In the words of one Champ Kind, “That’s a whaaammy!” Hanley Ramirez left the game last night with a hamstring injury in just his fourth game back from the DL with a torn ligament in his thumb. HanRam will have tests done this weekend but early signs are not good. He did that “Oww! PAIN!”-grab-the-back-of-the-leg move that Giancarlo Stanton owners are no doubt familiar with, and he needed the help of two trainers to get off the field. Manager Don Mattingly said it looked like he’ll miss “…a good amount of time,” and wouldn’t expect him back anytime soon. Don also added, “Hot damn-ley! This screws up all my plan-leys!” That makes two of us, Donny. Ramirez’s rehab for his thumb went so smoothly we should have known some doom and gloom was on the way. In addition to returning ahead of schedule and bursting with confidence (I don’t think I ever heard HanRam speaking so enthusiastically about playing, I guess leaving the Marlins can do wondrous things for morale), Hanley started out mashing right out of the gate, batting .455 with a homer and stolen base. It was too good to be true. Sure, no one thought he was Ironman-ley (III: Gandhi’s Revenge!), but this is tough luck for anyone. Hopefully owners haven’t dropped their Josh Donaldsons, Brandon Crawfords or various other replacements just yet because they could likely be without HanRam for the next 3-5 weeks, if not more.
Here’s what else happened in fantasy baseball last night: Please, blog, may I have some more?
Geez, Roy Oswalt has sure come a far way since the whole “I will only sign with one or two teams” stance as he signed with the Rockies. They’re not necessarily a bad team, but what pitcher wants to come out of semi-retirement to pitch in Colorado? It’s like Smokey the Bear coming out of semi-retirement to work at a cigar shop. “Smokey, we really appreciate the job you’re doing, but could you stop throwing buckets of water on our customers?” That’s Smokey’s boss at the cigar shop. Better yet, a pitcher coming out of semi-retirement to pitch for the Rockies is like I.M. Pei coming out of retirement to work at Home Depot. Roy Rockie Oswalt must’ve really got sick of driving his kids to school and needed something to do. Oswalt is going to assassinate his career ERA. Maybe Oswalt plans to drive his tractor to Colorado and haul dirt until Coors is at sea level. When your third best starter is a toss-up between Tyler Chatwood and Jeff Francis, you’re pretty much guaranteed a starting job, so Oswalt should be with the major league club shortly, but you shouldn’t care. I liked El Roy with the Astros, but it’s all rut-roh in Colorado. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball: Please, blog, may I have some more?
First off, Rudy is safe. We have him in a padded room with only marshmallows to eat. He’s a bit overcome by the absence of color, but it will be a good distraction while Bryce Harper is touch and go. Before we put Rudy where he wouldn’t hurt himself, Rudy said to me, “If Bryce Harper is hurt, will they cancel the rest of the season?” That’s a frown question, bro. Lie down, Rudy. It’ll be okay. Actually, could you lie down with your head hanging off the couch? You’re gonna leave a Soul Glo stain. I’m sure Rudy isn’t the only one feeling a bit woozy hearing Harper hurt himself last night. The entire eye black industry hangs in the balance. He left yesterday’s game with an apparent injury and that turned into an apparent diagnosis of an apparent bad bruise in his apparent side. Thanks for the apparency. This sounds like a day-to-day thing rather than a 15-day DL thing. So the worst thing that may come of this is for the next few days you won’t get as drunk if you take a tequila shot every time someone on Baseball Tonight mentions Harper. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball: Please, blog, may I have some more?
Roy Halladay makes every hitter look like Babe Ruth right after he burped. (Burping was the key to his success; I watched a documentary.) Roy’s gotta hit the Disgraceful List, doesn’t he? I mean, it’s in everyone’s best interest at this point. Watching him is like seeing Carol Channing before someone told her to use a mirror to apply makeup. “How’d I get this lipstick on my ears? Maybe a dab of mascara on the ol’ chin!” You should’ve heard me saying that line like Carol Channing in my head. It’s just real sloppy out there right now for Roy. If he’s not hurt, his fantasy owners may find him in a dark alley and change that. If he is hurt, stop taking one for the team, you gamer you. “I’m a gamer. I grind like I’m old school, Jodeci, going riding roughshod over fantasy ratios…Horatio…Alger, in reverse.” That’s Roy doing beat poetry. At this point, I’d bench him against most teams until he starts piecing together something less craptastic. You might, unfortunately, have the reincarnation of 2012 Lincecum. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball: Please, blog, may I have some more?
Today is the first day of the next month in our lives without Giancarlo Stanton. If you want, I’m holding a candlelight vigil in the garbage can behind Stanton’s house. If you come, don’t make too much noise. We aren’t technically supposed to be there. The good news about his hamstring injury is when he’s limping away from us, it’ll be a lot easier to stay exactly 501 feet away. Before he’d backpedal and it was like we were doing the lambada with 501 feet between us. The bad news is I’m writing this post with tears. Hnfcsdcnnn. That was a big, stupid tear that got away from me. Short circuit my keyboard, tears. I plead with you, so I don’t have to continue. I wonder if I can seal envelopes with these tears. That would be turning lemons into lemonade, right? Ow, I just touched my eyes, and now these lemons are burning my eyes. This is the sourest injury news ever. Make the pain go away, alcohol! Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball: Please, blog, may I have some more?
