Since Fantasy leagues are past the point where a plucky owner can make a late move, it's time to do a recap-while-looking-forward thing. Without mentioning the guys I'm tired of writing about (Robinson Cano, Nate McLouth, Brad Lidge), I'll celebrate the first half's unexpected delights -- you know, the Fantasy version of a temporary tattoo in the Cracker Jack box. From there, I'll identify the prime candidates for second-half glory and regression, cursing a lot along the way. You're welcome.
Catcher
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| Yes, we all love the Youk, but it's mostly for his pre-All-Star numbers. (Getty Images) |
Second-half swell: The Nationals have finally arrived at the conclusion that Paul Lo Duca is not the answer, unless the question is "who don't take no guff from nobody, no way or no how?" Hence Jesus Flores, who hit for more power than expected in the first half, should get every chance to convince Nat fans that Jim Bowden was a boob for wasting $6.25 million on Lo Duca and Johnny "El Casserole" Estrada. Bowden must be one hell of a great guy to have around, because his baseball acumen isn't exactly what our friends in marketing might call a "value-add." Does he play the piano? Can he barbecue?
Second-half stumble: Since we're short on success stories (and thus implosion candidates), I thought I'd comment on A.J. Pierzynski being left off the AL All-Star roster in favor of the thoroughly cooked Jason Varitek. Apparently, the players -- the ones responsible for this particular decision -- are either as ignorant as the average nose-picker fan or they really despise the irascible Pierzynski that much. Either way, it's an indefensible choice. That is all.
First base
First-half favorite: Mike Jacobs counts 19 dingers and 52 RBI to his name, yet has lost at-bats in the wake of Florida's discovery that Jorge Cantu will do harm to himself and others at any position beside first base. Don't get me wrong: Jacobs is a lousy hitter, what with the .288 OBP and all, but he's put up enough in the way of power numbers to be mildly useful for Fantasy purposes. Lowering one's standards can be refreshing, in Fantasy as in relationships.
Second-half swell: The Pirates oughta just bench Adam LaRoche until May 15 rolls around. Every year, he comes out of the gate as if heavily sedated and then proceeds to smack the dickens out of the ball once we've relegated him to the Fantasy scrapheap.
Second-half stumble: Kevin "Broooooce" Youkilis and his oft-flung batting helmet. From 2005 to 2007, he put up a .309/.410/.478 line before the All-Star break and a .249/.355/.384 line after it. Numbers are fun and educational.
Second base
First-half favorite: Ian Kinsler has performed nobly, but those familiar with the Texas home/road splits have had him on their radars for some time now. How's about Mark DeRosa, the King of Positional Flexibility and sporter of a .837 OPS, fifth best among 2B-eligible players? For those who dabble in counting stats, he's on pace for 20 homers, 80 RBI and 90 runs scored. Cherish your utility runts, kids.
Second-half swell: He's old, unable to field his position capably and surlier than a Baldwin, but Jeff Kent couldn't have lost all his plate discipline overnight, even at age 40. The Dodgers have bigger problems to worry about, so Kent should be given all the time he needs to scuffle and whine his way out of this prolonged slump.
Second-half stumble: Sooner or later, pitchers will get wise to Dan Uggla's grunt-n-smash approach to the game. When they do, maybe Uggla will reconsider his "I don't watch no fancy videotape -- I just go up there and hit it" preparatory regimen.
Third base
First-half favorite: Let's take a minute out from drafting Evan Longoria fan fiction ("So Evan and Buffy totally beat up Gollum, and got married and had six children who love comic books. The end.") and imagine how Aubrey Huff must feel nowadays. He was exiled from Tampa right before the organization figured out the difference between a pitcher and a belly itcher, and has been taking out his frustration on hurlers to the tune of a just-like-the-old-days .282/.343/.530. And still he cries himself to sleep at night, longing for the architectural marvel that is Tropicana Field.
Second-half swell: Chone Figgins still gets on base (.378 OBP), still swipes bags consistently and he still spells his name wrong. The runs and extra-base hits will eventually come, just as they have in years past. If you insist on scapegoating, blame the donkey hitters behind Figgins. I love the Angels' pitching and grittytudinousness, but they don't get past the divisional round with this batting order.
Second-half stumble: Joe Crede, All-Star: .263/.338/.488, 38 runs, 16 HRs, 49 RBI. Miguel Cabrera, big fat stupid disappointment to his team and his family: .291/.356/.495, 42 runs, 15 HRs, 53 RBI. There has to be a more rational way to acknowledge what the White Sox have achieved so far.
