Originally posted on Razzball  |  Last updated 9/28/12

Moving, in short…is a *****. Like, is there anything more torturous on the planet earth than moving? The boxing. The bubble wrap. The calling of the friends who desperately try and come up with excuses as to how they are busy. The truck rentals. The pod storage. The list goes on and on my friends. Now I lie in excruciating pain since my back went out moving, agonizing over the so called baseball players that did me oh so wrong this week and last. Yes, the season is winding down and my sanity is seriously in question. Losing out by 5 points in the semi-finals in a CBS two thousand dollar prize league because Josh Hamilton decided to pound too many Rockstars is just too much for a young man like me to endure. That sounded weird. I didn’t mean that sexually, although that is highly probable as well. The man loves energy drinks and those energy drinks led to my downfall and countless others around the world. Weep with me brothers and sisters as I weep for you. Do we feel sorry for these players with minor injuries sitting out weeks on end when we are told they are going to be in the lineup or pitching on a particular day, only to let us down harder than seeing Kate Middleton topless? NO! We despise them more than we do all of Dan Aykroyd’s movie roles of the last 15 years! At least I do. Let’s  just get to this before the O.C.’s kick in.

Josh Hamilton - From 9/18 through 9-23 Hambone’s points leagues numbers read like this: 1 total point. THAT’S SIX OUT OF SEVEN DAYS! IN THE SEMI FINALS NO LESS! The aforementioned energy drinks got the better of this lush and screwed millions out of fantasy glory. Now I’ve been known to suck down large quantities of highly caffeinated beverages in my day along with every other form of upper know to man (except meth), and never once did it affect my vision. My heart rate and sanity, yes, but never my vision. This leads me to believe that Hamilton must have been slurping energy drinks by the freaking gallon. He must bathe in the stuff. For the love of God man!!! You missed 5 and 1/2 games due to overdosing on energy drinks?! The man was once my favorite player, now I know not if I will ever be able to excuse his latest sin. ENERGY DRINKS?? REALLY? Let’s move on.

Mike Stanton – Oh, I’m sorry, it’s Giancarlo Stanton, or whatever cupcake name the man I used to think of as a demi-God chose. Half God? Trick please. Stanton is softer than Roseanne’s son D.J. If the Marlins are going to hold him out this long, why not just shut him down and save the fantasy baseball nation the pain of having him locked in a weekly lineup not once but twice in the two most meaningful weeks of the season? I’ll try and remember the good times, Giancarlo…. but I’ll most likely only remember you costing me hundreds of dollars that I rightfully earned. And to think, I trusted you. You disgust me.

This is truly too hurtful to write about anymore. Let’s take a look at some real men, who are worthy of worship.

Doug Fister – The points Fisty has put up lately astounds the mind: 25, 24, -9, 32, 24. Take away that -9 and you’ve got a Kris Medlen clone on your hands here kids. What do you know, the Mariners got raped and pillaged on another trade, as Douglas just might help Detroit win a World Series this year. Unfortunately for them (and for me), Scherzer is limping to the finish line and without him they’re most likely fish food. But who cares about real baseball? If you are still alive right now and have Fister in your lineup, you should be sitting pretty. Of course I have Fister on all my teams and I also had Pam Anderson in a downward dog last weekend….. of course, I’m lying on both counts.

Angel Pagan - If you are in a CBS points league and you own this man (in fantasy not like a slave) and defeated a team called the “Butt Pirates” last week by 3 points to reach the finals, you should send half of your winnings to Pagan. He single-handedly destroyed me. But these posts aren’t about me. O.K. they are somewhat about me, and I had no idea of what Pagan was about to do to my psyche last week. Kudos to you if he was in your lineup. The point totals are right here. Take a look: 3, 3, 6, 7, 4, 0, 1, 1, 4. No huge games, but consistency kills. RIP to the Butt Pirates.

B.J. Upton - 10, 3, 8, 6, 0, -2, -3. That’s what the superior Upton brother has done for the last week. Maybe his goal was to vault you into your fantasy finals matchup then laugh as he forced you to crash and burn in the finale. Or maybe he is and always will be maddeningly inconsistent. Sort of like Dolph Lundgren. Who am I kidding, Dolph Lundgren is an absolute beast and has never shown the time of mediocrity Upton has been prone to show throughout his career. Either way, he helped you reach this point, and hopefully he turns it back on for the next 6 games. Or maybe hopefully he doesn’t if you’re playing against him. I didn’t even think of that. Pills are def kicking in.

Time for sleep and and a visit to the “Oriental Massage Parlor” down the road. They know how to take my pain away. Good luck this week. May the odds be ever in your favor. Check in next week as I close out the fantasy year with a rundown of players who showed up big-time this year and the players that make you want to spit on their wives.

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