Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Smiff: The Greatest...or...THE GREATEST?

Rank Team Points Pts Change Waiver Moves
1. Lord Viper Elefantes 212.5 -0.5 10 63
2. Blue Ward Cyclones 205.5 2 3 9
3. Spackler Bents 174 2 11 27
4. Golemi Topki 170.5 0 6 19
5. Troglodyte Homunculi 170 0 8 41
6. Columbus Bureaucrats 160 -1.5 5 10
7. La Jolla Chemists 157 0 4 27
8. shot_at_bill 151 -2 9 40
9. Coach #31 132.5 -0.5 12 26
10. Mr. Baby's Fortune 122.5 2.5 1 16
11. clan of terrorists 114.5 -1.5 2 23
12. Maddogs 102 -0.5 7 31

Labels dat wouldn't fit:
and Smiff has hair
when the elephants dance it is the ground that suffers
we hatesez them
...add your own!
~

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

63 player moves? Looks like hard work.

Anonymous said...

...add your own!

Go phokk yourself?

Fungster said...

So game 163 won't affect the stats? I thought it would.

Fung's labels:
Zzzzzzzzzz.....
cricket: sooo much better than baseball
Uncle Cholly's squirrels (or whatever dat one is)

Fungster said...

I wonder how much Smiff is ahead in his WC career. It would actually be fascinating to see who the biggest sucker is as well (I knews it was me, dat's why I got out). Hmm, which gives me an idea for my league...

Smiff said...

Neither yesterday's or today's game count. They should (still the regular season), but i don't make the rules i just dominate them. And dat still wouldn't have helped Decker against Smiff's Fury (tm).

Biggest sucker is certainly Decker--i'm sure he's paid other owners' fees, plus he gets to hear me bitch all winter (just cashed the 2nd check from last year, or whatever Washington Mutual did with it).

Sarge said...

Enjoy this moment Smiff, it is the end of your reign. The Cyclones grow strong, the medication no longer so needed.

Next year, yes next year, Smiff, you will face the Plagues of Corms:

Your catchers will wither on the vine.

Your starting pitching will clutch at shoulders, obliques and elbows. Hobbling off like a staff run by Dusty Baker after reading the letters section in Baseball Digest.

Your corner infielders will wave bats of lead weakly through strike zones the size of small states. They will face a season in which they arrive to the plate all year at strike two, with strike three a weak offering at a pitch in the dirt.

Your gutty, aggressive old school middle infielders will scrap their way to a season of futility, hitting behind runners and chasing pitches and fouling them off before the inevitable 4-3. They will put up lines of .280, .310, .335 no matter who you put in.

Your outfielders will fall against walls, tear knee muscles and lose at bats when least expected to the Darrin Erstads of the world. You will curse and cajole, but the gods have grown angry with your attempts to join them at Fantasy Baseball's Olympus. They will cast you out with Hidalgo like seasons of shame after the bounteous years you had taken for granted as if they were so many sugar packs at a diner.

Yea and you will gnash your flattened teeth as your Bob Howry impersonators gather in the bullpen to set fire to the scoreboard and your flood of tears will not cover the multitude of their sins.

And you will finally know the misery of 8th place, nay, of ninth or even tenth place! When Evan Longoria swats another long fly with a mighty swing of his woe-bringing talent to the enemy, when the suddenly Healthful Rich Harden strikes out another 14 in a 7 inning effort and can only be described as the "Sorrow-Bringer" for his ability to destroy the hope of his opponents and when the long awaited King is finally crowned at Seattle, you will know the pain of a Cyclone Resurgency. And The Cyclones will not be alone. No, 777 times no. They will be followed by the Troglydytes and the Cormsians and the multitudes of gnats who will bring the elephant down.

And hark, what rider of the purple sage breaks yonder with the sunset? It is the mighty Fung, with his trusty Baseball Prospectus for Dummies (Blackberry Edition) who approaches? Yea, it may be. He will ride in and save us from your tyranny, Blackberry like a gun from his belt holster, to spread grief to the Smiff who will stomp, whine, plead and complain in a summer marked by the death of his once proud empire.

But congratulations on this year. It was another impressive display.

Smiff said...

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..........