The other day, someone asked what I thought about the NBA playoffs — who would win, when would the Heat lose, would the Mavs show up, etc. I stared at them blankly for a few minutes, offered a halfhearted "Celtics? Maybe?" and realized that my head just isn't into basketball anymore. I'll pay a little more attention to the final two rounds, but for now, I'm all about baseball. And not just about those teams with $100 payrolls, but also those with $50 payrolls.
The latter is the price of entry into my ultra-exclusive, 12-team fantasy baseball keeper league. This fee pales in comparison, though, to the time, effort and energy we expend scouring the waiver wire, talking smack and generally sweating over whether Alberto Callaspo will be able to get a two-run double on Sunday night to help win the matchup. We cheer for first-round picks, scrubs and middle relievers indiscriminately, hoping for points from all of them in a weekly epic upon which the balance of our world hangs.
I used to adhere to the "ignorance-is-bliss" method of being a baseball fan, worrying about my favorite team and making impulsive judgments about opposing players when they happened to do something memorable. I didn't research potential free-agent landing spots, the disabled list and hitter-pitcher matchups. I refused to accept that baseball could be broken down and analyzed by those who didn't care about the spirit of the game, and felt that they were somehow lesser fans.
No more. I've seen the light and drank the Kool-Aid. Fantasy fanatics begin to pray to idols of Bill James, and we drool over each new Baseball Prospectus report. It might as well be a foreign language to some people, but to those who care about getting the most out of their 10 starts per week, these numbers are golden.
Beyond the numbers, fantasy provides an outlet for discussion beyond each fan's specialty. Without our league, my roommates and I would be engaged in an endless, fruitless, Red Sox-White Sox-Giants circle until the end of time. Now I get to wake up and yell through the walls that Billy Butler is going to win a batting title because he happened to go 3-for-4 against Erik Bedard the night before, and I'm fired up about the six points he scored for me.
A keeper league is the clear choice for those serious about the fantasy game. The joy of learning you have the first-overall pick (Oh hey, contract-year-Albert), the sadness five seconds later when you remember that your second pick is 24th, and subsequent happiness that you get to analyze projections for a month leading up to the draft — these joys have no equal. The next year you can trade draft picks, spend the whole winter deciding who isn't going to live up to expectations and dream about winning the title that eluded you the previous year. You just had to go cold in September, didn't you Ethier …
If everything works out, my league will be around for the next 20 years. I'll stay in touch with these people through the trials and tribulations of our teams, terrible trade offers and general envy when Brandon Morrow puts up a 51-point game. Yes, I'll remain a Red Sox fan first and foremost, and yes, I'll trade a World Series for a fantasy championship every time, but who's to say that I can't root for Boston and still hope that Carlos Marmol picks up a save against the Diamondbacks? This is my chance for more baseball all the time.
