My fantasy team: sucks ass

You might easily remember the night I drafted my fantasy baseball team, the Legendary Hillbillys III. Right now, this group of scum is wedged deep in the throat of last place in my league like a piece of steak that was too fatty to chew up. You swallow it whole hoping it will go down but then it’s a bad idea because your windpipe can’t take it down. You spit club soda all over the dinner table in a nice restaurant and your date laughs at you for being such a clusterfuck sideshow.

I am the commish of this league (and a crooked one at that). I shouldn’t be losing like this. I sit and I plot, day in and day out. Here’s what isn’t going the way I planned it thus far:

The ESPN Fantasy baseball re-set: Everything was going fine until this shit. I was in 5th or 4th place at worst. I had made great pickups. I was coasting in hitting categories with my additions. I had a lock down on the saves category. Things just felt better. Fuck off ESPN fantasy league. And no I don’t want your free ‘fantasy’ bullshit insider. Rip off dicks.

Adam Dunn: Yeah, let me start with you Dunn. You have another awesome spring. You hit for average and tell us all you’re re-dedicated to this game. You’re basically playing for a contract, a $13 million dollar option year is up after this year, so I figure you wanna cash in big. You start opening day with 2 monster homeruns off the guy I picked to be NL Cy Young. Since then you’ve managed to strike out 27 times. 27 fucking times Dunn. I went against the little angel on my left shoulder and listened to the devil on my right, who told me to give you just one more year. This would be the year that you hit .270 with 50 bombs and 125 RBI. You even steal a few bases early to think I’m getting a bonus for nabbing you as late as I did. You have the ability to make me look like a genuis. You’re a leader on this squad. I expect you to lead. So….stop striking out like it’s a fucking plague, and start launching fucking homeruns that resemble parabola’s into the stands night after night. Damn you, can’t you see what you’re doing to me? You’re ruining my life, and I’ve given so much to you.

Chris Carpenter: 2nd or 3rd overall pick in my draft. Opening night; gets tits ripped by Mets on national television. Makes everyone who knows I picked him and declared him “Cy Young of the present day” tell me I’m a fuckhead. After that he preceeds to go on the DL with bone chips and spurs in the elbow. Thanks for saying something before now, asswipe.

Chien-Ming Wang: Immediately after picking him, I am informed he suffered a nice injury and he’s probably heading to the DL. This one’s on me. I didn’t do my homework, and I got shit on. That’s fair, but he returns to get hit pretty good by the Devil Rays, and what do you know, I’m still stuck on 2 wins as a squad. One from a reliever.

Mariano Rivera: Lets see, oh yes, Mariano. Have a seat. With closers, you don’t draft them high unless they’re elite right? I’d say he’s pretty fucking close to what I’d refer to as an ‘elite’ closer. Yep, pretty elite. Well he’s thrown 6.1 innings, mixed in a 7.11 ERA and blown a few saves. All that coupled with the fact that he’s not successfully gotten a save yet, which is kind of like, his job, and you’ve got a complete bust. The Yankees look to be shitty and like to blow leads, so this could be the ‘decline’ year Mariano. Lucky me to get him during these troubling times. Still, if you would have told me that he’d go through all of April with no saves, I’d have told you that you need to stop sniffing the glue and eating your own dander.

Ken Griffey Jr.: His pussy hurts. What else is new. I got him very late in the draft, still he didn’t hit any homeruns and then missed 4 days being ‘sick’, and didn’t address why-so I cut his ass. He’s somewhere in the free agent pool now. As soon as he comes back, homerun. Suhweet, fucking suhweet. Once again, this one is on me. I should have known better. He is DONE. And no I don’t give a shit that he’s very nice to me and my fiance when we go to the ballpark.

Carlos Zambrano: Another guy I’d like to kick right in his latino dick. I picked him to be the Cy Young winner in the NL. I figure with him, Carpenter, and Wang I’ve got 3 guys who could win 20 games easy. Due to this I took 3 starters to begin the season, and all the rest closers. My thinking was I know how good I am at getting the hot players, so I’d find some scab starters late season to pick up in the other categories. Zambrano has yielded me one win, and all the rest of his 4 or 5 starts have concluded with meltdowns, from the vast to the small, still fucking meltdowns. Not a double digit strikeout performance yet. Still, you really chap my ass Carlos. You’re fuckin’ me. You know it.

Dustin Hermanson: wasted draft pick. Anounced and anointed as the ‘closer’ of the Cincinnati Reds one day, cut by the team the next. Thanks.

Milton Bradley: Contract year. He’s going to have a big year. Hurt. Cut. Done and done.

Geoff Jenkins/Coco Crisp/Ryan Church: All three of you fuckers can see the brush. Exit stage left, cum wrags. After I cut Bradley, all three of these failed to fill the role of 5th outfielder. Currently, Shawn Green is filling the position, but he’s a fantasy league cumstain and fantasy league whore. The chances of me putting up with his skinny, frail, over the hill ass are slim. Keep it up Shawn! 2 for 3 last night baby!

Eric Chavez: One homerun, .267 average. It wasn’t long ago you were like, considered elite. Thanks for being so ordinary. ‘Chavy’ as he’s unaffectionately known as now, belongs in the middle of the order in any lineup about as much as I belong at a free throw shooting contest. Hedge your bets!

Joe Mauer: He’s hitting .391 with 17 runs, so why is he on this list. Well, it seems Joe is using all his power putting the hurt on that pretty little model’s ass he’s been dating. Drop your cock, grab your bat, and start hitting homeruns. Maybe if you weren’t up all night fucking, you’d have some more drive in your legs to get those warning track flies over the fence. I don’t care if it hurts because you need to relieve yourself Joe. I need more power out of you! You’re the franchise dude, the future!

Carlos Delgado: I was talking you up like you were some kind of fucking greek god before the season started. Wind you up, you hit 40 homers, drive in 100, and hit near .300, right? Oh what’s that? You decide you’re going to give me ulcers and hit fucking .203 with one measly meaningless homer, and a couple RBI’s? You’re lucky I don’t know where you get your rice and beans dinner, chachi. I’d be putting visine in that shit.

I think that covers it. Last night before bed I was whining to the wifey about what these guys are putting me through, and how I don’t understand how I can still fail, afterall, it’s my life. She made me feel better and made a good point. “It’s still early on,” she’s right.