Fantasy Team Disappoints, Actual Baseball Exhilarates
The Vincent Black Shadows, a fantasy baseball franchise operated by your correspondent for the past 25 years in five different fantasy leagues in three different cities in two different time zones, are limping to a sixth place finish in the Tri-Tip League of Santa Barbara. It was a year that saw the team crippled by injuries, players traded out of the National League and players underachieving due to sloth, pigheadedness and the insistence of playing while injured.
The Shadows pitching staff was particularly disappointing. Young pitchers failed to develop (Paul Maholm, Chris Volstad). Veterans regressed (Aaron Harang, David Bush). Speculative signings failed to pan out (Sean Gallagher, Sammy Gervacio).
The position player side of the roster entered the season weak in power hitting. My plan to leverage my excellent farm system (Starlin Castro, Jose Tabata, Devaris Gordon) as trade bait to acquire sluggers from other teams was scotched by the unexpected early promotions of Castro and Tabata to the big leagues. Adding to my loss of trade leverage were injuries to two key players (John Baker, Mark DeRosa) and the trade to the American League of another (Conor Jackson) leaving my team with holes I could not fill.
Even with this bad luck, I was still in the hunt until late July. I was unable to negotiate the needed trades however, and even my prescient signing of new Milwaukee closer John Axford and the late season additions of Kevin Corriea and Joe Blanton could not generate the necessary momentum for a run at the money. The foundation for next year’s team is very solid, but it is cold comfort indeed here at the tail end of my third year in a row finishing out of the money.
I like to think that the brain fog produced by Hep C and interferon contributed to the Shadow’s disappointing season by impairing the decisions made by the team’s “baseball people.” In fact, now that I think of it, I went symptomatic right about the time that the Shadow’s began their decline…
Major League baseball, on the other hand, has been a delight. My old home team, the Twins are in the playoffs, the Texas Rangers managed by one of my favorite people in baseball, Ron Washington are in the playoffs and Your San Francisco Giants, with a win tonight against the Padres, will win the National League Western Division Championship. The postseason is almost upon us and I have several rooting interests and a friend who has scrambled around and secured tickets.
I am optimistically awaiting my latest viral load results, and the Giant’s game is starting up on the TV and life is good enough for now…
Showing posts with label baseball. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baseball. Show all posts
Friday, October 1, 2010
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Baseball Adds Life
“People ask me what I do during the winter when there is no baseball. I tell them that I sit at home and look out the window and wait for spring.” Rogers Hornsby, member of Baseball’s Hall of Fame.
Thank god for opening day. Thank god for spring and the activity that heralds the coming of summer and better times: spring training. Nothing quite lifts the spirits like the sound of a bat hitting a ball, the smell of the grass, the feel of the sun on your face and your arms. The feeling of tiny drops of sweat popping out on your arms and your face as the warmth soaks in. The gentle slide from day to evening and evening to night and the perception of the lights taking effect as the darkness descends around the field. The pop of the catcher’s glove as the fastball darts across the plate. The chatter of the players against the backdrop of the continuous hum of the crowd. The sound of the announcer listing the batting order and naming the players as they step up to the plate. Taking the cardboard off the top of a frosty malt and digging in with your wooden spoon. All these sensations and more that herald a new season and a chance to watch your team through the long summer just like you have for 20 or 30 or 50 years. It banishes the other cares and worries and lets you experience an afternoon or evening purely on its own terms. I’m sure you’re getting the idea that I love baseball and am a lifetime fan. It has been an eagerly anticipated summer activity since I started playing catch with my brother in the backyard when I was 7 or 8 years old. It has never been more anticipated than this year.
It has been a long, cold, wet winter in the SF Bay Area. While we didn’t get the massive blizzards and frightful cold that afflicted other parts of the country, we did get day after day and week after week of damp, cold weather. The sort of damp cold that seems to soak into your bones and take up permanent residence. It is not helped much by the fact that most old houses in the Bay Area are poorly insulated and not well served by their furnaces and most of the light industrial spaces are not heated at all.
I really noticed that I was really dragging about 3 weeks ago. The treatment has made me much more susceptible to cold and becoming chilled and I was cold all the time. I also had a cold (which, curiously enough, refuses to leave), no energy and shortness of breath. It was light for only a short time before I went to work and was usually dark by the time I got home. I was frustrated, pissed off and not the most pleasant person to be around.
But then daylight savings time kicked in and the months-long cold weather lifted. It was light out, with actual sun, and I did not have to wear a short sleeve t-shirt, a long sleeve t-shirt and a sweatshirt at work. I could take off the fingerless gloves that make keyboard work such a joy. And the Giants began to play spring training games and those games were on the radio.
For the last two to three weeks, I have had more mental spark (in not more actual physical energy), I have felt less depressed, less angry and have begun to talk to people more. My wife claims I have begun to rant about the doings of the local politicos and people in the news, which she takes as a sign, my personality is returning. This weekend, I will journey to the south for the annual ritual of my fantasy baseball auction (said auction being something I have done in one league or another for 27 years now). The preparation for the auction, the following of scouting reports, the attempts at trades with my fellow owners, the updating of my lists and charts has brought me out of the doldrums and genuinely back to life.
The last few days have been the night sweats phase of the weekly interferon cycle. I have recently returned to a full dose of interferon from the ¾ dose I have been doing for the past 9 weeks and that has also meant the return of chicken-skin rash and itching to my arms and lower legs. The full dose has also meant the return of more aggressive insomnia and generally restless sleep. All of these suck, to use an honest but not particularly artful term, but I have actually not been letting them bother me. Sure I have to change t-shirts and sheets and be more disciplined about my behavior to try to help me sleep, but I am also getting up each morning and checking the players out online and reading the local sportswriters, (no matter how stupid their material) and looking forward to what will happen during the day. Baseball and Spring have made a huge difference in the trajectory of my treatment.