It’s always about you, Rockie Rookie. Man, Rockie Rookie, you are set up to conquer the world and didn’t leave me sh*t! Like you own the whole goddamn country, Rockie Rookie. (Only funny in Lou Diamond Phillips’ brother’s voice from La Bamba.) Late on Saturday night the Rockies answered my prayers to fix my Mike Mostsuckass 3rd base shituation and called up Nolan Arenado. To make the move happen, the Rockies designated Chris Nelson for assignment. His assignment was to stop sucking. Arenado isn’t the answer to the world’s prayers for clean water and/or a toilet that sprays air freshener into your butt after you poop. He won’t end world hungry and/or make sure everyone can one day appreciate jazz so the people who do appreciate jazz will stop saying, “Aw, man, you just don’t appreciate jazz.” He’s pretty much Pacheco or Nelson with a little more power. Maybe 17 homer power with ten of those coming at home, but A) He has upside. B) He’s in Coors. C) There’s no C. D) The Rockies would be fools to call him up and not play him unless he completely bombs out. E) I don’t feel like going all the way back to A and re-reading, have I mentioned the upside thing? F) What about the fact he’s in Coors? Have I said that? Have I said there’s no C? So, right there, there’s six to ten (I didn’t count) legit reasons to pick him up in all mixed leagues. For serious, grab him. Anyway, here’s what else I saw this weekend in fantasy baseball: Please, blog, may I have some more?
Anibal Sanchez was amazing last night, pitching 8 innings and giving up just 5 five hits with a whopping 17 strikeouts against one of the league’s best offenses. Sanchez has never looked dirtier. Filthy even. I was hoping Manager Jim Leyland would send Sanchez out for the ninth to try for 20 Ks, but Anibal was pulled after 121 pitches. Leyland said he needed Sanchez in the dugout to bum a cigarette. No, Sanchez doesn’t usually smoke but he was on fire last night and always has a spare menthol for Skip. That kind of know-how and pedigree was why I owned Anibal everywhere last year, so of course I don’t own him anywhere this year. I must give it up to our fearless leader, Grey, for coming up with that headline. I almost went with “Bell of the Anibal” or “A Boy Named Anibal.” And those are just terrible. But things are really clicking for the Boy Named Anibal. I once knew a boy named Sue. He got in bar fight with Commodus and Reese Witherspoon, and Reese played the “Don’t-you-know-who-I-am!?” card and everyone got arrested. Well, if you didn’t know Anibal Sanchez before last night you better know him now. 17 STRIKEOUTS! Great Anibals of fire! Sanchez’s previous high was 14 Ks, but he now holds the Tigers record, which has got to peeve Justin Verlander a bit. Relax JV, you had Kate Upton, let Sanchez have this. His new home in Detroit has been good to him. No one wants to win more than 14 games for Jeffrey Loria anyway, right? Please, blog, may I have some more?
Going into yesterday’s game, Gio Gonzalez had a 5.85 ERA and in three of four starts he only threw five innings. I saw the fear in your eyes. Nervousness was percolating just below the surface. You were like Mr. Coffee when he was about to lose his virginity. You were expecting some grinds and instead you were just overheating. Steaming so hard you needed a cup to catch the water beneath you. (How long you think I could keep the visual of Mr. Coffee about to lose his virginity going? Three more lines? Do I hear four?) Finally, the heat was too much, the water dripping too fast and everything began to steam. Quickly, you grabbed your little creamer. She usually likes to put the cream in herself, but you’re just gonna splash it all over the place to avoid a mess on your pants. And that’s how coffee became Mr. Coffee. So, today Gio threw an eight-inning, one-hitter with 7 Ks; his only blemish a Votto opposite-field blast. Things looked awry, making dyslexics wary. Luckily, it’s still freakin’ April and you shouldn’t worry so much. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball: Please, blog, may I have some more?
Yesterday, Krispie Young had a double side of slam and an order of legs. Sorry, I’m hungry. And Krispie’s making me hungrier! Krispie creams the balls and my eyes glaze. Hungry for what, Grey? Shut up, Random Italicized Voice. Outside of China, Krispie flies could only mean one thing — someone’s hot or stealing Salty’s signs. Why do I feel like my cholesterol is going up just writing this? You know, I’ve never had my cholesterol checked. I’d go if the cholesterol checking doctor gave out a stick of butter like dentists give Dum-Dum lollipops. You think anyone knows what the Mystery Dum-Dum flavor is? I mean, anyone at all or is it just some leftover guck from the lollipop machines that happens to fall on a stick? The thing is, and there is a thing, young prematurely balding man, when Krispie gets hot he could hit ten homers and steal ten bases in the matter of two weeks. If you don’t like that sorta thing, you got high standards. Me? I’m wearing sweatpants for the last 230 days straight and picking up Young. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball: Please, blog, may I have some more?
Scenario: Jim Leyland has been a part of a clinical trial to prove cigarettes cause mental illness. On off days, Leyland sits in a hotel room with a monkey and a scientist and they all smoke Camels. All three of them wear nothing but tighty-whiteys and they order out to Papa John’s, which always takes longer than anticipated because they have the pizza man put the pie in a mailbox, so no one knows where they are. After a few hours, Leyland is presented with a few different ink blotches that are clearly just innocuous butterflies. The monkey tries to correctly identify the ink blotches, but the scientist shushes the monkey and waits for Leyland. Inevitably, Leyland always says each ink blotch is Jose Valverde. Second scenario: The closer, who was ineffective last year, is given the closer job again because he’s the best arm in the bullpen. Okay, which scenario seems more likely to you? Agreed, Leyland has officially lost his crackers. “Okay, I know I put some Saltines down on the bench. Where are THEY?!” That’s Leyland after losing his crackers. Either way, Valverde will be joining the Tigers this week and Leyland says he’s the Tigers closer. “Are those cracker crumbs on your jersey, Don Kelly?!” When Leyland walks to the mound to change pitchers, he should just signal to the bullpen by twirling his finger by his ear — the universal sign for he’s crazy. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball: Please, blog, may I have some more?