Greatest Game No One Knew Took Place

In a surprise clash of the Titans where one team was 1 game over .500, one of the greatest fantasy playoff battles this league has ever known went down. It was a first-round square off between the Magical Unicorns and JohnClaytonsPonytail. The soiree ended 95.98 to 94.72 with the Magical Unicorns getting the right to advance in the bracket. But this would be one of those proverbial "much closer than the score indicates" games.
It all started last Thursday night. JCPT's Pierre Garcon has an amazing night catching 2 TD passes and jumps his master out to a 18.15 lead. Somewhere between this point and Sunday the white hefty bag that sat atop the Metrodome, you know, the one that Minnesottans thought could support a Northern winter, collapes and drops too much snow for the Sunday slated game between the Vikings and Giants, forcing it to be moved to Monday night. This rare circumstance only ratchets up the drama that would happen the very next night to immeasurable levels.
Heading into Monday night, the score was Maigical horny horses 61.73- JCPT 64.03. Here is the kicker, along with JCPT's 2 point lead, he also has 4 players going against the Magical Horny Horses 2. Baltimore defense, Mario Manningham, Arian Foster, and Ryan Longwell vs. Andre Johnson and Ahmad Bradshaw. This lead and those remaining players makes this lead seem insurmountable. Not so fast my friend.
Cue batshit crazy happening number one. After 297 straight career starts, Favre quits leaving Ryan Longwell's kicking possibilities in the inept hands of knee-knocker Tavaris Jackson. T-Jack manages to take out their starting RB and sitting out a few plays limiting Longwell's production to an abysmal 3 points. Kicker Neutralized.
Also in this game is Ahmad Bradshaw representing the MU. In the second quarter Bradsaw has a run that appears to have him go into the endzone only to have the guys in Foot Locker uniforms rule him down just short of the goal line. Next play, Big Black Behemoth Brandon pounds in the remaining 1 yard for the score. This apparent touchdown stolen from Bradshaw's owner costs him 6 points. Surely he would need all the help he could get to overcome the adversity he was faced with heading into the Monday night double-header.
Now over to the game where the real drama unfolded. Simple breakdown of why this game was so important. One team has the Texans biggest offensive threat, the other has the Raven's defense. Ravens start out crushing the red clad Texans and jump out to a 21-0 lead. Shutout intact, Andre Johnson rendered meaningless. 42 seconds to go in the half and the lifeless Texans manage to somehow get Andre Johnson behind the Raven's homeless safety and he scores a 46 yard touchdown. A huge lift going into the break, double whammy, big points for Johnson, negative points for Ravens' D. Could the gap be closing?
Once again, cue the Corso catch phrase. After halftime, the Ravens receive the kickoff and after 29 missed tackles, the ball is matriculated 103 yards down the field for a special team touchdown. In your face Andre Johnson, your score has now been washed. The game continues to progress with no big happenings taking place. Keep in mind that JCPT has Arian Foster, the league's leading rusher, sad part is that after all the smoke clears he turns out to be a non-factor.
Fast forward to 21 seconds left in the game. MU is now down by 1 point and needing a miracle from his only remaining player, Andre Johnson. After a pass that may have been intended for Jacoby Jones is caught in the back of the endzone by Mr. Johnson, 6 points and change are added to the herd of mythical equine and 3 points are taken from JCPT after his defense goes from the 21-27 point range to the 28-34 point range. This one play resulted in a 9 point swing. For those of you who don't feel like doing the math. The Corns are up about 8 points now. Since I knew what was at stake and my team had secured a 1st round bye because I'm awesome, I immediately started contemplating what it would take for this lead to be erased. The only two options left were Arain Foster and the Baltimore defense. Texan's get the ball back around their own 10 in overtime. Play one, incomplete pass. Play 2, Shaub drops back and throws a pick 6. 7 points for the owner of the Raven's defense!!! Could it be, after letting the MU back into the game the most improbable of all comebacks had happened. Nope, wait for it, it wasn't enough. JCPT comes up 1point short with all the lead changes coming in the final minutes of the fantasy week.
Epic.

