Been a while since I posted to this space. I've been busy writing on other venues, and filling my belly with delicious booze. Friends of mine came up from all points south, two weekends in a row, so I let the belt out a notch and my hair down. (how does that work you ask, with a shorn mellon?) Well it was fun at any rate, and trouble was avoided when it reared its ugly head. Now I am staring spring training square and fantasy ball in the face trying to figure what I will end up with at the 10/11 pick in the NL. I'm thinking I will make the other fools pay with Abreu and Giles. Maybe Abreu and Kent. A solid two bagger would be nice. I have to think that Jeff Kent's numbers will be above and beyond his last two years in Sam Franks Disco, sitting in the lineup he now is in. Ah. What am I thinking. I'm the one that broke Leetch, Lemieux, Brown, Griffey, and Thomas. Different sports, but they've not been the same since they graced my team. And thinking of teams, of course my team name will be the same, but so many sites I visit have leagues with team names that are so non imaginative. I've always liked our league for the original names we've garnered over the years. Many have stayed the same. In hockey, I was always "Hotplate Heaven". In baseball, the American League, I was always, "The Best Crack I Ever Smoke". (As in, "I swear to god man, it was the best crack i ever smoke!") National League, ye olde senior circuit, is my favorite, though. Taken from the King of Gonzo Journalism, HST, and a chapter out of his book, Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail, (was it that or Las Vegas?), either way, The Billion Pound Shithammer has a ring to it. For now though, I must get back to some scripting, as the Pembina Pelaton awaits!