What My Seven-Month-Old Son Knows About Fantasy Baseball

[Photo is of the e-trade baby, not my actual baby.]

“Hi. I’m seven months old. And even though I can’t talk yet, I can still have thoughts. Fortunately, my daddy can read my mind, so when I was thinking that I would like to write this post, he agreed to transcribe it for me. Even though I don’t really know what baseball is yet, I do know something about fantasy baseball, because sometimes when my daddy thinks he has my head facing away from his computer screen, I’m actually looking out of the corner of my eye. I don’t really know why he and mommy are so obsessed with me not looking at their computer screen. They would rather I stare at the wall? Adults are so silly. It’s not even like they’re doing anything with crazy blinking graphics or other things that are going to screw up my attention span or give me nightmares. They’re reading the New York Times. Big deal. Scrolling text. Wow. Really dangerous. Ugh, adults. They don’t even let me check my e-mail, EVEN THOUGH MY DADDY GOT ME A GMAIL ACCOUNT THE WEEK I WAS BORN. Why be so crazy as to sign up for the e-mail account when you’re not even going to let me check it?

“Where was I? Sorry, it’s hard to stay focused when you’re seven months old. Very easily distracted. Anyway, what was I talking about? Socks, right? They’re so annoying, and yet I don’t quite have the hand-eye coordination yet to pull them off. Ugh. What’s wrong with exposed feet? I like to be able to see my toes to make sure they’re still attached.

“No, wait, I wasn’t talking about socks. I was talking about fantasy baseball, right? I know my daddy is kind of obsessed with fantasy baseball, because when he feeds me at 3AM, the first thing he does is check the ESPN app on his phone to look at box scores. (Why do I still insist on waking up at 3AM to be fed? Because I am evil.) He doesn’t even really try to burp me anymore. He just gives me a couple of perfunctory slaps on the back and then moves me so my eyes can’t see the screen and starts checking all the late games. That is crazy behavior from someone who claims to want to get right back to sleep. Even once I’ve fallen asleep, sometimes he still checks the last couple of games before he puts me down. Sometimes, just to trick him, I pretend I’m asleep, wait for him to get ready to put me down, and then I open my eyes and start kicking my legs so he has to start over again with the bouncing and the ssssshhhhhing. Why can I only fall asleep when someone is bouncing and ssssshhhhing me? I don’t know, I’m just a baby, why should I know?

“What else do I know about fantasy baseball? My daddy is very mad at someone named Carlos Santana, and he should have made that trade someone offered him yesterday but he was too scared to give up on the season so early in the year. Guess what? This isn’t his year. Chris Sale is out for another month, Josh Hamilton is not going to be the same once he comes back, and that hail mary Johan Santana pick at the end of the draft? Even a seven-month-old knows that is not going to be a difference-maker.

“I do need someone to explain WHIP to me, though. What does it stand for, and who made it up? Some things in this world are just super-confusing.”



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Jeremy Blachman is the author of Anonymous Lawyer, a satirical novel that should make people who didn’t go to law school feel good about their life choices. Read more at McSweeney’s or elsewhere. He likes e-mail.



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Wobatus
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Wobatus

Yup. Got a 3 week old and I can’t help but check the box scores since I’m up anyway for the late feedings.

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