Fantasy Baseball as I know it will never be the same.
Take a guy with an addictive personality who will bet on anything; and put him on this site. What you have is me – sitting up late at night, researching what Norichika Aoki has done lifetime during day games against left-handed pitchers in even-numbered years.
And then I swap out the entire lineup I’ve researched so hard for some fly by night guy who I just feel is overdue. It’s madness. It’s a street where no one is your friend, and it’s every many for himself.
Since Opening Day began and I gave this daily fantasy baseball site a shot, I haven’t been able to stop. In fact, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.
During my workday I’m sitting at my desk, and I’m wondering Jordan Lyles’ odds at shutting down the opposition. I never thought I would use my money to depend on Jordan Lyles. And then I found myself on DraftStreet. And I placed in my first two tournaments.
It’s like online poker, only the cards are replaced by my favorite thing in life: baseball players. And even though I don’t own Miguel Cabrera or Mike Trout in any of my real big money leagues (and never will), I make sure to own one of them at least nightly.
And I’m no longer depending on that ace on the river to take down the sit and go poker game. Quite the opposite in fact. I’m depending on a shithead like Miguel Gonzalez against the Tigers to take down the $100K ‘Big Score’ tournament for me. And I failed miserably. Miguel Gonzalez was bad to the point that when my wife got home from her long day at work, I did not have much to say. She asked what was wrong, and I told her that sometimes things do not go as they should. I lied, because in this case things went exactly like they should. The gambler in me played Gonzalez on the grandest of Daily Fantasy stages, and I did not learn to tell about it. Lesson learned.
Today my family gathers for lunch. I arrive and don’t have much to say. My aunt asks me if my wife and I had an argument, and I tell her the truth; we haven’t argued in weeks. If they only knew the reason for my smug demeanor was that Justin Masterson got tuned up all afternoon by the Twins and Billy Butler couldn’t buy a fucking hit against Chris Sale (who he has owned lifetime).
On Draft Street, up is down and down is up. The man who played Edison Volquez against the Cardinals today and Scott Feldman against the Angels walked away with my money. And I’m pissed about it. Yet, because I am a glutton for punishment, the only thing I could think about tonight was building tomorrow’s winner.
I have thought less about my yearly teams this year than I have my entire life – and the sad thing is those teams are performing admirably. DraftStreet is the Rubik’s Cube I vow to solve before I draw my last breath. It is a challenge I cannot stop striving for the top for. I will crack ‘the model’ if I have to work day and night to do so. I can do this. I don’t think there is a human being on this earth who thinks about this twisted game of baseball as much as I do – it’s a matter of time until I find out the grid on DraftStreet.
As frustrating as it can be, if it weren’t so much damn fun I wouldn’t be this into it. If you play Daily Fantasy Baseball on DraftStreet, you’ll love it. Where else does Charlie Blackmon become baseball’s prized golden-goose? Where else can I find myself being the biggest Brandon Belt fan on the planet? Adeiny Echeverria made me as proud the other night during his four-hit performance as anyone has in a long time playing fantasy. And Jared Saltalamacchia was not far behind.
Look for a weekly column with a few picks – and if you want to sign up at DraftStreet and start with $25 in free play, tell them Diamond Hoggers sent you.
