Guess who’s back? Back again! No, that’s not The Greek God of Walks, Kevin Youkilis, sufferer of chronic back pain, singing. Besides, it’s “who’s back,” not “whose back.” We’re not trying to identify a back! Byron Buxton‘s back, baby, yeah. With every positive reaction, there’s an equal opposite negative reaction, or so said Einstein when he was fiddling with refrigerator magnets. And the negative reaction to Buxton coming back is Aaron Hicks hit the DL. Too bad, so sad. Buxton didn’t do much in his first stint in the majors, but he could be easily as good as Schwarber, Sano or any other rookie nookie that’s got your cookie all melty. I would grab Buxton in every league. I’m excited. Uppercase yay! Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:Please, blog, may I have some more?
After the first two homer-game, I was like, “Yo, Grey, stop twirling your mustache and trying to squeeze into your Z. Cavariccis from high school and check out Travis Shaw.” And I did. Only, I wasn’t that impressed. He had five homers in 77 games in Triple-A. Then, a week or so later, he had his 2nd two-homer game and I was like, “Yo, Sir Hairlip-A-Lot, those Zubaz look awful on you, and maybe you look at Shaw’s numbers again.” And I did. His ‘big’ year in Double-A saw him hit 16 homers with a .221 average and again I came away yawnstipated; must be he’s showing some Maas appeal. Then, yesterday, he went 4-for-4 with two runs and is hitting .371 in 22 games, and I was like, “Yo, Fantasy Master Lothario, just let Cougs clean out your closet for you and really delve into Shaw’s numbers!” No, I don’t know what delve means but it sounds smart when I’m talking to myself. I’ve said it before, but Shaw feels exactly like a Maas appeal-type player. I bet after September he never even plays regularly on the Sawx again. But now suddenly you’re worried about the future? You weren’t when you were writing to the National Institute of Health about having nacho cheese classified as a vegetable. Get a 401K and grab Shaw until he stops hitting. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:Please, blog, may I have some more?
Whatever happened to Flavor of Love? That show was my jizzoint! And Rock of Love, its companion piece, was the Better Call Saul to its Breaking Bad. You can’t tell me those two shows went off the air because Flavor or Brett found love. They were both likely married when the shows aired. It wasn’t about love, it was about meeting incredible people and finding out about other cultures..and watching girls fight! So, Matt Boyd rang ’em up and rang ’em down (Is that the saying? Let’s say it is!) with a line of 7 IP, 1 ER, 7 baserunners, 2 Ks. Boyd came over to the Tigers in the David Price trade, which is different than the Star of David trade, which sent a necklace to Bernie Hermowitz for a mah jong set. Sadly, Boyd is a streamer for most mixed leagues with his 91 MPH fastball and likely 6 to 7 K/9. In his next start, he gets the Royals again, and no matter what the Stream-o-Nator says, I wouldn’t touch him, not unless Mo’Nique’s taking him under her wing at Charm School (another great show!). Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:Please, blog, may I have some more?
Does this happen to people? You’re working on something, and listening to certain tunes and that informs the way you go about your work. I’ve never had a real job in my life, so I don’t know how this works for those. Does a toll collecting juggalo listen to Insane Clown Posse while working and violently throw change back at drivers? Is this why a building’s roof caves in because the construction crew was listening to Because I Got High by Afroman? Or if you were to suddenly change a hitter’s walk-up music from say Next Episode by Dr. Dre (which seems to be at least one hitter’s song on every team) to The Pina Colada Song would that change everything? I don’t know, but I’m a deep thinker, and I saw Johnny Cueto‘s start yesterday and thought he had to be listening to the Silver Jews, specifically this one section, because that gets me so jacked I could jackhammer a driveway with my foot. I took a hammer to it all! *banging foot on cement* Right?! Okay, maybe it’s me. That’s why we’re having this one-sided conversation, to better understand each other. Yesterday, Cueto threw a farkin sparkler — a farkler, if you will — 9 IP, 0 ER, 3 baserunners, 11 Ks, ERA down to 2.61. Cueto’s the bomb dot gov. He’s almost exactly in line with what he was doing last year when he had a 2.25 ERA in 243 2/3 IP. And, if anything, he’s actually pitching better this year, lowering his walk rate from 2.4 to 1.7. For whatever reason, he seems to stay out of the conversation for the best pitchers in the major leagues, but yesterday he took on Max Scherzer (4 2/3 IP, 5 ER) and took a hammer to it all. A hammer to it all! Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:Please, blog, may I have some more?
