Trading Block or Chopping Block

In a still young season, many teams are finding themselves in unfamiliar places and are undoubtedly looking for answers. Well may I serve up a little observation that may lead to a solution. The last 4 teams to place specific players on the chop....ahem, trading block are as follows: Twinks and Bears, Pucketteers, Re-Tods, and Frank the Tank. Their current places are as follows: 7,8,9, and 10. Gross, I know.
One could only imagine the pressures an employee feels when he finds out that his services are no longer appreciated by the bossman. Imagine being told in the early morning meeting that you would be laid off at the end of the day, how hard would you work? I'm not sure what I'd do, but I would never have to buy staplers or those awesome rubber page turners again. And I'm not talking about mailroom workers being told they are disposable, some of these players are perennial all-stars. Some of which include: Matt Holliday, Jake Peavy, John Lackey, Alfonso Soriano, hot new comer Kelly Johnson, and many others. Some of the convicted are not seasoned vets like Lackey or Soriano. One of the victims with his neck stretched across the stump is rookie phenom Gordon Beckham. Beckham refused comment for this story as he finds it to painful to acknoqledge. There are reports from the Pucketeers clubhouse that he hasn't shaved for days and that he was seen taping up razor blades to swallow. Why was he taping them you ask, because the poor basterd felt he didn't even deserve the dignity of a totally successful suicide. There is no doubt that this public display of disinterest may be contributing to his earthworm testicle low batting average. "He was so excited to be drafted by a team that comes with as much clout as The Pucketteers," said Gordon's father, Baxter. "As soon as he realized his name was Gordon at the age of 4 he went into a 5 year funk, but as depressed as he was then, we atleast found him with undiluted bleach and a funnel, atleast then he felt worthy of a real suicide."
Fortunately, not everyone is as fragile as the young Beckham. Veteran Jorge Posada of the Frank the Tank army is not happy with the decision, but he gets it. "I swear I thought this guy had a man-crush, or even a straight up crush, on me and then I see this splattered on the league message board." "I mean c'mon, I've atleast earned some respect after all the years I've given to this club." Upon completion of the interview, I tried to have the rusty right shouldered catcher crack a smile. I gave him the obligatory "Hip Hip" and eagerly awaited the response. Blamo, middle-finger to the face. No way a catcher with complete job security does that, no way.
There are many players having sub-par seasons thus far, but its hard to ignore the facts facing these annual power-houses. These are humans we are dealing with. Act accordingly.

Middle-School Fad Hits Fantasy Locker Room

It is all too often said that America's athletes are role models for America's youth, but in one special case in New Orleans, Louisiana, America's youth have been copied by some of America's athletes. A past time across the country's school yards that has been around for years has recently swept through the locker room of one of the Backstop Boys New Orleans affiliates. The past time I am referring to is a practice that many national media publications are calling "The Choking Game" and the locker room I am referring to is that of the aptly named Re-Tods. In this "game" a person either chokes himself or has a friend choke him until he loses consciousness. The person being choked then wakes up in a breif state of euphoria that some compare to being high. It is a free high that will never test positive in baseball's expansive drug testing. It is this fact that makes it almost inevitable to catch on across the league.
Only 2 weeks into the season, the Re-Tods were essentially the walking wounded with numerous tennants on the Disabled List. The Re-Tods General Manager doubted that he could have this many baseball related injuries this early in the season and soon began an internal investigation. There was one person in his locker room he knew he could count on to tattle if there was any foul play amongst the athletes. It took only an offer of +5 mana and a character attack bonus of +3 and Hunter Pence ratted out all the guilty parties. "I saw Mr. Rollins place his hands around Ian's neck untill he went night night, I told them it was wrong, but they didn't stop," said the "Avatar" fan as he was applying blue face paint in a mirror. "Ian fell down and his foot twisted under him, I knew it was a big owie, but he didn't cry." "Shut-up you little bitch!" said veteran Cliff Lee as he overheard Pence giving this interview. Pence stated that Lee was the ring leader of "The Chokers", the name the group addicted to asphyxiation has given themselves. Pence later told me that Lee himself was a victim of a pass out when he fell down awkwardly and strained his abdomen. As of now the only two confirmed choke related injuries are Lee and Kinsler, but suspected "Chokers" also on the DL include: the aforementioned Jimmy Rollins and Astro veteran Lance Berkman, bringing the alarming total to 4. One can only suspect that this epidemic is much more widely spread, not only in this particular locker room, but throughout the entire BBFBL. "How do you test for something like this?" said another BBFBL GM that requested he remain anonymous. It has been reported by numerous media outlets that some people even masturbate while being choked to heighten the experience of ejaculating. When I asked Pence if he had any information on this subject, he giggled for minutes before he was able to reply. "I'm only into one of those things, teehee, but I'm not telling which." "Oh shit yeah, choking while choking is badass!" said Re-Tod'er Magglio Ordonez as he placed astonishing amounts of jheri curl juice in his locker, way more than one could ever imagine he could use on just his hair in one season.
Is this a case of art imitating life or life imitating art? Whatever the case, why can't America's youth just go back to shooting up with HGH. Atleast that produced a superior product on the field. Either that or have cameras placed in locker rooms because people passing out is funny shit.

