“If you don’t know where you’re going, you might end up someplace else.”
In fantasy baseball, there’s only one place any of us wants to be: standing on the top of some virtual winners’ podium, arms reaching for the baby blue sky, cheering out to anyone and everyone, who, by the way, couldn’t care less about our magnificent triumph. We’re employed by teams that neither thank nor pay us. We’re the only ones who are fans of our successes. Fantasy baseball is like a photo; if you’re not in it, you lose interest.
Our goal “is to win the game”, regardless of who is backing us.
We want to win. But how do we do that?
The tragic (and comical) words of Mr. Berra are true: if you don’t know what you want, chances are you’ll get something you don’t want.
Fantasy baseball, even more so than fantasy football, is about preparation, reading information, being informed, making logical decisions. In football, even Kathy, the office secretary, who missed the draft (because “What’s a draft?”), won your league (because there’s no difference between skill and luck in a sport where there’s no consistency or order). While football subscribes to the chaos theory, baseball is methodical, statistical, and predictable (to an extent that it takes skill to find and comprehend trends). If football is characterized as the butterfly effect, then baseball is weather forecasting: if you know what you’re doing, you’re going to be right more times than you’re wrong.
If we’re to give specific examples:
In fantasy football, and more specifically, in the NFL, if a team gets down by two touchdowns in the first quarter, it would be against their best interest in running Marshawn Lynch 30 times (because running the ball takes more time off the clock; throwing is more time economical), just because he’s on your fake team.
In fantasy baseball, regardless of what Jose Reyes does in a game, we know something for certain: he’s going to get at least four plate appearances a game.
If you knew Marshawn Lynch was going to get 30 carries a game, football would be more predictable.
It’s your job, as a fantasy baseball manager, to predict, to a certain extent, using trends, history, and statistics, what Jose Reyes will do with those four plate appearances.
Our goal is to be the last one standing at the end of the year, correct? Well, that’s not an easy task, because even if you can reasonably predict what a player should do, you still have to take into account certain variables: injuries, overachievers, underachievers, contract years, ball park factors, weather, and age. What’s quite possibly the biggest variable? Emotion. No matter how much we try and turn baseball players into numbers, they’re still human. Which means that no matter how much work you put into your team, you still might not be the one holding the trophy, cheering to all the people who didn’t come over to your house on the last day of the season to see your smirking face. It’s still weather forecasting. It’s still going to have that little bit of randomness that makes it both fun and frustrating.
Still, one thing is true: if you don’t know where you’re going, you might end up someplace else.
And it’s our goal to help you realize where you’re going. This season, Rotoballs has added more writers to keep you informed. While our website won’t be giving you daily results with up to the second stats, our articles are being written from a unique point of view, to both assist your decision making and entertain your eyeballs. We’ve also added a podcast, which comes out sporadically, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers now, can they?
In closing, and as always, we pray you have tight friendships, tight relationships, and families who love you dearly, because fantasy baseball will be rougher on them than it will be on you. So here’s to them, your support system: Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts. Love, Rotoballs.