I’m here with Giancarlo Stanton in the hospital. No, I’m not here to direct Giancarlo to put the hospital gown on backwards. That was a happy accident. I’m also not here to try to convince new parents in the maternity ward to name their daughters, Giancarla or Ginacarlo or Ginacarla. The flowers everyone sent were beautiful, by the way. Every time he falls asleep I sprinkle flower petals on him like he’s Mena Suvari in American Beauty. Whoever sent the balloon, “Get Well Soon, My Fantasy Team Needs You,” you should be ashamed. Can you not think of anyone else? At least think of me! On the fo’serious for a full second, in 2013, when Showtime aired the inspiration for True Detective that was trying to solve the mystery on whether or not anyone in the Marlins front office knew anything about baseball, Giancarlo was out for a knee operation. Then last year, Mike Fiers did what many of us dream of, but only a few of us can visualize in its fullest, put a ball on Giancarlo’s face. Now, he’s out for four to six weeks with a broken hamate bone. I don’t doubt mi novio can hit 50 homers one year, but he kinda needs to stay on the field to do it. Hopefully, one of these years we see it. I have to go now, he’s waking and likes his Jell-O at room temperature, so I have to remove the cold Jell-o from my rectum and hope it’s warmed. Coming, Giancarlo! Literally! Anyway, here’s what else I saw this weekend in fantasy baseball:Please, blog, may I have some more?
Are you all like me? Do you spend hours and hours contemplating how to maximize the value out of that last roster spot currently occupied by a fringe player you aren’t sure about? It’s crazy, we spend all this time leading up to the draft analyzing everyone, then, for me at least, once the season begins, it’s all about contemplating guys on waivers in bottom 20% ownership range. I know that if I can figure who, among these guys will climb up the ladder in value/ownership, he can either make my team’s season, allow me deal him to someone else in the league for an underperforming proven commodity, or potentially for an elite player as part of a package deal with a medium-value player. Thus, really understanding the bottom 20% of available players can actually allow you to drastically improve your roster if you know to leverage it.Please, blog, may I have some more?
The title’s not to be confused with a Wahlburger. By the by, Marky Mark was at my gym the other day. My man’s short. He looked like a Caucasian Altuve. Steal some bases, Marky Mark! You know, there’s nothing quite as frustrating as setting your weekly lineup and having your star go down the moment games begin on Monday. It’s more frustrating than the person in front of you trying to locate exact change. Use your debit card! What do you mean you’re going to see if there’s some loose change in your car ashtray? Cars don’t even have ashtrays anymore! In the preseason, I supposed that Hanley Ramirez would need to be moved to shortstop at some point, unable to handle The Green Monster. Yesterday, Hanley got a taste of Wally. The Red Sox said it’s a shoulder sprain, which could mean he’s back in a few days or out until July. Yay, specifics! On a related note, a Red Sox reporter from The Boston Globe tweeted in the 2nd inning, “It’s 4-0 Rays. Red Sox season could be done soon at this rate. Losses and injuries piling up.” I’m in no way a Red Sox fan, but really? Done because you’re losing in the 2nd inning of an early May game and your team is practically at .500? Wow, is that guy a Masshole. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:Please, blog, may I have some more?
