Please see our player page for Stephen Strasburg to see projections for today, the next 7 days and rest of season as well as stats and gamelogs designed with the fantasy baseball player in mind.

Yesterday, Stephen Strasburg went 6 IP, 0 ER, 1 hit, 2 walks, 8 Ks. And, um. That’s roughly one-thousand percent surprising. Take every cat that’s every jumped out of a closet in a movie and put ’em together and you have a catomic bomb of shock and it’s less shocking than how well Strasburg pitched. Take the “I see dead people” twist and put it in The Crying Game “ding dong” twist and that’s nowhere nearly as surprising. Take a surprise party where the guest of honor has a heart attack and you have something, okay, about that surprising. Yet. Dot dot dot. Still don’t trust Strasburg. If you have him, then I wish you well, but it would not be me. Now I’m simply second-guessing whether or not my fears were for naught. By the way, try to say “naught” without sounding like you’re in a movie in South Boston with Ben Affleck. You simply cannot. “Where’s my munchkins?” “I went to Dunkies and they were out.” “Naught?” “Naught.” See what I mean? Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Welcome to my new column in Razzball: The Magazine! Every week I’ll be responding to letters from fans who are in a fantasy crisis. Let’s jump right in and see our first question:

Dear EverywhereBlair, 

I drafted Sixto Sanchez in the first round. I know! I’m a sucker for alliteration. I even named my team, “Sexy Sixto Stacks Stampede.” You told me ADP was a trap and I could draft whomever I want whenever I want! 

Signed, 

Suxto See Sixto Sick

Well, we’ve got ourselves a humdinger for the first mailbag question! Did you hear that Sixto has a sore arm? You really don’t need to be taking pitchers in the first round. But it’s your team, you do you. You can fix your team by drafting Jacob Stallings, and renaming it the Sticky Stallings Smashers. Onwards, to the main event!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Howdy, folks!

Oh how joyous it is to have baseball back! Lineups galore need setting! Waiver wire races have already started! What a time of year.

I’m just glad some of these injured guys have finally hit the IL so I can stash them and scoop up some replacements. Pretty peeved that some guys didn’t hit IL until it was too late to do anything about it for Opening Day.

I hope you had a successful first couple of days. Mine was a mixed bag, but I’m ready for Byron Buxton to go so ham. I know it’s easy to fall victim to inflated hype, but how can you not love this guy for fantasy? If healthy, of course; I imagine he’ll find his way into one of these updates sooner or later…

Alrighty, enough blathering. Let’s get yinz caught up:

Please, blog, may I have some more?

I walked down a dark hallway of Razzball Headquarters, some corner I had never been before. The walls were the color of aquarium gravel. I squinted in the dim light to verify that I had the correct office. I knocked on the door and peeked my head inside, seeing the Fantasy Master Lothario himself, Grey Albright, sitting in an office chair behind of a well-built desk. The image of Don Draper in a sweater-vest.

“Everywhere!” he said, wringing his hands excitedly. He put his hand out for a shake. I reached for it, but he pulled his arm back as if almost touching a hot stove. “Nah-ah!” he smiled and wagged his finger. “Not in the time of Covid!”

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Hello again, Razzgals/bois.

Welp, odds are you done got rekt this week with some injury news one way or the other, especially if you’ve invested heavily in Blue Jays players and a certain MVP candidate on the White Sox. The latter is true for me. Good news is I have my Hardwood Hogs playing for an Elite 8 berth to look forward to tonight. And honestly, if Oral Roberts shocks the world once again, the March Madness fan in me isn’t gonna 100% hate it. I might cry, but some of those tears will be of joy for ORU. Maybe.

Enough about me. Let’s get to those injuries:

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Early yesterday, I was staring out my window, the rain slowly rolling down the glass, and from the outside it looked like tears were rolling down my cheeks. From the inside, it also looked like I was crying, because I was. I dramatically turned away from the window, put my hand to my forehead and fell into my Giancarlo beanbag. “Cuddle me, Giancarlo Beanbag,” I whispered into the beanbag I had dressed in a Yankees jersey. On the stereo, Rob Thomas scream-sang, “I want to take you for granted,” and I thought about that. Had I taken Eloy Jimenez for granted? Was this…that? As the wait for injury news dragged on, I wandered out onto the road and stopped a car to ask them if they heard anything on Eloy, and they said, “Are you crazy get off the freeway?” Was I crazy? Was that what this was? So, Eloy Jimenez is out for the year with a ruptured left pectoral tendon. Now allow me to return to playing terrible Matchbox Twenty songs and sobbing IT’S 3 AM AND I MUST BE LONELY. Obviously, my top 500 and top 20 outfielders were updated. Who knew I’d prefer Alloy Jimenez who has been blended with sturdier metals to improve wear. I wonder if CVS has condolence cards for fantasy teams. Anyway, here’s what else I saw in spring training for 2021 fantasy baseball:

Please, blog, may I have some more?

