Welcome folks, to another round of Bear or Bull. The series is so awesome, I am able talk about animals AND baseball(s). And this week, I guess Walmart. Word. And while the best play on words I could think of involves Starling Marte and one of the cornerstones to an eventual Corporatocracy, well, you know something special is brewing around this parts. And it ain’t just the fermenting kim chee. Am I lost? Maybe you’re lost. More rum for everyone! Yes it’s supposed to rhyme, or else, what’s the point? So yeah, see that perfect line of association I just drew? Point A, animals, straight to Point B, rum. Whoooo! Can we talk about baseball now? Never!

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Adeiny Hechavarria had a heckavagamia against the Phillies on Sunday with a 3-run triple and a grand slam – both against Halladay. These types of games will be few and far between with this guy’s bat – he’s a glove first SS (though that’s what they said about Brandon Crawford and he’s flashing early power) – but tell that to the old Jews in Miami that think of God when they hear his name. I just wish Adeiny didn’t take off for the Sabbath as I had him Friday night in the DraftKings “Can you take down Rudy Gamble?” challenge. I had my worst finish – 15th out of 23 – so I guess the answer to the challenge was “Yes.” We are doing it every Friday so pay attention to Twitter and the comment boards on Friday for the contest link. Anyway, here are some other observations from this weekend’s games:

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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:

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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:

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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:

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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?

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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:

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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:

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The Cardinals said Edward Mujica ‘could be tried as closer.’ That’s obviously after everyone else has been tried and found guilty of sucking. Matheny said, “I’d rather kill a possum in front of La Russa, than have a lead in the 9th inning with the crap we have.” Okay, that was me reading between the lines. He actually said, “See what happens next time we get there. Right now, Mujica’s making good pitches and getting the big outs when we need them.” He never referred to Mujica as the closer. Maybe because he was afraid of spooking him. How do you scare the beejesus out of a Cardinals reliever? Call them closer. *rim shot, triangle, kazoo* I don’t think Mujica is the de facto closer, but I don’t know what de facto means. Is that Spanish? Hernando De Facto was the first to cross the Mississippi, right? Yesterday, Boggs came into the 9th inning, but it was a 4-run lead and when he got into trouble the Cards started warming up Mujica. The writing is on the wall, and it says, “Mujica is next.” I’d grab Mujica and continue to hold Boggs (on my bench). It may just turn out that Edward is The Last of the Mujica’s in the Cards’ pen. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:

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Now, if Clay wants to be called Buchholz, Imma call him Cassius. Clay Buchholz took a no-hitter into the 8th inning and ended with the line 8 IP, 0 ER, 6 baserunners, 11 Ks vs. Tampa. The Jewish Journal’s headline read, “Clay Spins Rays Like A Dreidel.” You know why he’s pitching this well, right? Cause I had nothing positive to say about him in the preseason. That’s spiteful, Clay. Spite is one of the seven deadliest sins. Right after that soup the fat guy ate in Se7en and Paltrow’s career after she stopped sleeping with Harvey Weinstein. “Sleep with the gross, sweaty producer, win an Oscar. Sleep with that guy from Coldplay, do movies with Huey Lewis.” Okay, this is a big step for me, but I’m willing to buy into the new and improved Buchholz with his splitter that he learned at the tail-end of last year. I’m not going out and trading for him, but if you went against my wishes and drafted him, you did good. It looks like you might’ve stole a pitcher late that has number two fantasy starter upside. Though I can’t say that I won’t be rooting against him every step of the way, since I don’t own him. My will vs. your will in a steel cage. My will will rake your will’s eyes. My will fights dirty. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:

Please, blog, may I have some more?