The Diamondbacks decided now is the time to call up Yasmany Tomas! Hold on, exclamation mark, let’s examine. !, “Do we have to? I’m a sucker for excitement.” Tomas was only hitting .190 in Triple-A. !, “Hmm, this isn’t gonna end well.” The Diamondbacks aren’t exactly setting the world on fire. !, “It’s getting better.” But they have been more than fine in the outfield, and he can’t play 3rd base. !, “Oh, that.” With a karate kick and few words, Diamondbacks GM, Dave Stewart, said Tomas would be a bench bat. !, “I’m out of here.” Stewart said he would’ve liked Tomas to stay in Reno longer, but he was already on the 40-man roster, so they called him up. Yasmany said, “Who ate my English Muffins? I wrote my name on them! Hello? Amigos?” Tomas is fine as a flyer in deep leagues in case he catches on, but it doesn’t look like he’s going to get much playing time out of the gate. Assuming he can get through said gate. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:Please, blog, may I have some more?
All hail his Grace, Tehol of House Beddict and House Razzball, first of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of Fantasy Baseball, and Protector of the Realm.
Thank you, thank you. I am honored to sit here before you now, typing away on this astonishingly torturous throne. Though it’s agonizing to ensconce my tantalizingly toned glutes upon this chair forged from the swords of the vanquished, I’d be deceiving you, loyal subjects of Razzball, if I was to inform you that it didn’t put the wenches into the kind of frenzy I’ve only witnessed after a group of aborigines I was adopted by for five memorable years, cut the throats of six dingo’s, and dropped their writhing corpses into the Tasman Sea. [Jay’s Note: What?]
Ah, where to begin… I was a orphan from my birth, in what would have been the 12th year of the reign of our last great and powerful Targaryen King, dumped in an empty stall in the Scribe’s Hearth, where acolytes practiced the art of letters for those who had the need. The course of my entire life was set in stone on that glorious day, when I was discovered by an acolyte who brought me to Archmaester Grey. Grey, who’s rod, mask, and immense c*ck collection were silver, looked upon my squalling grace and announced that I might actually prove of use one day. Grey told me I was destined to become the greatest man thong model in our world’s history, and then, after traveling the world, flexing my cheeks for money that was beyond my wildest dreams, and sleeping with countless D-list celebrities, I would return to the house of Razzball to put my finest talent to use: Mixing fantasy baseball with quotes from Game Of Thrones, otherwise known as the greatest show in the history of the universe. [Jay’s Note: Eh…] Many other websites write multiple posts on this show, but none have the background to answer all your questions. Any fool can watch the TV show and do an episode recap, but only a true legends read the entire series in two weeks, devouring the history of the GOT world like Kardashians do rapper “D”. If you haven’t read these fascinating stories, or at the very least, watched the show, fear not, for I won’t look down upon you like peasants. Though, I will pity you, for the plain and simple truth that you’re omitting the greatest story ever told from your lives, and it pains me deeply to see you go down this treacherous and lonely path. Spoiler alerts ahead…Please, blog, may I have some more?
If you had 75 hours into the season for when Joakim Soria would become the closer in Detroit, you win a brand new car*! *Prizes not included (there’s no car; stop being greedy, you instead get words pieced together by the Fantasy Master Lothario). The Tigers’ pen is more of a pencil and a dull one at that. Where for art thou, Willie Hernandez? My kingdom for Todd Jones! Poopie Grande by any other name is still Poopie Grande. That was Shakespeare, you ignant boo-boo! The Tigers did get better yesterday with Joe Nathan, hitting the DL with a flexor strain in his elbow. Like when you remove that hair from your lip mole, it’s addition by subtraction. For those of you that drafted Soria, well done. Hopefully, he keeps the job all year. If Barry Manilow can find love, anything’s possible. By the by, all this time I thought he put the emphasis on Dee in Mandy. Guess I was wrong. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:Please, blog, may I have some more?