In Japan, you bond with your coworkers by going to an enkai. You say it like “N-kai,” and the Kai is as in Cobra Kai, not “Kay” as in, “I’m so American I can’t envision speaking any language than N-glysh. The enkai is usually where the office (not the TV show) gets together for some BBQ and beers. Everybody goes to the enkai, even if they don’t like beer and BBQ. Sometimes, Japanese managers conduct official office business at the enkai, which makes it somewhat awkward when they pass out documents to read while you’re navigating grilled meat. Then comes the nijikai, or “second meeting,” when the “cool people” leave the “squares” behind, and they go to a place where there’s more beer, some snacks, and some karaoke. But for the bold — and those who are truly initiated into the office — there’s the sanjikai, or the “third meeting.” This is the event where only the hardened drinkers, the Buddhist teetotalers, and those people trying to forget the horrors of 9-5 hyper-capitalism are found. For the sanjikai, you’re out there not because you have to, but because you want to. Because you’re driven, by some supra-rational urge that verges on the paranormal, to see what’s hidden behind the curtain. You want to suck the marrow out of life and maybe get a bone splinter in your gums. You know the world has made its mark on you, and you want to mark the world before you transit off this plane of existence into the cosmos, awaiting to be reborn on your ascent to Nirvana. You might not get home tonight if you go out to the sanjikai, but that’s OK because you’re willing to sit in the park and watch the stars until first train.

That’s what this third pre-season edition of the Top 100 Starting Pitchers is all about: You want to know what the others don’t know. You’ve probably drafted already, but you’re here to get prepped for who to pick up off the waiver wire and what to do for next year. You, my dear reader, are initiated into my office, and I invite you to the sanjikai of my weekly pitchers series.

This article is probably my greatest contribution to fantasy sports so far, and I hope you enjoy it.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Howdy, folks. As my lil’ bio snippet below says, I am in fact drinking a good dark beer as I touch this up for publication. This eve’s beverage of choice: New Belgium’s 1554.

Okay. Bear with me for a sec, but this is just truly the best time of the year. My men’s Hogs are a 3-seed (for the first time since I’ve been old enough to care) and have at least punched their ticket into the Round of 32. My lady Hogs are a 4-seed and look to do the same Monday afternoon. My Blues are not playing very well, but they’re still in the playoff hunt, by golly. My Liverpool Reds are kinda trash this year, but it’s a lost season with injuries anyway. And my Cards are getting closer to the games actually counting. Point being, all my teams are currently in action! Plus, March Madness has returned! (It’s super weird to think it’s been two full years since we’ve gotten March Madness action, isn’t it?)

Anyway, now that you’ve got the unwanted JKJ’s teams sports update, here are the updates you’re actually here for:

Please, blog, may I have some more?

I’m sure many of you have spent countless hours pouring over Grey’s 2021 fantasy baseball rankings to see who he’s got way higher than anyone else. Grey’s rankings are great but they’re focused on categories so they don’t tell the whole picture for points leagues. For example, average isn’t important for points. Yes a higher average means more hits but you also get points for walks as well. What we’re really looking for is total bases. I still highly recommend that you check out Grey’s thoughts because he knows what he’s doing, but mostly he’s pretty entertaining. 

Now onto points leagues. I crunched some numbers behind the scenes to see who should get shifted in the ranks. Basically made my own simplified version of malamoney’s spreadsheet using the Razzball/Steamer projections and what seems to be the standard scoring system. The result is some cold hard data on who’s going to do what this season. 

Please, blog, may I have some more?

“I did it. It’s done,” Grey said, running his hand through his mustache in splendid celebration. A fire roared in the hearth and cup of sparkling Fresca waited by his side. He pulled on his faux fur thrift store coat, looking every bit the 5’7″ “Legend of Los Angeles” that Fantasy Baseballer Magazine had dubbed him. He moved to his easy chair, reached for the remote, and turned off the National Geographic documentary about the hunting patterns of the Siberian Tiger, which always put him in the mood “to eat the competition” in the draft room. With clear eyes and full heart, he recited his daily mantra, I am the fantasy master lothario. 40 rounds, player upon player upon player upon sleeper. Like a talk show host, he fended off attacks from the left and the right and emerged above the fray, insouciant to what carnage he left in his path.

His mental respite was shattered when Cougs came rushing through the door, home from the grocery store. She whipped off her mask, panting, the twinkle of a tear down her cheek. “Grey, I’m so sorry. Cookie crumbled!” she said.

Please, blog, may I have some more?