This Ain't A Scene, It's A (Lousy) Arms Race

Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream, the Beatles had a yellow submarine, and I have a problem. It's more of an addiction, really. Just admitting this is a big first step for me. Every year I try to fight it. Every season I try to talk myself out of it, but it's becoming clear that this self-destructing tendency will forever be my downfall. I should have my own MTV special.

"True Life: I Always Draft Too Many Pitchers"

I fell into old habits this year and did it again. Oops. And like my love of Taco Bell or attraction to Jewish girls, this isn't going to end well.

But first, the good news: the Darling Asteroids' rotation is anchored by future Cy Young winner Felix Hernandez and Chad Freakin' Billingsley. We all know how great King Felix is. But Chad...oh Chad, where to begin? Let me count the ways I love Mr. Billingsley. Perhaps it's the way his slider breaks through the atmosphere on cool summer days. Perhaps it's the way Dodger blue brings out the color in his eyes (an impossibly dark brown). Whatever the reason, my love for Chad Billingsley cannot be explained or contained.

Let this incredible stat percolate in your dome piece for a minute: Every time Chad Billingsley wins, the Dodgers are undefeated.

Think about it.

Unfortunately that is where the good vibes end. I have hitched my wagon to a bunch of nobodies, and for six months we must dance. It will be slow. Bobby Jenks "highlights" an underwhelming bullpen which also features Francisco Cordero, Frank Francisco and David "First Alphabetically, Last in our Hearts" Aardsma. These four will toil in mediocrity throughout the season if I don't kill them first.

The rest of the rotation isn't much better. Oh, make no mistake. There will be moments of tenderness, moments of joy. Kyle Kendrick will look me in the eyes and tell me he loves me...and like a fool I will believe him. Randy Wells will get my hopes up. By mid-August they will have me believing in them. But it is not to be. These men are all third or fourth starters for a reason. Like Icarus before me, a precipitous fall I shall endure as I tumble down the standings. Ted Lilly will rip my heart out.

If I'm going to hell, I'm bringing you with me, Jeff Niemann.

There are two faint, flickering rays of hope in the distance named Stephen Strasburg and Aroldis Chapman. Strasburg was last year's #1 overall pick and can hit 100 mph. He's the best thing to happen to Washington, D.C. since Gilbert Arenas in a long time and should be in the Nationals' rotation by June. Chapman is a Cuban defector currently experiencing the American dream of living in Ohio and playing for Dusty Baker. Baker's most recent claim to fame is absolutely destroying the young arms of Mark Prior and Kerry Wood when he managed the Cubs. Chapman figures to start the season in the minors, as far away from Dusty as possible. When he gets called up, I just pray he notches a few wins and strikeouts before his elbow explodes.

If Strasburg and/or Chapman work out, even a little bit, the entire season may not be lost. Just most of it. All the world's a stage, and these are the players I've chosen.

This addiction will be the death of me. Somebody call Dr. Drew.

AL Predictions: My Guess is Better Than Yours

AL WEST: Both the Rangers and Mariners are primed to knock the Angels from their perennial perch atop the division, which is great, because the Angels are boring. I have never been excited to watch an Angels game, and neither have you.

The Rangers figure to hit the heck out of the ball, with Nelson Cruz and Chris Davis both capable of hitting 40 homeruns and having batting averages around .240. Their rotation is unheralded but pretty solid, and their bullpen can be lights out with closer Frank Francisco and wunderkind Neftali Perez. If the American Hero Josh Hamilton can regain his 2008 form, look out.

Still, the Mariners are the pick. Seattle has maybe baseball’s best 1-2 combo in Felix Hernandez and Cliff Lee. Lee is getting plasma injections for an ab strain, which sounds straight up like some Lex Luthor stuff. Meanwhile, King Felix finished second in Cy Young voting last year, winning 19 games with a 2.49 ERA. The manchild is stupid good. Newly acquired Milton Bradley patrols left field, and it’s always nice to have a little dose of crazy on your team. It keeps things unpredictable. The ladies love it. Chone Figgins also joins the fray, and Ichiro is still the surest thing in baseball. Once Lee returns from the Death Star fitted with an adamantium skeleton, it’s over.

