and bruises in the would of fantasy baseball. It’d be nice if some of these guys could get their acts together, but hey, then I’d be out of a job.
There were a few notable injuries in the baseball world over the past week, mostly on the hitting side of the spectrum, and I’ll be focusing on those, as well as some other players who just can’t stay away from the trainer’s room in my latest edition of Ambulance Chasers.Please, blog, may I have some more?
Happy Mother’s Day to all the folks out there today with mothers. No, not you pod people! And stop doing that Invasion of the Body Snatchers screech, I haven’t slept in days. Every Mother’s Day, I like to turn my bloodshot eyes toward the mother of all Razzballin’ terms – SAGNOF! Is there a question we scribes get asked more about than where to find the steals and the saves? Maybe, but I ignore all backup catcher queries. Sorry, it’s something they teach up at the fantasy baseball college. When it comes to finding the elusive SAGNOF!, we’re going to have to wade into the deep end of the waiver waters. “Son, you just had a Hot Pocket, you gotta wait 30 minutes!” Thanks, Mom, but I’m a big boy now, and my fake baseball life is infinitely more important than my real life, since I basically punted saves on all my RCL teams and I’ve been drowning ever since. Let’s fire up the Jammer Crammer© machine and see if there’s anything left for us SAGNOF! starved Razzaholics to salvage. Since it is Mother’s Day, I’ll let my mom give her opinion on each player. What greater gift can a son give his mother than an opportunity to say something on Razzball? Damn, I’m cheap. Keep in mind your humble-but-nonetheless-handsome Guru’s mother calls fantasy baseball “Stratty-Matics.” Hey, she’s close, give her credit. It’s time for the SAGNOF! edition of Jam it or Cram it.
If you’re looking for some bonus jams and crams, check out Razzball Radio where Nick and your well turbaned Guru talk jams of the week, Manchurian Candidate, and we’re all left wondering why it’s so hard for the Guru to sit still. Out of Ritalin, thanks Obamacare!Please, blog, may I have some more?
On this day, I’m reminded of the Imagine Dragons song, Demons. “It’s Prince Fielder‘s curtain’s call, it’s the last of all, when the lights fade out all the other players look like an upgrade. They look like an upgrade! Prince Fielder let us down! He should be hell bound! Though he says it’s all for you, stop hiding the truth! No matter what Cecil Fielder would breed. We are still made of greed, my fantasy team is my kingdom come, when will Prince Fielder’s homers come? When will they come?! When you feel my heat, look into my eyes, it’s where my hate for Fielder hides, it’s where my hate hides. Abreu, don’t get too close, it’s dark inside and Fielder might rub off on you. It’s where my hate for Fielder hides, it’s where my hate hides. They say it’s okay if he hits .280 with 85 RBIs and 20 homers around the pole that is foul. I say it’s up to fate, it’s woven in my soul, Prince Fielder is an a**hole!” Usually I’m like don’t sell so-and-so for a DVD box set of the third season of Punky Brewster, but I’d sell Fielder low. Who knows maybe someone in your league won’t think you’re selling low. I’d explore ALL (yes, capped) offers for him immediately before things get worse. Anyway, here’s some more players to Buy or Sell this week in fantasy baseball:Please, blog, may I have some more?
Long, long ago, in a realm us mere mortals would know nothing about, there was a secret assemblage of the Elder Gods, for something of vast importance had come to light. An event of this magnitude is the only thing that can force the congregation of the Elders, for you see, the Elders can’t help but bicker between themselves about who’s power is supreme, whose creations are superior, and who has bagged the hottest chicks. Please, blog, may I have some more?Please, blog, may I have some more?
The hits just keep comin’ for major league baseball players and their fantasy owners.
We’re just a month into the season, and it’s unlikely there are many owners out there who have not been dealt a significant injury to at least one of their players. Oh, you’re raising your hand? Here are two recommendations: 1) stop playing in 8-team leagues, 2) there are healthier forms of self-indulgence than a four-leaf clover enema.
In 2014, we’ve seen more pains, pricks, breaks, strains, pulls and tears in baseball than the amount of times Drake has changed his NCAA/NBA team allegiances.
Being in the know when it comes to a player’s health will always keep you one step ahead of your competition. Here are some ailing hitters (and their possible replacements) to pay attention to in the coming weeks:Please, blog, may I have some more?
Happy early Cinco de Mayo, my tequila-fueled Razzaholics, and welcome back to the Razzball Lounge. We men of letters have donned our sombreros and gathered to celebrate whatever the hell Cinco de Mayo is – hey, I went to a school for dysfunctional teachers in Maine and the only Mexicans we ever saw were picking blueberries and turning John Deere’s into lowriders. We are also celebrating the Razzball revolucian! Yes, Razzball Radio launches this week with Señor Nick, who is currently transporting illegal video equipment across the border as we speak. Good stuff! As we gather in the lounge downing shots of Patron we look back at the first month of the season. There have been hot starts from new meat – Jose Abreu, Charlie Blackmon and Chris Colabello. There have been early season slumps – Miguel Cabrera, Prince Fielder and Adam Jones. And every team is battered and broken with Clayton Kershaw, Bryce Harper, Chris Davis and 422 other players on the disabled list. There’s plenty to celebrate and plenty to berate in the lounge today. Bellying up to the bar we find Sky wondering why he drafted a team that is completely on the disabled list. “Hey, at least Nick Punto is healthy!” *throws up on floor* At the jukebox we find Jay Wrong playing “Mexican Radio” for the 23rd time. “I’m on a Mexican radio, whoa! I just picked up Bobby LaFromboise on waivers!” *bottle smashes above head* New to the Razzball Lounge is stat-boy Dano and his big book of facts who we have strung up from the ceiling for some human piñata-style hazing. “Did you fellas know Babe Ruth’s career wOBA was .510?” *WHACK!* Coming out of the ladies room is the one and only Tehol Beddict clad in just his Sears poncho. “Hey, guys I’ve set up a cock fight out back.” Tehol, where are the roosters? “Whaddya mean roosters?” And here at the pool table is your-humble-but-nontheless-guapo Guru. *adjusts turban, closes eye, aims cue, banks eight-ball off three rails, licks salt, downs tequila, sucks lime,* Viva la Jam or Cram!Please, blog, may I have some more?