Things you couldn't care less about: Obligatory fantasy update

If you take over first place in a fantasy league where nobody's really participating, does it make a sound? Does it resonate with anybody at all? Or is everybody in this league really that bad? And how bad am I for having spent a majority of this season struggling to catch a guy who hasn't made a single adjustment to his roster since the draft day when he picked his team?

Before you begin pondering that litany of questions, however, let me remind you what my roster originally looked like back on the eve of April. And this was my attitude less than three weeks into the season. And now? Well ...:

... there's been a few changes, you could say. Actually, there's been a few guys who've been dropped only to be added again. I take comfort in the fact that at least there's one other person in the league who's made more moves than me—and even then, is still behind me in the standings.

Still, I remember telling bro-in-law (currently in fifth, for the record) how this was the first team that I myself was responsible for drafting (not including Pujols—whom I would've taken with that first pick anyway) and thus I would be hesitant to make any moves since I'd prefer to believe I drafted a dynamite little roster.

Of course, then the problems began with crazy shit like Carlos Zambrano being moved to the bullpen (yeah, that really happened) and it didn't take long for me to begin pulling the trigger on dumping a number of guys in favor of players that I couldn't believe nobody had nabbed yet. After all, if you recall how my very first fantasy endeavor worked out when I hesitated on making moves while holding out hope that my boys would just "get it together," well ... the dead last finish remains my biggest blemish on that Yahoo fantasy profile—not to mention a reminder of what you get for not making the moves when you have the chance.

And when you also consider how the early dealing in the fantasy hockey leagues led to two first-place finishes there, it becomes obvious that I can't get too attached to any players on my team (except for Pujols ... and any Bravos, of course—but that's it ... really). The result so far is this screengrab to the left that shows the list of many, many different players that has contributed to my scoring so far this season.

It also became obvious to me that—much like those hockey leagues—as the only person not woefully behind at some position on the roster, I'm the only person caring about how this thing turns out. And that goes not just for the smack talk within the league (of which there has been none, really), but in conversing about my team with friends or other members of the general public with absolutely no involvement whatsoever in the league—and maybe never in fantasy anything.

And so I've kept my mouth shut for a majority of the summer about this latest fantasy sport, now having realized why football remains the king of fantasy sports since the 16-game schedule of NFL teams is much more accommodating for people who want to participate but also maintain, you know ... having real lives to live.

I would often listen to people tell me about their fantasy teams with no real understanding about what anything really meant, me just sort of nodding or saying "Yeah" when he or she mentioned a player I recognized. After the conversation would end, I'd probably murmur something to myself about, "Like I fucking care about your dumbass fantasy team."

Let this post then forever stand as my acknowledgment to the fact that you, dear reader, could not give two shits about my fantasy team. Still, it's July and I'm hurting for posts, and if I'm going to mention this fantasy stuff, I might as well do it at the moment I'm in first.

And just to end things with an example of the daily second-guessing I experience, I'll mention that my second-most recent move in the league was dropping Mets pitcher R.A. Dickey to pick up Twins pitcher Brian Duensing. It seemed logical since Dickey's name had the little icon denoting an injury following this game, and my pitching was something I had really not trifled with nearly as much as my hitting.

Fast-forward to today, where Dickey starts and is actually on the brink of a complete game (a category I'm second-last in, for the record), when my No. 1 pick—who's been struggling the past few weeks—comes to the plate. Surely, nothing would be sweeter than ruining the Dickey effort with a mammoth three-run homer, right?

Right?

Yes, that would have been sweet, indeed.

Instead, what I got was this. Now all I could think about was which would be worse: Pujols driving in runs off one of my relievers or "K-Rod" getting a quick save by keeping one of my biggest bats cold.

This, for the record, was how things turned out. And now I have to wonder if Dickey was really the right guy to drop. And as of my typing this, I've somehow dropped a point today, meaning that I'm in second place, a half-point behind.

Oh, and you don't care—not that you should. I'll try to concoct a reason that you should have an interest the next time I post one of these updates; or, more likely, at least find a better way to make fun of myself so as not come off like the very homunculus mongoloids I used to cite and would risk coming too close to resembling.