HIT 'EM WHERE THEY AINT

March 30, 2008

by the Biz'

Do you know how long it takes fantasy baseball stat freaks to realize you don't know as much or better yet a quarter of what they know? About a column and a half and that's being generous to my ego. So here is what I do know: The best club in my bag is definitely a seven iron; a full afternoon with Uncle Biz and your fourteen year-old son will be rolling his own cigarettes; it takes about four sips shy of a fifth cosmopolitan to let an unhappily married women stick your hand up her dress at the bar, and any time you want a house party to turn into one of the five all-time best nights of your life--let the black guy DJ. Trust me, "Dancing in the Moonlight" by King Harvest is a killer way to get your drunk aunt on the dance floor at a family reunion but it's not strong enough to get the new girl in accounting to leave heal marks on the wall above your couch.

I am definitely not here to make a mockery out of the institution that is fantasy baseball. I am here to give your brain a few minutes away from the strain the one-hundred and sixty two games of pine-tar, dip spit, genital adjustments and fifteen day dl stints it tries to endure. I love the game of baseball and sarcasm is pretty much the only language that I am fluent in. Putting them together gives me the joy that I only encounter when I have a hard-on in sweatpants. Now that we have gotten the formalities out of the way, lets take a look at the AL Central.

Bodoglife.com has the Indians at 12/1 to win the World Series this year. You can bet that the next royalty check I receive from Valtrex will find its way into a safe place in an off-shore account. Eric Wedge must be stoked that he can reuse last years line-up cards for the 2008 season, giving him ample time to catch up on episodes of Dancing with the Stars he had to DVR while at spring training. The Indians have the complete package: hitting, defense, pitching and Grady Sizemore (who should make People Magazines top 100 list of hottest faces in entertainment this year. The only question left on the board is how long it will take the Yankees and their bank roll to take a bite out of Cleveland’s stout line-up or rotation.

I've never been to Detroit, but rumor has it that it looks a lot like Beirut: Abandoned buildings, burning cars, children on bicycles with semi-automatic weapons sporting Iceberg pants. Probably not the picture the Detroit Bureau of Tourism is trying to paint on a brochure but a hell of a conversation piece when you're having dinner with a group of militants looking to relocate. What are you gonna do, times are tough all over. When you have a line-up that could potentially score four-thousand runs, it’s pretty easy to make any manager look like the Kim Peek of Major League Baseball. Sheffield, Ordonez, and Cabrera (affectionately dubbed voluntary manslaughterers row) are serious offensive threats, but I feel as a whole the Tigers are only good enough for the wild card. Which of course leaves me upset that the Yankees playoff streak will come to an end this year.

I will say that the Twins organization might be one of the best run in baseball. So why the F did they trade Santana and give Joe Nathan a sum of money that would have made George Jung blush? Hey guys, just a heads up here, but you have to be winning in order for your closer to do his job. When Johnny Rotten uttered: "Do you ever get the feeling you've been cheated?" I am pretty sure he was talking to Joe Mauer and Justin Morneau, but I have been wrong once before. So my apologies boys, but apparently the Minnesota suits have no interest in getting the opinion of a guy who divides his computer time between writing an off-color baseball column and seeking out amateur pornography before making these types of decisions. From now on Prince, Pre-1981 Bob Dylan and the Vikings stripper cruise are the only things that I will talk about when it comes to Minnesota.

I have to come clean...in the rebellious phase of my youth I was a White Sox fan. You have to understand I was very impressionable in my pre-pubescent stage. Eight Men Out was a hell of a movie and I am pretty sure I would have tongue kissed Bo Jackson under his belt buckle if he wanted me to. After countless hours of therapy I have gotten past those questionable times and am now able to share my embarrassment with all of you. It was reported that several Cub fans pulled a Sylvia Plath after the White Sox won the world series in 2005 but I don't think any of them will have to pre-heat the oven anytime soon. The only thing I can hope for is that Paul Konerko hits a pile of HR's and drives in about 200 runs because the rest of my fantasy roster barely passes for a girls junior varsity softball team.

When are the Kansas City Royals going to be good?

'til next time

the biz

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