Keeping the Buzz Alive

In an attempt keep their fans' interest piqued in the winter months, a lot of Major League Baseball clubs have come up with a few ideas to keep their teams in the spotlight year round. From documentaries to game shows and everything in between, fans get a look a little deeper into the lives of their favorite players in a few of these interspective pieces. I personally hope this sort of thing catches on because I enjoy seeing the real side of the people that have become drone-like creatures when a news camera is in front of them. Below are a few of the ideas that some of the more progressive clubs are marketing currently.

White Sox: “Juan and Dunn”. A reality show based on a the comedy that ensues when a fat white man from Texas shares a studio apartment with a skinny black kid from Louisiana. Set against the back drop of racism in the South

Phillies: “Roys will be Roys”. A documentary chronicling the joint venture between Roy Halladay and Roy Oswalt into the cutthroat market of crystal serving containers, the name of their company, Ace Pitchers

Nationals: “A Desmond in the Rough”. After star pitcher Stephen Strasburg couldn’t stay healthy long enough for a simple magazine article to be written about him, hot newcomer Ian Desmond was chosen as the title character in this piece. Catch-phrase from the error prone shortstop, “I play defense with my bat”

Rangers: “Line or Liquid”. Contestants are forced to choose between 2 answers, Line or Liquid, in this fun for all ages game show. In each round contestants are provided with everyday household items and they have to decide if it would be better to inject or snort that item. They write their answer on a tablet to see if they can match the two-man panel of experts consisting of Ron Washington and Josh Hamilton. Winner gets free fore-arm flame tattoos and a Kornheiser afro-puff.

Athletics: “Braden does Dallas: Dirty Sheets edition”. Sexcapade in which pitchers Dallas Braden and staff veteran Ben Sheets travel to the city of Dallas, Texas where the two of them chronicle their efforts to see who can shred the most trim in the offseason. Content not suitable for all viewers.

It just aint right

Enough of this Nicorette bullshit, I want a real smoke! -Any random A-hole that has tried to fill the void of getting off of the cigarettes

In this case, for me atleast, the Nicorette in that great allusion that I made above is fantasy fooseball and the sweet sweet tar that my lungs so badly need is that savory sensation produced by fantasy baseball. I swear I check the baseball message board as often as I do the football bored (see what I did there) just to remember the good ol' days. Maybe it's the new layout of the crappy football league board, maybe its the fact that we are one week away from playoff time and I've made a whopping 8 moves this year (I made 2 free agent moves the morning after our baseball draft, and boy did Milton Bradley make me feel smart), but I'm really not that interested. Tonight I sat down to watch a god awful Monday night game and after trying to figure out if Mike Singletary wears that cross because he is a devout Christian or if he is deathly afraid of a vampire attack, yes the game was that exciting (I decided I use a lot of parentheses so please appreciate that awesome comma separation I just threw at you and then explained inside these magical word hammocks that I love so much)-Now scan back to see how this sentence started....I decided it was a good time to type up a little motivational piece for my team and their great start. Here's the problem, I have no connection to my team. I actually had to look at my team to see if there was any sort of trend I could pick up on. It actually made me feel a little bit lonesome for....gulp...Chone Figgins. I remember reading an article where my friend first, employee second, was reunited with his old hitting coach when the Mariners played a weekend set at Anaheim. This was it! This was how Mr. Duct Tape (I'm trying this name out for him because he can do anything ***extremely scared handing out nicknames because I feel that the simple fact that I've been exposed to the name BamBam Braun for 3 years may have completely distorted my judgement for nicknames)would turn it around. Spoiler alert, he didnt, I kept him anyway and anxiously checked his box scores everyday with the same hope then sadness I have everytime Cam Newton lays on the ground that extra half second then hops up only to show off those giant white things he calls his teefs. My football team is named after Visanthe Shiancoe's gigantor love log, and the owner of that tram isn't even on my team. What the hell? I should be ashamed, truth is, gold jacket green jacket.

