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?

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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?

Sure, these aren’t your slightly older brother’s Yankees. Even Mel Hall would roll over in his Aryan cellmate’s arms if you were to compare these Yankees with the early-90’s Yankees. Still… Again and this time put a little sting on it… STILL! Mr. DeMille, Matt Moore looks ready for his close-up as he announced, “I am big. It’s the other pitchers that got small.” The Yankees can usually take a walk, and Moore’s on the wild side when the guys and four girl readers go, ‘Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo.’ Yesterday, Moore only gave up two hits and three walks through eight innings while chipping in nine Ks. His season ERA now sits at 1.04. Sure, that’s gonna come up a bit, but I ranked him 16th overall for all starters for a reason. That reason is his stuff is nasty. Nasty as in good not nasty as in bad with that bad not being bad bad, he’s good bad. Kapeesh? Looking for a pitcher then can give you 200 Ks and a 2-something ERA then look at Strasburg. Looking for a guy that can get you the same amount of Ks and a low-three ERA, but will come a lot cheaper in a trade? That’s all the Moore reason. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:

Please, blog, may I have some more?

“The Nats Don’t Play,” was almost the title, but that’s too raw for all you suckas. It’s too cutting. It cuts the quick and bleeds ever-so-slightly that irritates you when you cut a lemon for your Arnold Palmer. Y’all can’t hang with my chinchilla fur that I’m wearing in my picture. (It’s just off my shoulder; you can’t see it.) B-Real said it best, “You don’t know where I’m going cause you haven’t been where I’ve been, understand where I’m coming from?” The Nationals know where I’ve been. They’ve dealt with the same thing as me, only they had to pay Zimmerman millions of dollars to get what I got. Which is an ulcer. Thanks, doode! I’ll send you the bill for the Zantac I’ve had to take for the last two years. The Nats called Zimmerman into their office and said, “You only have a hamstring issue, but if it’s anything like the injuries you’ve had in the past that have lasted about 60 days past when they were supposed to, we’re bringing up our best prospect, Anthony Rendon. We’re gonna tell everyone that it’s only for a few weeks while you heal, but we hope you don’t come back until July and we can trade you to the highest bidder. What? No, we don’t validate!” Rendon is gonna be a great one…some day. Damn, the fantasy baseball fortune cookie ending! Yeah, I’m not sure he’s ready just yet, but he’s worth a flyer in all leagues. I grabbed him in one league where I have Moustakas, because I’m tired of seeing that gyro-eating-motherfu– Let’s just say I’m tired of Moustakas. Best case scenario, Zimmerman has a set back and Rendon stays up and hits for a solid average and gives high-teen power with some very light speed. Another scenario, Rendon hits, Zimmerman returns and the Nats gutter ball Espinosa’s value and move Rendon to 2nd. Most likely scenario, Zimmerman returns and Rendon is demoted. Worst case scenario, Rendon shows up at your house at 3 AM and asks to sleep on your couch, seems fine at first then he tells you he has no place to live, stays for months, doesn’t ever flush the toilet or fill up the Tang in the fridge then starts dating your aunt, eventually marries her, making him your uncle, a title he insists you call him. Anyway, here’s what else I saw this weekend in fantasy baseball:

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Matt Harvey was better last night. Better than Stephen Strasburg. In a battle of two of the NL’s most exciting young pitchers, Matt Harvey dominated again, pitching 7.0 innings, giving up just 4 hits, 1 ER and striking out seven. Harvey currently leads fantasy leagues in “Players You Wish You Drafted.” Stephen Strasburg countered pitching 6.0 innings, 2 ER (4 R) and struck out six. St. Rasburg battled chants from the NY crowd “Har-vey’s better! Har-vey’s better!” Ouch. How could they turn on you so quickly, Stephen? And for a younger, sexier fantasy ace. Well, if there was ever a time to sell off your Matt Harveys for gold and fame, now is good. Harvey was filthy again, touching 99 mph several times last night, he was throwing some serious cheese (his fastball has averaged 96.1 mph this season) and the mighty Nationals couldn’t touch him. The guy’s got gas. Flatulence jokes aside, Harvey moves to 4-0 (the first Met to win his first four starts of the season since David Cone) with a 0.93 ERA and has given up just 10 hits all season. Harvey’s K-upside makes me love him more than I care to share in print, but if I can get a top 20 player for him I’m making a deal. Curt Schilling said if he’s starting a franchise, he’s going with Harvey over Strasburg. Well, that’s just your opinion, man. We know what happened to 38 studios so maybe Big Schill isn’t the guy to ask if you’re trying to run a successful business. Strasburg, who has a 3 losses despite a 2.96 ERA, was upset about the crowds chant, responding with his own chant, “Must pitch better. Better than Matt Harvey. I will be better, faster, stronger than Matt Harvey.” Chill Stras, obsessmuch? Matt Harvey did get the better of the Nats last night but either way going forward, clearly, these two will be among fantasy’s best.

Here’s what else happened last night in fantasy baseball:

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Derek Jeter screams “Ankle!” Yanks scream “Uncle!” Well, you know you can’t spell “My ankle” without Minka Kelly. She couldn’t stop at just Jason Street, could she? Minka used to love his enlarged pro stats. Oh, well, let the haters hate, right, Minka? I hear ya, girl. A’la Clubber Lang, “Let me know if you want a real, mustachioed man!” On a funny somewhat related story, about a year ago I was at Kennedy Airport, right in front of me in line at Starbucks was Minka Kelly. I couldn’t care less about the Yankees, but I know what part to play in what situations to be the most obnoxious. So, with my best heavy New York accent, I said, “You better not break Jeter’s heart like you did to Jason Street.” She looked like she wanted to blow a rape whistle. So, it was announced Pasta Diving Jeter would not be returning until after the All-Star Break. If you draft guys based on the “I’d Do Him” scale, you just got screwed, so this is bittersweet. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:

Please, blog, may I have some more?