Cabrera To Have Groin Surgery

Late last week news broke that the Lord of Nations superstar, Miguel Cabrera, was slated to have offseason groin surgery.  After almost an entire season of carrying an entire team that was comprised of glorified role players, the franchise player's bean bag couldn't take anymore.  "I has to carry extra testosterone in America very good for team make succeed," said the pre-op slugger moments before he was taken back for surgery.  The eternally grateful owner/manager/general manager of the Lord of Nations was seen coming out of Cabrera's hospital room just before the greatest hitter his generation has ever seen was wheeled to an operating room. "I'll gladly shave that man's coin purse after what he's done for me.  Frankly, I pretty much had to beat people off with a stick that were volunteering to Benjamin Button his ball sack," the still elated Lord of Nations skipper said through a euphoric smile.  "I know that man is about to have a razor sharp blade rip through the ol' potato sack, but even with that thought in my head, I can't help but smile knowing the heights he personally took me along with the rag tag group I surrounded him with."  The rag tag group being referred to is putting kindly the motley crew that surrounded the 5 star 4 stat juggernaut.  Nevertheless, despite a revolving door of supporting cast members, Mr. Triple Crown winner took it upon himself and helped secure his squad a 3rd place finish in what was one of the most competitive fantasy baseball seasons in recent memory.  When the playoffs rolled around and the one his teammates refer to as The Miggity Miggity Miggity Mac was still striding to the batters box despite his gigantic balls needing to be in a wheel barrow, his fellow teammates were left with no other option after seeing such fortitude.  Win the whole fuckin thing.  And the rest is a fairy tale that has become reality.

 Get well soon.  If not, get a really big jock strap and get your ass on the field next May.

Bring My Baby Home

Bring Me My Bucket

Hopefully the above link works.

I tried my best to encapsulate the the pain I've gone through when my baby was taken from me and the joy that would once again be mine when he returns home.  I've done my part and filled out the proper paperwork for my child to be returned.  Now I just need the deadbeat holding him hostage to turn him over to the proper authorities.

I Have Been to the Top of the Mountain

I'll start off by tooting my own horn (of construction). I'm fucking awesome. I truly am the greatest fantasy owner the likes of this league has ever been graced. Of all the past champions, I'm pretty sure I'm the championest. That being said, don't be mistaken. I'm completely serious. As soon as I saw that some moron left Aramis Ramirez available for me to bolster my playoff blitzkrieg, I knew the Puckett Bucket was all but mine. Nevermind the fact that it's current stable boy's existence is still highly debatable at this point and the mere thought that The Bucket will most likely go the way of Omar Little and see it's days come to an end on the streets of Baltimore keeps me up at nights. I know that soon my baby will find it's way back to it's maker and rest comfortably in my warm embrace. To all you feeble serfs out there, just know that I have all the intentions of being a just lord. I too was once a lowly peasant filtering through pig shit just hoping to find an undigested corn kernel, but now I feast at the bountiful bosom of The Bucket. It wasn't easy, but I made it inside the castle walls. That being said, don't be fooled, not everything is golden under my reign. I logged onto the ol' blogosphere only to find that my most recent post was made following the draft. Utterly unacceptable. I can only promise to try harder next year. I sincerely hope that I am remembered as a champion of the people, and that my loyal subjects will sing songs about The Golden Age of tBBFBL.

We are now into the offseason which means the glory that is March is only 5 months away.  This draft needs to be a good one.  If we need to call Sally Struthers and setup a "for only pennies a day" campaign to get you pussies to the draft, please let the proper authorities know (the commish).  We are all now fantasy adults, everyone knows what it takes to be a champion.  I'm living proof that attacking the draft with a ferocity never before seen by man results in hardware.  I'm pretty sure it was all clinched when everyone was a little too afraid to get wet and left me, the lone klansmen, on the back deck showering in champagne in what turned out to be a harbinger of reality.  Get yo' mind right fools.