Friday, August 6, 2010

let's talk about why felix hernandez cries himself to sleep at night

In his nine losses this year, his team has scored him 7 runs. Total.

He is clearly a better person than I, because I would have snapped by now and beaten one of my teammates to death with his own (ineffective) bat. I do not have the stat readily available to me on this, but trust me when I tell you that when the boy does manage to leave a game tied or ahead by a run, he can also pretty much count on his bullpen to give up two or three runs. Why he hasn't killed any of them in a fit of rage is also a mystery. Either he's an extremely mellow individual or he has that learned helplessness (<--is that the term I want?) thing going on that abused spouses and prisoners of war get.

I think we need to lobby the Red Sox to trade for him in the off season. This would be good for us, good for him, and most importantly, good for my fantasy team. Think of his mental health! Think of my stats! Okay? Now start writing letters to Theo! Kthxbai.

xoxo

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sounds like Felix is the Tim Wakefield of the Mariners.

The fact that you're crying about the unfair fate of a player on a *different* AL team just goes to show the immoral dangers of the perversion that is fantasy baseball. It's as much of an offense against God as interleague play and the DH (except when Big Papi is hitting well, of course).

malevolent andrea said...

Oh, c'mon now. You have to have pity for him on purely humanitarian grounds at least. Not only does he effectively have to pitch a complete game shut out to get a win, he's forced to live in a climate where there's never any sun. Sounds like a suicide watch candidate to me. Hopefully someone's been slipping Lexapro in his Gatorade.

Uncle said...

Thanks for the visual of a pitcher trying to beat a teammate to death with his own ineffective bat. Have the Mariners given up wood for rubber chickens?

He would only fit in with the Sox in middle relief...the people most in charge of snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. Unless we traded Lackey for him.