And here’s another hit, Barry Bonds

Baseball, Fantasy Sports, Major Sports

Posted by Little SK, June 2, 2008 - 6:38 am

(or Adventures of a Fantasy Mercenary, with accompaniment from Kanye West and Lil Wayne)

Duude!
Fresh off the plane, konichiwa bitches…

Three years ago, my friend and then roommate Steve was delighted to learn that I, like him, loved to engage in Fantasy Sports competition. Football was the topic of the day, but he soon asked me to join his nascent baseball league.

He might as well have asked me to bore my eyes out with a blunt instrument. For me football and basketball inspired passion and real emotional connection, but baseball was the exact opposite. I tried really hard to keep it out of my life. It was an active indifference. Back then, fantasy was still a supplement to the enjoyment of real sports. A fun past time for me and my stat geek friends. I considered it weird and unseemly to play the fantasy version of a sport I didn’t care about.

But then Steve made two good points. You like stats, and you can win money.

A dollar-sign shaped light bulb turned on over my head.

I’m all about my Franklin’s…
Lincoln’s and Regan’s
Whenever they make them…
I shall hate them,
oops I meant have them…

Sure, I knew that fantasy could be played for money. But I started playing fantasy in high school and college (on the old Sandbox site), when my friends and I were all broke. We played for bragging rights and the opportunity to ridicule each other. Even after college, when we were all gainfully employed, it hadn’t occurred to us to offer cash prizes. Again, I had looked at fantasy as an extension of the real world, a place where illogical hatred, hometown attachments and rivalries were welcome. I truly believe fantasy competition has increased interest in all sports, but there’s no denying it presents very real dilemmas for long time sports fans. It was difficult enough navigating the prospect of having a Redskin on my football team, or having to root against the Cowboy Defense for a week. Throwing money into the equation seemed like a recipe for disaster. Now there’s a chance I could be rooting against my team AND profit from it? That’s dirty money!

But not in baseball. It quickly dawned on me that I could win money through fantasy without any of the associated dilemmas or karmic repercussions. Wouldn’t you know it, that first year I somehow lucked into second place despite not knowing my Coco Crisp from my Bartolo Colon.

Fast forward three years, and Steve has created a real monster.

They say he goin’ crazy and we’ve seen this before,
but I’m doing pretty good as far as geniuses go…

I now play in two money baseball leagues and two money football leagues. I haven’t been able to replicate my initial success in baseball, but the money I’ve won from football has more than supported my habit so far. I got over the dirty money BS, and there’s a nice symmetry if you can get the right hometown players on your team. Last year, I rolled with Tony Romo on both of my football teams and it was quite the rollercoaster ride. On the other hand, it can be a handicap as well. My baseball league at work features a die-hard Yankees fan who refuses to have any Red Sox on his team, a die-hard Red Sox fan who refuses to have any Yankees and a whole bunch of Chicago fans who wildly overvalue every Cub or White Sox hot streak. Let’s just say I like my chances (although I admit to having multiple White Sox in my non-work league, AJ Perzionjbanldjzgndnki and Carlos Quentin are having career years in terms of OPS, and John Danks has a fantastic K:BB ratio, just don’t ask me what their W-L record is).

The best part my foray into Fantasy Baseball is how completely liberating and therapeutic the pursuit of a purely monetary goal can be. The emotional side of being a sports fan is fatiguing. Real baseball fans may moan and groan about “wins” and “rivalries” and “curses” (I know this, I live two blocks from Wrigley Field). But I straight up don’t give a shit. And it’s the best feeling in the world.

I’m insulted, you should go ‘head
and bow so hard till yo knees hit yo forehead…
I’m high up on the line you can get behind me,
but my head so big you can’t sit behind me

There’s no being torn when my running back goes for 200 yards against the Cowboys. No more depressing Mondays when Tony Romo stinks up the joint, the Cowboys lose to the Eagles, AND I lose one week into the fantasy playoffs. I’m in it for the green, purely mercenary. Sure I care about Pujols’ elbow, but not because I “care” about his elbow, or about the Cardinals. I care because now I have to redo my draft cheat sheet. If the Mets and Phillies are locked in a tight race for the division, it really couldn’t matter to me less. What matters is if Chase Utley can keep his average up or if Cole Hamels can strike out 11 again (sorry Hassan).

****

Although I’ve always loved hip-hop, Fantasy Baseball has helped me to understand those songs that are about nothing except swagger and showing off in a way I couldn’t before.

There’s something magnificent about the pursuit of the superfluous and the unnecessary.

Like Barry Bonds being the best hitter in the game, but still taking steroids because he wanted to dominate.

Like ‘Ye and Weezy on the best song from Graduation.

When it comes to America’s past time, I’m completely soulless.

And it’s fantastic.

Life of a don… lights keep glowin… ,
Comin in the club with that fresh shit on
with somethin crazy on my arm
Ah Hah hah
And here’s another hit… Barry Bonds

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