Texas Catcher has Giant Honor Bestowed

In what would turn out to be a bitter sweet day, Texas Rangers catcher Jarrod Saltalamacchia received a bit of good news following the bad bit he received upon hearing that he made it to the disabled list. "I was sitting on the trainer's table when my cell phone rang, it was my agent" said the beat up backstop. "To have an award named after me at such a young age is quite the honor." The award the journeyman catcher is referring to is the "Salty", an award given out in the Backstop Boys Fantasy Baseball League. In what turned out to be a draft day memory that shall live forever in infamy, Saltalamacchia was drafted by Nacho Daddy in the first 5 rounds, all despite the fact that he was the signal caller for the Rangers AAA affiliate. "I'm pretty pumped, I heard some retard (beefeater 2.0) drafted Eric Byrnes in the 3rd that year and he tore both of his hamstrings." The award is the brain-child of a brilliant man who blames his early hair loss on the fact that the only realization his head could make based upon the wisdom it houses is that any man with such cranial capacity must be infinitely old and should resemble such. (The award creator was contacted but refused comment due to being absolutely humble when dealing with his wonderful idea.) Each year, a "Salty" will be voted on by the members of the league and a plaque/trophy which will be unveiled later will be given to the lucky GM who selected the newly annointed. The purpose of the award is to find the highest/most disappointing pick of a draft. Please vote for 2009's "Salty" award winner to the right.

Bud Light Lime Sales Soar in South Louisiana

A weekend recap for those who couldn't make it and those like me that were there but some things are still a little blurry. Friday night I arrive at the commish's house and he immediately shows me an ice chest of beer with about 3 cases of beer in it and asks me if I think it will be enough for the weekend. Earlier on in the week he told me he split about 26 cases of beer with someone and that was what we'd be drinking for the weekend. So ofcourse, I figured the quantity was fine, but the absurd amounts of Bud Light Lime in the cooler was ridiculous. He then tries to sell me on the scurvy preventer by saying it tastes like Froot Loops. Yeah, thats what I want beer to taste like. We arrive at the fine facilities of Copper Mill Golf Course where the commish gives us all a reminder that this is his place of employment and that there is a big tourney going on and we need to remember our manners. Five minutes later, as we are all standing around admiring the "2010 Fantasy Convention (you guys are cool)" welcome sign, the commish asks Christian to show his tennis ball-sized testicle to his boss. Remember manners, check.
After divvying up the beer among the 7 drinkers and watching the Lime get avoided like the plague, a round of golf kicked off. After what started as a competitive round, ended up with no more beer and a failed covert piss on 18 fairway resulting in urine all over yours truly. It was this moment that defined my day. The golf round ended and the moment I have been losing sleep over for weeks commenced. It started off with Liv staying true to form and getting Mr. Wright. Things pretty much went as scheduled untill 1st bomb drop of the draft went off. If you had Ben Zobrist in your office pool as first completely unexpected selection, congrats. My first 3 rounds pretty much went as I rehearsed, but by round 6, beer kicked in and I drafted Herniated Roberts. Second base. Baltimore Orioles. Although I did manage to redeem myself in Round 8 by allowing myself the option to change my team name to "kickem in denards". My personal highlight of the draft was when Jon Lester was taken and the commish kicked a folding chair only to crumple and hit the ground like a wet rag, then was beaten with a ice chest lid a la WWE. Round 10 a minor miracle happened and something that I think should be added to the Constitution occurred. Fantasy magic touched us all when the Keith Law fournicater selected Ian "Shotgun" Stewart. A wonderful follow-up to the shotgun was made in the 12th when Andrew Bailey was drafted, then Soria....could it be... then Heath Bell......do I smell.....Francisco Rodriguez.... a closer run!!! New owners of Heath Bell and Soria celebrate by humping in front of the draft board with what I think should be our league logo, suck it Jerry West. Way to go SFDF for climaxing the run with K-Rod without even being present to feel the suspense.
6 hours into the draft and we are reaching the rounds of the early teens, I become antsy and start rushing everyone along (apologies to all those present and all those I called to rush). Mr. Brad Hawpe joins the ranks with Ian Stewart and the rest is a blur. Apparently Ben Sheets was named Mr. Irrelevant and a new league name was born (I nominate Joey Fatone as the name of our MVP trophy). Post draft celebrations kicked off with some frisbee game and a trip to the appropriately named "Happy's". I offer to buy the birthday boy (the relevant one) a shot as the soothsayer promises regurge. One car bomb later, our good ol' friend Papa John's makes a second appearance. A few bar shenanigans and a taxi ride with the uber-talkative Mike (sarcasm font necessary for the preceeding) and we called it a day around 4. The next day as I prayed for an I.V. drip on my cross country journey, I could only hope that the previous day is an inkling of the festivities to come this season.

