While other teams are busy making moves and taking their fans’ interest seriously, the Feesh front orifice factotems are busy looking interested in free agents they have no intention of paying what they’re worth or trades they have little interest in making. These bufones experts of long standing at the art of teasing their dozens of loyal fans. On the other hand, most of us have also become experts in seeing through this miasma of doubletalk:
Comments trickling portentously down the maracuya vine from the executive sweetshop prior to the end of the QO week had them interested in Jeremy Hellickson (fat chance) and now Kenley Jansen (right, Lord). I think Sidd Finch might have been mentioned by one of our local spawrts talk hoists, though down here they take such remarks seriously. Comments from President of Beisbol Dissimulations Mike Hill about how “pitching is our first priority” are shortly followed up by remarks like “as long as we find the right fit.” Translation: we’re not going out and bidding up expensive free agents, and we’re certainly not giving up any of our goddamned draft picks. Comments about how it might be necessary to trade some combination of Marcell the Damned or Adeiny Hechavarria are followed by assurances that “we want to keep our young core together.” Meaning: we’re not going to trade young controllable players for more accomplished players we need to pay four times as much.
The catastrophic inseason trades that brought us Andrew Cashener, who spent the rest of the season getting tattooed, and J R Rodney, whom the Feesh paid his severance fee and shot into the air, to fall to earth they cared not where, might be informing Scrooge McLoria in much the same way Waterloo informed Napoleon. Given the owner’s penchant for firing subalterns who can’t fulfill his delusions of capturing lighting in a bottle during our subtropical dry season, you have to think that the wave of injuries that brought down the Iron Giant, Justin Bour and Marcell the Damned at about the same critical time last season provided Hill and company with the smokescreen that saved their duffs when their brilliant pitching selections – the Gopher King as well as Cashner and Rodney – crapped out bigtime.
Meanwhile, the rule five draft is coming up, which is when the Feesh front orifice collectively drools like one of Pavlov’s blueticks.
Meanwhile, I am not holding my breath.