All I can say is, get here spring, I'm ready to start making extremely involved spreadsheets and reading everything I can, only to get shit-housed and drafting players that have cool names that can make great team names (Hoping for a rare double namer next year--Hawpe on Pap--Dr. Seuss reference, bit of a reach, I know, but it won't be the only one I make next draft-I'm talking to you Madison Square Bumgarner)

A Rose By Any Other Name....

With only 1 week remaining in "The Backstop Boys Fantasy Baseball League", I felt it was a time to do a small re-cap of the first season under the new league name, but also a solid continuation of the magic we had in the Tiger Bait Fantasy Baseball League.
First off, let me just say that it should be a constitutional mandate that every draft day/season kick-off should be held at a league member's house and that all other member's should have an uber valid excuse to not be there. I vote for some sort of penalty for not coming, i.e., league gets to name your team, you have to draft Aramis Ramirez before the 12th, etc. Simply by working my draft in person and protecting my entire lower half from jellyfish stings, I was able to clear my mind and assemble a team that jumped from the basement to the playoff pedestal. That's the Power of Urine (lesser known Huey Lewis diddy). Personal success stories aside, let's look at the jack offs that failed to come. T&B, "too far" he says, not as far as your fall from grace. Frank the Tank, "government runs my life", well maybe they can bail out your pour excuse for a team. Random Cardinal fan in our league, "My gam gam came over for my birthday", hope you enjoyed your time in the league a-hole. I believe my point has been made.
Second off, a huge change in the landscape this year. Pucketteer chieftain steps down as commish to be replaced by a Co-Commish tandem that is showing tremendous upside. Although only one person gets to wear the commissioner sash (should also be added to draft day festivities) he has partnered up with a real force behind the scenes. One meticulous, by the book, letter of the law type person. The other an off the cuff rant-ard that bitches about everything from Cy Young decision making to his favorite team losing a game just so that Rayburn fella doesnt get another AB, all peppered with expletives galore. I wish Paula would have gone with the names Oscar and Felix.
Third off, I want to reiterate how much I hate Yahoo! Fantasy Baseball App for totally fucking me with a herpes infested sandpaper condom. Ofcourse my team catches on fire for a playoff run but my affinity for drinking beer and tailgating and my confidence in today's technology lead only to me being ousted from bonus baseball. To all my players, I'm sorry. You did your part and I failed to do mine. Chone Figgins, I will never ever name my team after you again, but thanks for doubling your season average and hitting a rotund .250 in the postseason for me. Truly a sign the stars aligned when even you got in on the act.
ABOUT THE PHOTO: The above photo was taken to usher in the era of our fantasy league. A new millenium if you will. Taken against the backdrop of the famed boy band that is somewhat of a namesake, 5 key league members were chosen. In true boy band fashion, the new commish steps up to the forefront with a certan pzazz (his actual hair style, not airbrushed). Old commish is pushed aside, possibly looking to the past remembering when he used to be relevant, possibly looking to the future praying that things get better. Tankin Frank creepily occupying the back because thats what his team did all year (cue the Max Weinberg rim shot........now). To the left with a stare of confidence is the Bream Boss. A shroud of arrogance surrounds him leading into this championship match-up after womping through the regular season. But the Bream Boss's stare is no match for the Tourette's Team captain. Pulling on his extensive knowledge on how Jason avoided the stone-cold stare of Medusa, his downward stare yet forward posture shows he is stanced for battle but is not going to be shaken by the soul piercing pupils.

