Hot Corner: The biggest fantasy baseball dork in all the land

By Ben Rodgers
Editor

Editor’s note: As editor of this publication I rarely get the opportunity to toot my own horn. That’s what this piece does, as it will likely never happen again.   

The following is a story of devotion, want, heartbreak, confusion, luck, triumph and above all, a complete and total descent into utter baseball dorkiness.

After years of struggling, which was preceded by years of waiting just to play, I have claimed my one and only fantasy baseball championship trophy.

Keep in mind, like most sports fans, I like to think I know everything, but that’s a bold-faced lie, which makes this victory all the sweeter. This title was more about luck than anything else.

For five years in North Dakota I marveled at a fantasy baseball league ran by my sports editor at the time Dave Selvig of The Jamestown Sun.

He laughed when I asked to join, told me there is a lengthy waiting list and even if I was granted a team, I would do horrible.

Selvig, now sports editor at The Bismarck Tribune, still runs the same baseball league of 16 teams. I can now tell him to eat crow.

I only got the invite to join this depraved league of baseball purists after I hooked up the U-Haul trailer and pulled out of North Dakota for good.

I waited half a decade for my shot and once I was able to take it, I missed badly.

My first season I patrolled the cellar, my second season I climbed out but missed the playoffs, and now, three years in, I wear the fantasy baseball crown.

Just completing its 23rd season, this isn’t a standard league. It’s a three-player keeper, head to head, cumulative running points league.

Eight teams make the playoffs, four based on best record, two based on point totals, and two on non-conference win-loss totals.

I won my division and conference outright, but failed to secure the point title, which allowed a team with far less wins a spot in the playoffs. This almost came back to bite me.  

Keep in mind, points are added or subtracted for hits, runs scored, walks, doubles, triples, home runs, RBIs, strikeouts, wins, losses, saves, blown saves, holds, ERA, stolen bases, and probably more I have forgotten in my euphoric victory celebration.

I bested two other teams in the first week playoff four team matchup. I barely got through the second round against a guy who had more total points and I won handily in the championship.

So how does a newspaper editor who blindly adores the Milwaukee Brewers draft and start a team that was crowned best in a crowded field with other equally dorky sports minds?

Well, the first step is not drafting a single Milwaukee Brewer, and the other is the aforementioned blind luck.

I was fortunate enough to inherit a keeper in Max Scherzer, stat-wise the best pitcher this season.

I held onto a banged up Freddie Freeman, after he missed significant time last season, and kept World Series champ George Springer.

If you don’t know any of those names, don’t worry. Major League Baseball has become a niche sport, it’s the one thing people in this league can agree on.  

But my three keepers were all-stars, league leaders for their positions and some of the best.

As such, anyone with an internet connection and a mind for statistics can figure out who to keep, that’s not the impressive part.  

Where victory is found in the League of Dorks is high value players taken later, say JT Realmuto drafted 181st, Eugenio Suarez 149th, and Tim Anderson 245th.

That’s 72 home runs from a catcher, shortstop and third baseman.

I gambled high on Ken Giles who forced his way out of a bad situation in Houston, had a stint in AAA and didn’t start paying dividends until the final stretch on his new team in Toronto.  

I spent entirely too much on Tyler Mahle as a free agent and never started him once.

I rejected a trade offer of Kyle Schwarber for my prospect pick of Alex Reyes, days before Reyes would once again land on the DL.  

I gave Rougned Odor a fighter’s chance after a first half of the season that stunk out loud.

I was desperately trying to make roster changes for players on the DL on my cell phone with a brat in one hand, and the National Anthem moments away at Lambeau Field before the tie debacle earlier this season.

In short, I was incredibly loyal to my squad making under 10 roster changes over the course of the 24 week season.

Looking back on this I have to ask myself was my squad the best, or were the others just that bad?

As I wear my fantasy baseball crown and type this column from my ivory tower surrounded by my vast baseball knowledge, I would like to say that everyone else was terrible at managing their teams to let me win this thing.

Thank you League of Dorks for allowing my name to be etched into fantasy baseball immorality. You can be sure I will never let any of you forget the 2018 fantasy season.