23 August 2008

It's Hard to Keep Caring About Fantasy Baseball

But I'm trying. For real. I want to care. I definitely need to have more ridiculous e-mail conversations debating the value of Mark DeRosa (who is a goddam fine ballplayer!!!).

But I just can't keep it going. After I won the league last year, and got that pewter trophy in the mail. Very unexpected. The trophy, I mean, but the feeling I had was unexpected, too. I felt like a loser. Like I now had to put this thing on the wall or display it somehow, so that all my friends could see how fucking awesome I am at fantasy baseball, a testameent to how little I do at work and how little I care about my wife and kids. (I don't even have a wife and fucking kids!!!) Like there was some other career I could have had telling everybody all the right moves on the diamond.

Fuck Joe Torre!!!

Actually, I really like the guy and hated to see him go. But nobody listens to me, even with my goddam trophy. (We won 108 fucking fantasy games!!!)




((Yes, three goddam exclamation points.) I love parenthesis.)

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