The End of an Era: 2005-2010

Over the last 5 years the former Tiger Bait Fantasy Baseball League, current Backstop Boys Fantasy Baseball League, was ruled by one man. His political views fall somewhere left of Mussolini and right of Atilla the Hun. He ushered in many changes during his reign as a tyrant. The introduction of divisions, inception of the franchise tag, adoption of the Puckett Buckett, and the gracious hosting of Draft Day 2010. This one man is none other than J. Charles Anderson, Jr.
Linked to countless scandals including some with his players, Anderson has chugged along as a force behind the scenes. Who can forget him offering up Pronk Bars only to have Travis Hafner have the first of his turdy seasons. $30 well worth it. Probably the only person in all the world that owns a Grienke and Braun jersey and definitely the only person in all the world that calls Ryan Braun "Bam Bam".
There is no doubt that the last 5 years have taken a heavy toll on the youthful exuberance as evidenced by the above photos. The jovial permanent pajama wearing cat enthusiast we all loved back in '05 is now a worn down slender Tony Siragusa that we all know and communicate with. The same person that years ago could make spreadsheets for 36 hours straight on a simple bottle of Aderral and a pack of Marlboro Lights now can barely manage to set his team daily. I personally saw the beginning of the end when the once proud and arrogant owner had the guile to ask me to co-manage a team with him this past offseason, (The Puckett Figs). What was happening, could it be? Oh how the mighty have fallen. Much like many great artists/entertainers of their respective times, they did too much too fast and their stars burned out long before their time. Maybe Anderson just couldnt handle being dethroned as the tour de force in the league that is now occupied by the Bream Team. Lets hope he manages to pull a Chevy Chase-esque comeback many years from now when his "Community" oppurtunity comes knocking. You will be relevant one day again "Big Cat", do as Jimmy V says, not as he does. I do and forever will love you. May God rest your soul.

A Real Case of Who Dunnit?

In what was originally construed as an accident, a few new pieces of evidence recently brought to light may suggest otherwise. On May 29th in Anaheim, California Angels slugger Kendry Morales hit a game winning grand-slam. A feat that provided massive amounts of jubilation amongst his team and their fans, albeit short lived. Upon his arrival at home plate, he placed his foot on the dish, only to have it slip off causing an awkward fall resulting in a broken leg which will also land him awkwardly on the disabled list. At first glance most people wrote it off as dumb luck, a mere continuation of the snake venom delivered to them every year in the playoffs if you will. But recently, Anaheim police chief Reinhold Goswick has alerted the media of 3 clues leading to 3 suspects in the case.
Exhibit A in the case was a banana peel found in the left handed batters box after the subdued dog pilers helped Morales off the field. This piece of Evidence points to an Italian plumber with suspected mob ties who plumbs and races as a laundering front. The plumber, simply known as Mario, has a long history of drug use, mostly hallucinogenic mushrooms, and an even longer history of other charged crimes which include: destruction to property (mostly bricks), arson, assault and battery of military officers including several troopas, excessive speeding, etc. Mario could not be reached for comment as he is strongly protected by his number 2 man known as Luigi, a toad, a donkey, a lizard thing with a spikey turtle shell and all of his footmen constantly parade around in an extremely intimidating go kart gang.
Exhibit B brought to light consisted of a pair of chopsticks and a batman-like tool belt. These clues were dusted and brought authorities to one, Richard "Data" Wang. Wang is considered somewhat of a Robin Hood figure in local communities, as he has a history of wrong doing for the good of the common man. In the past he was part of a misfit gang that single handedly nabbed an alarmingly bumbling group of criminals and stole, ahem, found, a large group of treasure and relics that were used to prevent an evil gang of entrepreneurs from bettering a community, but in the meantime, saving a crappy house with a gaudy contraption for opening the front gate. Most locals didn't care, but the story was a national phenomenom for quite some time.
Exhibit C in this caper is an empty bottle of baby oil that was found in the stadium with the finger prints of an Austin, Texas inhabitant. As of now the police are only scratching the surface of this suspect and are unwilling to release his name. All that has leaked out is the fact that the suspect has a few blips on his background check which include a minor examination thieving incident, an attempted BB gun assassination which resulted in a punk rock smurf falling off a roof, and tricking people to slip in baby oil. Apparently, suspect C's entourage finds people slipping among the funniest things in all the world. Video tapes of such events were also confiscated.
As of now there is still a lot of work to be done, but Chief Goswick is confident that the guilty party will be brought to light. Until then, I blame Brett Butler.

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.