AL CENTRAL: Who will win the most lackluster division in baseball? Follow up question: who cares?

The Twins still have Joe Mauer, baseball’s best hitter who plays the toughest position and sports the game’s loveliest sideburns. Justin Morneau is coming back from a stress fracture in his back, which I’m sure isn’t as bad as it sounds. Unfortunately, their excellent closer, Joe Nathan, is out for the year and needs Tommy John surgery.

The Chicago White Sox have a bunch of players, too.

But the Tigers of Detroit have the least unimpressive team. Justin Verlander was back to his old self last season, winning 19 games and fanning 269 batters. First baseman Miguel Cabrera is as solid an offensive player as you’ll find and can collect 35 homers, 100+ RBIs and hit around .320 with his eyes closed. Tigers all the way. Cool?

Now let’s never talk about the AL Central again.

AL EAST: It’s a good thing Canada won that gold medal in hockey. Chris Bosh of the Raptors is leaving after this NBA season, and Roy Halladay is no longer a Blue Jay. If you live in Toronto, what’s your motivation? Vernon Wells? Yikes.

Ditto, Baltimore. But at least they’ve got an exciting crop of young players (Nick Markakis, Adam Jones, Matt Wieters) to keep fans interested until Joe Flacco and the Ravens report for preseason football.

Which leaves the Big Three in the East, who might just be the best three teams in the entire American League. Flip a three-headed coin and see who comes out on top. The Red Sox have a stacked pitching staff which added John Lackey, but an offense which could struggle to put up crooked numbers unless David Ortiz is the David Ortiz of old. The Rays have an absurd amount of talent all around. Evan Longoria, Carl Crawford, BJ Upton, David Price, Jason Bartlett…my god, it just doesn’t end. If James Shields and Matt Garza can handle the innings load, these kids will be alright.

But the Yankees are the Yankees. When making preseason picks it’s important to think, “Did anyone do enough to knock off the champs?” The Sox added Lackey and shortstop Marco Scutaro. The Rays got Rafael Soriano.

Translation: not really.

Having an endless payroll doesn’t hurt, but hey…plenty of teams have a lot of money. Only one of those teams has Mariano Rivera.

Most Valuable Player: Joe Mauer is unquestionably more valuable than any player in the AL, possibly in all of baseball. But eventually the innings are going to take their toll on his knees. He misses a little bit of time every season, and this year that time will be enough for the hype machine to get rolling for Mr. Mark Teixeira.

Tex finished second in MVP voting last season, his first in New York, where he hit .292 with 39 homers and 122 RBIs. Being the biggest bat in the most stacked lineup on the most high-profile team in the world certainly has its advantages. If you want an MVP who drives in a ton of runs, plays great defense and has a winning smile, have I got great news for you.

Oh, and at some point someone will make an argument for Derek Jeter as MVP. Do not believe them. Just walk away.

Cy Young Winner: How many royalty puns can one person squeeze into a paragraph predicting Felix Hernandez wins the Cy Young? Let’s see.

This is the season King Felix ascends his throne. He is only 23 and has gotten better every year. He finished second in Cy voting last season but this year he will be second to none (ha!). Bow down before his awesome curveball. With an improved offense and a great defense behind him, the crown is his. Felix will win 20 games, strike out the world and make the lineups of the AL West look like peasants.

That last one was lame, but you get the idea.

Runs Come in Bunches, Just Not Here

Oh, to be young and in love with one’s fantasy team. To wake up every morning and know you have something special, to stare at your computer screen for hours and hours and wonder, “What did I ever do to deserve this? I’m the luckiest man in the world. I love you, Prince Fielder.” Truly a match made in heaven.

This is not one of those teams.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s a stud or two on the Darling Asteroids. But this offense is mostly littered with uninspiring, underwhelming—what’s the word?—assclowns.

