In the fantasy baseball system, Ryan Doumit/Yuniesky Betancourt for Joe Mauer trade-rape offers are
considered especially heinous. At BAPL, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious cognitive assaults are members of an
elite squad known as the Trade Rape Unit.
These are their stories:
Week 6 Trade-Rapist Profiling Report from undercover BAPL:TRU agent
Only six weeks into my assignment, I’ve already observed five distinct trade rape profiles. Suspects may exhibit one or more of the following personalities:
The Candy Man
Like a grade-school playground predator, this trade rape perpetrator preys on fantasy baseball newbies, hoping to capitalize on the victim’s naivete and newcomer need to fit in.
The Serial Trade Rapist
This personality exhibits uninhibited trade-rape tendencies, often seeking out multiple victims several times per day or week with the most ludicrous of offers.
The Tijuana/Border Town Trade Rapist
South-of-the-border cousin to The Candy Man, Tijuana Man attempts to turn a reasonable, win-win offer into a Pay-US-200-dollars-for-worthless-trinket counter-offer transaction. Do NOT drink the water.
The Ambulance Chaser
Ambulance Chaser usually strikes when the victim faces a seemingly insurmountable point deficit. Perp is attempting to capitalize on low spirits during a down day/week and acts of patch-work desperation on the part of the victim.
The Herpes Salesman
Herpes Salesman is typically over-confident and narcissistic, but talks a good game. His M.O. consists of picking up waiver-wire crack wh0res with flash-in-the-pan stats, only to immediately turn around and attempt a trade of said crack wh0re via a Courtney Love for Jessica Biel caliber trade rape offer.
End of report.
Signed: Agent Lobster.
I must apologize for my two week absence, BAPL Nation, but quite frankly, I’ve had absolutely nothing inspiring to write about.
I’m pretty much sick of politics and the commie/collectivist takeover of our country; I live in bible-belt Texas where even my closest, supposedly non-believer friends are religilous sympathizers, so ragging on silly bronze age fairy tales is becoming hazardous to my personal life; and finally, my favorite MLB team is once again off to a mediocre start with any hopes of new, competent and responsible ownership in limbo. Oh, and my fantasy team’s starting rotation sucks.
So instead of any inspired topics today, I’m just going to whine about some things…I’ll try to keep it in the realm of baseball:
* The Rangers ownership situation sucks. Our current dewsh-bag owner, Tom Hicks, has desperately been trying to weasel his way around the deal he struck with the Greenburg/Ryan group because his dewshy creditors feel like he could get more money for the team. MLB has stepped in to take over the sale, but honestly, what freaking leverage do they have against Hicks’ creditors? And it’s not enough that this idiot Hicks continues to keep the Rangers in mediocrity hell, he is also the owner of the NHL Dallas Stars, who have now had two consecutive non-playoff years of mediocrity thanks to Hicks’ idiocy. Thanks to him, the Stars’ former head coach is on the verge of leading his new team, the frickin Phoenix Coyotes, to a first round win in the Stanley Cup Playoffs. Great move firing Dave Tippett, Mr. Hicks. Moron. And if I paid any attention to Soccer, I’m betting I could point out that he’s screwing up the Liverpool FC…but really, who besides un-American furriners gives a crap about Soccer?
* The kind folk at Rangers Ballpark failed to put the “Jonestein” plate on my season ticket seat. This is supposedly going to be resolved by the next home stand. I’m still irritated though, they managed to get my buddy’s plate on his seat. Grrr.
* I was going to bitch about Michael Young killing my fantasy team with his horrid first three weeks at the plate, but it seems he’s on a tear, especially yesterday when he had a 5 RBI day. I lost anyway…I could blame Mike but I’ll blame the anemic San Francisco Giants offense for not coming up with two lousy runs to give my starter Matt Cain AT LEAST another no-decision…this cost me 5 points, the difference in my loss. Even better, I’ll blame my center fielder Torii Hunter for his atrocious 3 point performance last week…s’what I get for drafting a Los Anaheim Angel.
* As much as I can’t stand Christian rock bands and that insidious brainwashing group at iamsecond.com, I gotta hand it to em, they help pack the stands at the ballpark when they have one of their smarmy Christian rock concerts on the north lawn. Saturday’s game against the Tiggers was freakin packed with delusional church groups forking out their dough to the Rangers rather than filling the coffers at their delusion factories. I suppose that’s the upside to them being there.
* I sprained my ankle about 3 weeks ago and it’s just now getting better. It has been a pain hobbling up to the ballpark so far…but hey, I’m a trooper.
* I’ve managed to avoid two Sunday’s worth of “God Bless America” and the threat of “patriotic” rednecks pummeling me because I refuse to stand during that idiotic song and the guilt-compelled, God-laced “patriotism” thrust upon everyone by the PA announcer. How? I have legitimately had to pee after the top of the 7th at every home game this year.
* On the bright side, my season tickets rock. We’re on the third deck, right behind home plate, about 4 rows up. The pic to your left is pretty much the view, though it doesn’t really do ’em justice. We are right by the escalators, so post game escapes are a snap. Also got season parking so getting in and out of Arlington is pretty easy.
Aside from the bumbling April play from muh boys, I’m hella pleased with my 2010 season ticket purchase. I’m actually going to try to make all 81 games this year, but will probably be foiled by my arch nemesis, the 100+ degree Sunday day games that, thanks to ESPN and their stupid exclusive Sunday night broadcasting deal, forces me into said heat when all summer games in Texas should clearly be held at night only. I’m beginning to despise ESPN, and not just because frickin Sports Center is constantly screwing up my Tivo’d episodes of Baseball Tonight. Grrrr.
You’d think at the ripe age of 45, I would sense the red flags after hearing this statement. But alas, when it comes to the game of baseball, I’m still a 15 year old kid susceptible to temptation.
Yes, I’m talking about my latest new addiction, Fantasy Baseball. Not only did my baseball crack dealer get me hooked on one league, he managed to hook me on two, and let me tell ya something, dear readers, it is some kind of hella-addicting.
Not only that, it has changed the way I watch the game. It’s not unlike the first time I watched “The Wall” whilst stoned outta my gourd.
Suddenly, I give a crap what Brad Hawpe of the Rockies is doing at the plate, that Torii Hunter just grounded into a double play, or that Matt Cain just gave up a game-tying triple. Aaron Hill pulled a hammie? Oh crap! Now I have a reason to give a shiite about the Blue Jays and am forced to learn that the D-Backs second baseman has a girl’s name.
My fandom loyalties are also being tested and pulled in all directions. While watching Scott Feldman pitch at Rangers Ballpark this week, I found myself secretly rooting against him because he was one of my fantasy opponent’s starting pitchers. Then again, Feldman is one of MY starting pitchers in the other fantasy league! GAHHH!!! Worst of all, I have Mariano Rivera as one of my closers in both fantasy leagues, so I’m now actually rooting for the Yankees when Mo is in a save sitch!
My advice, “Just Say No” to fantasy baseball, it will take over your life.
(I’m kidding, it effing rocks!)
Now please excuse me while I go knock off a liquor store so I can make my dues in the pay league.
Cartoon from here.