AVB, the study coordinator, talks about how everyone hits the wall at some point during treatment and how you have to find some way to fight through it and continue to have the best chance of success. I am not sure if this was my wall or just a hurdle, but having a passionate interest in something to take my mind off the treatment and push it back to being a part of life and not the thing that dominates life has been, to use the pathetic cliché of the sportswriters, “a difference maker.”
The treatment regimen made me much more aware of the effects of the seasons on my mental outlook than I have ever been before. It is something I have to remain aware of as the treatment wears on. Some of the feelings and effects are dictated by my own responses to my environment and not entirely by my responses to the drugs. My environment has improved and my life is better.
So whether it is getting out and riding no matter how bad you feel as the guys over at Hep C Straight Up do or turning on the radio an listening to Glen Kuiper and Mike Krukow announce a Giants game as you work in the yard, find something you love and dedicate yourself to enjoying it as often as possible. And keep your sheets dry if you can…
Thank god for opening day. Thank god for spring and the activity that heralds the coming of summer and better times: spring training. Nothing quite lifts the spirits like the sound of a bat hitting a ball, the smell of the grass, the feel of the sun on your face and your arms. The feeling of tiny drops of sweat popping out on your arms and your face as the warmth soaks in. The gentle slide from day to evening and evening to night and the perception of the lights taking effect as the darkness descends around the field. The pop of the catcher’s glove as the fastball darts across the plate. The chatter of the players against the backdrop of the continuous hum of the crowd. The sound of the announcer listing the batting order and naming the players as they step up to the plate. Taking the cardboard off the top of a frosty malt and digging in with your wooden spoon. All these sensations and more that herald a new season and a chance to watch your team through the long summer just like you have for 20 or 30 or 50 years. It banishes the other cares and worries and lets you experience an afternoon or evening purely on its own terms. I’m sure you’re getting the idea that I love baseball and am a lifetime fan. It has been an eagerly anticipated summer activity since I started playing catch with my brother in the backyard when I was 7 or 8 years old. It has never been more anticipated than this year.
It has been a long, cold, wet winter in the SF Bay Area. While we didn’t get the massive blizzards and frightful cold that afflicted other parts of the country, we did get day after day and week after week of damp, cold weather. The sort of damp cold that seems to soak into your bones and take up permanent residence. It is not helped much by the fact that most old houses in the Bay Area are poorly insulated and not well served by their furnaces and most of the light industrial spaces are not heated at all.
I really noticed that I was really dragging about 3 weeks ago. The treatment has made me much more susceptible to cold and becoming chilled and I was cold all the time. I also had a cold (which, curiously enough, refuses to leave), no energy and shortness of breath. It was light for only a short time before I went to work and was usually dark by the time I got home. I was frustrated, pissed off and not the most pleasant person to be around.
But then daylight savings time kicked in and the months-long cold weather lifted. It was light out, with actual sun, and I did not have to wear a short sleeve t-shirt, a long sleeve t-shirt and a sweatshirt at work. I could take off the fingerless gloves that make keyboard work such a joy. And the Giants began to play spring training games and those games were on the radio.
For the last two to three weeks, I have had more mental spark (in not more actual physical energy), I have felt less depressed, less angry and have begun to talk to people more. My wife claims I have begun to rant about the doings of the local politicos and people in the news, which she takes as a sign, my personality is returning. This weekend, I will journey to the south for the annual ritual of my fantasy baseball auction (said auction being something I have done in one league or another for 27 years now). The preparation for the auction, the following of scouting reports, the attempts at trades with my fellow owners, the updating of my lists and charts has brought me out of the doldrums and genuinely back to life.
The last few days have been the night sweats phase of the weekly interferon cycle. I have recently returned to a full dose of interferon from the ¾ dose I have been doing for the past 9 weeks and that has also meant the return of chicken-skin rash and itching to my arms and lower legs. The full dose has also meant the return of more aggressive insomnia and generally restless sleep. All of these suck, to use an honest but not particularly artful term, but I have actually not been letting them bother me. Sure I have to change t-shirts and sheets and be more disciplined about my behavior to try to help me sleep, but I am also getting up each morning and checking the players out online and reading the local sportswriters, (no matter how stupid their material) and looking forward to what will happen during the day. Baseball and Spring have made a huge difference in the trajectory of my treatment.
AVB, the study coordinator, talks about how everyone hits the wall at some point during treatment and how you have to find some way to fight through it and continue to have the best chance of success. I am not sure if this was my wall or just a hurdle, but having a passionate interest in something to take my mind off the treatment and push it back to being a part of life and not the thing that dominates life has been, to use the pathetic cliché of the sportswriters, “a difference maker.”
The treatment regimen made me much more aware of the effects of the seasons on my mental outlook than I have ever been before. It is something I have to remain aware of as the treatment wears on. Some of the feelings and effects are dictated by my own responses to my environment and not entirely by my responses to the drugs. My environment has improved and my life is better.
So whether it is getting out and riding no matter how bad you feel as the guys over at Hep C Straight Up do or turning on the radio an listening to Glen Kuiper and Mike Krukow announce a Giants game as you work in the yard, find something you love and dedicate yourself to enjoying it as often as possible. And keep your sheets dry if you can…
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