Leading the charge will be Rays’ third baseman Evan Longoria, a man who is capable of hitting 40 homeruns and driving in and scoring over 100 “runs” this season. These “runs” are funny things. I still don’t fully understand it all but it appears that if you score a lot of them, you win. Having players on your team that can produce a bunch of “runs” is kind of a big deal. It stands to reason that Mr. Longoria is a big deal. He’s only 24 and has already played in a World Series. I’m almost 24 and have never been to Disneyland. The universe is not kind.

The other two big deals on the Asteroids is Marlins’ shortstop Hanley Ramirez and Dodgers’ outfielder Matt Kemp, two of the most complete players in the game. They can both do it all—taters, steals, and “runs” by the boatload. If Hanley would stop getting minor groin strains every three weeks I’d be way more excited about him. Matt Kemp, on the other hand, is perfect in every way. Don’t look into his eyes too long. You’ll get lost.

But the rest of the team? Yikes.

Pablo Sandoval is a pretty sweet little hitter with the best nickname in baseball (Kung-Fu Panda) and I look forward to tracking his chubby progress throughout the year. But Mike Napoli? Placido Polanco? And who is heck is Julio Borbón?

And of course, we have Melky Cabrera. Whatever.

Which brings us to the tragic case of Vladimir Guerrero, the 2004 AL MVP whose age and wobbly knees have turned him into a shell of his former self. Vlad has never met a pitch he didn’t hack at, but his ability to hit literally everything has diminished over the years. Watching this poor guy limp down the first base line with his staccato steps is going to be hard. Unfortunately, we have no other choice. Alexei Ramirez is going to sit on the bench where he belongs, and that rounds out the offense. Vlad and I are about to start a bad romance.

I’d say I like this offense, but the second to last thing I’d ever do is lie to you. The last thing I’d ever do is draft Dustin Pedroia. You’re not gonna believe this, but the pitching staff inspires even less confidence. Strap on a helmet. This is going to get ugly.

It's Go Time

“The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it’s a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good and it could be again.”

-James Earl Jones, “Field of Dreams”

Now is the time of year when sports writers around the country rhapsodize about the crack of the bat, the smell of the grass, hit-and-runs and suicide squeezes. They reminisce about going to the ballpark for the first time, recall the thrill of seeing their childhood heroes in person, and wax nostalgic about having a catch with the old man. It’s all just filler, and as much as I love baseball I can’t help but roll my eyes.

But then it happens. Spring training highlights pop-up more frequently on ESPN as the calendar slowly marches towards April. I get a tingly feeling in my bones after staring at my fantasy team roster for too long, checking and re-checking the waiver wire with the consistency of an OCD patient. My anticipation builds. When Mike Hampton suffers a season-ending injury, I know the time is near.

And I realize that all the ink spilled in the preseason, all the clichés, all the gushing, all the nostalgia, all the would-be poets detailing their childhood memories…it’s all true.

Baseball is the best game there is.

Triples in the gap…home plate collisions…perfectly executed 4-6-3 double plays…Ryan Howard’s moon shots…Tim Lincecum’s curveball…Joe Mauer hitting everything…Torii Hunter being a maestro in centerfield…the mere existence of Chad Billingsley…each one a thing of beauty, each one filling my curly-headed heart with joy.

Unfortunately, when James Earl Jones spoke about things that were once good and could be again, he was not referring to my fantasy team. The Darling Asteroids are in for a long, long season. I botched my first ever auction draft and ended up with too few offensive players, too many pitchers and enough regret to fill the chasms in Citi Field. We will get into specifics in the future, but trust me—the climb towards pretend-eternal glory will be steep.

I also drafted Melky Cabrera. Whatever.

Fortunately, the goings-on in reality figure to be exciting enough to distract us from the Darlings’ shortcomings.

Will Roy Halladay manhandle the National League? (Probably)

How many Yankees-Red Sox games will be nationally televised? (53)

Is Albert Pujols mortal? (No)

So many questions, and so many questions yet to be asked. It’s like an episode of LOST, except there will be answers. There might even be a Jose Lima sighting if we’re lucky. Coming up next: dissecting the Darling Asteroids’ woefully uninspiring offense, which is downright offensive.

See what I did there?

The boys are back in town in a few short days. Get ready.