Wright Steals a Page from Hollywood

After an injury plagued season in 2009 and a rough spring, David Wright received a great piece of news this morning and a great piece of ass this afternoon. In a fantasy league yet to be named, Wright got word that he is all but assured to be selected 1st overall in the upcoming draft. "I was a little worried that people would doubt my abilities, but I have a lot of faith that my projections are going to live up to all the hype," said a confident albeit exhausted Wright. The New York Mets 3rd sacker immediately went out to cruise the evening scene in Florida since there is really no significant nightlife being that most of the residents in the state go to bed around 5:30 pm.
Wright soon saddled up to the bar and ordered himself and his entourage a round of strawberry daiquiris and demanded that each be served with a "crazy straw". A bystander overheard the bout of cockiness and took exception. Following his strawberry daiquiri apparrently Wright wasn't done, he then proceeded to knock down a white russian. The bystander that happened to over hear the outlandish demand just so happened to be the new Oakland Athletic, Kevin Kouzmanoff. In an attempt to bring the newly ordained "1st overall" back to earth, or maybe a good ol' fashioned attempt to pull a robbery on the females swooning over Wright, Kouzmanoff mentioned to the young ladies that they "should not cream your panties just yet". "I am well aware of the announcement, and it turns out that the league already has 30 keepers, so you are hoping to fuck the 31st pick overall," said the cock-blocking Russian. "Better than hoping to fuck a Jake Fox platoon partner, and I do mean partner," quipped a fist clenching Wright as he seemed to have life being breathed into his bowed chest. Before another word could be said, Wright delivered a left and communism was again defeated a la Balboa vs. Drago. "Frenchy Francouer and I just watched Bull Durham, and the scene where a drunk Costner gives Tim Robbins the lesson in the bar to always punch with your non-throwing hand was still fresh on my brain," said the now handsy Wright as he groped his prize. I know it is early in the year, but there seems to be a lot of fight in young David Wright.

Texas Dealership has Odd Injuries

-Special to the AP from Paul Macintosh of San Antonio, TX- In what has to be one of the oddest epidemics to ever sweep through any office place, Colton Lane Ford dealership of San Antonio is minus upwards of 7 employees due to a condition known as Erupted Reticulum of Intestinal Cutaneous, or more commonly known as "ERIC". Persons affected by this extremely painful condition suffer a rupture of the side wall in there intestines due to any number of activities, but in this particular case, laughter. Apparently, on March 3rd, a middle-aged Army nurse who would not release his name for this story walked into Colton Lane Ford with the thoughts of making a deal for a new vehicle. The confident nurse strolls into the dealership and immediately asks if the dealership accepts trades for new vehicles. Upon finding out that the dealership did in fact accept trades, the annonymous nurse pulls up a chair and boldly proposed an offer to Ryan Tugwell, the unfortunate salesman that was stuck working with the hopeful wheeler dealer. For a 2009 Ford Escape, the nurse offered his banged up '96 civic he referred to as "Cindy", a ball of twine he has collected since he was 19, and then had the gile to ask the salesman if he could also get first right of refusal for the 3rd car received in the dealership's next shipment. While trying to remain professional, young Mr. Tugwell asked to be excused from the make-shift negotiation and walked back to the employee breakroom where he repeated the nurse's offer to his fellow employees. It was at this point that the breakroom exploded into laughter causing 7 employees to come down with the aforementioned "ERIC". "I am just a young man trying to work my way through college and then this happens," said a wincing Tugwell through the beeps and drips of the hopital apparatuses that coursed through his veins. It is unknown at this time if the nurse is being investigated for 2nd degree assault, but one can only assume some recourse will be pursued being that his offer was so ludicrous. As I sat in his hospital room for this story, Mr. Tugwell managed to crack a meager smile and say, "I guess the only positive here is that last week I signed up for the Army Reserves and now all of my medical expenses are covered under their care." Just then a cotton-topped nurse pokes his head in the door to deliver the agonizing patient his lunch. "I'll offer you a gum wrapper and a crouton for this meatloaf and mashed potato platter," said the orderly. Young Tugwell shrieked and then this reporter had to make a break for the door clutching his gut, praying that he is able to avoid the dredded pain that Tugwell and his co-workers are currently experiencing, "ERIC".

Young Rookie Shows Business Smarts

In what may be the wave of the future, young rookie phenom, Steven Strasburg, has signed an endorsement deal based on his fantasy baseball stock. With the help of super agent Scott Boras, Strasburg inked a deal over the weekend with North American toothbrush giant, Oral-B. Franklin McCourt, Oral-B vice president of advertising, said that the company is planning on re-introducing one of their most famous toothbrush models, "the Reach", to the American public. "Steven just seemed to be the perfect fit for us due to the fact that I know in almost every fantasy baseball league out there, some moron will reach for the unproven rookie about 8 rounds too early, and you know who you are out there." The terms of the deal remain undisclosed, but since Scott Boras was involved, one can only assume it was very client friendly. Boras has managed to put even more of a spotlight onto what teammates are referring to as "Jesus". Without even throwing a pitch this season, young Strasburg has the weight of a city and his team on his shoulders. Now if only Adam Dunn would sign a deal with Jenny Craig.