Dear Leaguemates,

As you all know, our fantasy baseball experience this past season was, well, less than ideal. After the death of two of our owners in separate trade-related incidents, I think it’s time we rethink some of our rules. Obviously adding a new provision prohibiting the killing of fellow league members in trade-related circumstances is a no-brainer, but I think we need to go even further than that. To that end, I’m proposing a series of reforms:

(1) The job of commissioner– as Joe’s devastating illness so vividly taught us– is too big a job for one person. I propose one commissioner for rules, one commissioner for transactions, one commissioner solely in charge of mediating e-mail based disputes, one commissioner responsible for mediating in-person disputes, one commissioner tasked with resolving disputes among the other commissioners, one commissioner overseer, one commissioner who just needs to hold onto the checks and not spend everyone’s money (and it won’t be you, Joe– no matter what your medical insurance premiums cost now), and one commissioner in charge of spelling. For the last time, one of them is Zimmerman, and one of them is Zimmermann. And if anyone screws it up again, you’re going to be the next one dead.

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I just had an idea for a fun project. Let’s find an MLB Player with one of the fewest numbers of Twitter followers and make him really happy.

My quick investigation tells me it’s definitely not Nick Swisher, who has 1,446,260 followers.

So here are my nominees:

Jordan Lyles (1,406 followers):

Twitter / @jordanlyles41: Red head in Shooter.. #wif … via kwout

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Did you know you can search every place name in the U.S.? Here, now you can waste even more time than I did. Presenting: the most pointless list ever. If there are readers who live in any of these places, you are obligated to post in the comments.

I hereby propose a new Independent Baseball League, with teams in the following sabermetrically-friendly locations:

Eastern Division
The Fipsters, of FIPps Crossing, in Columbus, NC
The Winners, of WAR, in McDowell, WV
The Babips, of BIPpus, in Huntington, IN
The Walkers, of WHIPray Basin, in Monroe, FL

Western Division
The Wappers, of WPA Dam, in Muskogee, OK
The Zippers, of ZIPS Cabin, in White Pine, NV
The Ultimate Ratings, of ZONE Creek, in Dillingham, AK
The Powers, of ISOlated Peak, in Boulder, CO

Howdy, folks. It’s that time of year again, when the BWABBA entrusts me to be one of the proud voters for the Baseball Hall o’ Fame. The ballot instructions are clear: “Voting shall be based upon the player’s record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character, and contributions to the team(s) on which the player played.” Some voters like to assign numbers to each of those categories and do some sort of math thing. Even if I knew how to use a calculator, which I don’t, I don’t think you can decide the value of anything based on a number. That would be like going into a restaurant and choosing your meal based on the price. I don’t want to know what food costs. I just want to eat it. That, my friends, is a J.G. Taylor Spunk Award-winning analogy, which is why I know I’m in line to make it into that Hall one day for my writin’ ablilities. The Spunk Award will one day be mine. Where were we now? Oh, yes, the ballot. Here we go.

A lot of talk this year about BARRY LARKIN. I don’t really understand it. Did he bat .300? Nope. Career .295. I don’t want to dilute my hall with people who couldn’t get a hit at least 300 out of every… wait, how do we do the batting average again? 300 hits out of every 100 times at bat. Yeah, that sounds right. So, .295, which is like 500 fewer hits every season… I say no. Besides, he didn’t even come close to that magic number of 300 wins. He had, um, I think it’s zero. So, it’s a no. Although I will revisit next year if we find out he did drugs or something. That might explain the shortfall and give me a reason to vote for him.

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So, I was reading Dayn Perry’s highly informative post yesterday about putting your baseball hat in the dishwasher. Of course, I had to turn to Google to find out the answers to some burning follow-up questions, like:

(1) Can I also put a glove in the dishwasher?
(2) How about a bat?

When I discovered a truly horrifying piece of news from last summer that doesn’t seem to have gotten the attention it deserves.

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How about a contest?

If my fantasy track record is any indication, I can pick injured players better than most. I thought I might take a look into the future and try to predict 2012’s All-Injured Team. A few rules:

1. Must be currently signed.
2. Must not currently be expected to be out for the season (Tommy John Surgery)
3. Will be judged at the end of the year by days missed

There is no prize except pride. Maybe in-season rankings, if enough people throw a list in the comments, and I’m sufficiently lacking in inspiration once every couple of months and want to post something that just requires a calculator.

Okay, great, here we go. Presenting…

My 2012 All-Injured Team
Sponsored by the folks at America’s Worst Hospital.

C: Adam Moore. Okay, maybe it’s cheating to pick a player who’s basically been injured since 2010, no longer has either of his knees, and isn’t even expected to play a major role on the team. But MLB.com insists he passed his Arizona Fall League test with “flying cartilage.” Sorry, “flying colors.” So, hey, if someone expects him to be healthy, he counts. I expect to see some Joe Mauers in the comments.

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1/14/2012
28-year-old catcher Kurt Suzuki to the Tampa Bay Rays for 20-year-old pitchers Enny Romero and Felipe Rivero.

7/3/2012
28-year-old pitcher Brandon McCarthy to the Miami Marlins for 21-year-old catcher J.T. Realmuto and 23-year-old OF/1B Mark Canha.

11/28/2013
29-year-old shortstop Cliff Pennington to the Los Vancouver Dodgers for 23-year-old pitcher Allen Webster. The Dodgers then trade Pennington to the Los Angeles Angels of The Entire Los Angeles Metropolitan Area for 30-year-old first baseman Kendrys Morales, who is looking forward to finally returning for the 2014 season after more than three years of rehab from his leg, ankle, foot, toe, toenail, and toenail lint injuries.

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Inspired by, and mostly stolen from, this MLB.com piece about Austin Jackson, but this is not really about Austin Jackson, unless saying it’s about Austin Jackson will make you more interested in reading it.

YOUR CITY — Your favorite team has spent part of their offseason looking at alternatives at troubled position, but that doesn’t mean they’ve given up on young struggling player doing things they wish that young struggling player would do.

On the contrary, they still see potential there. But they see some maturing to do in a bunch of critical baseball skills.

Somewhere between the rookie sensation who did something statistically unrepeatable, and the sophomore who reverted back to the mean, there’s the real young struggling player. That’s what your favorite team believes, and they hope time and teaching will bring out that form.

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A few paragraphs into this New York Times article about the Mets owners seeking minority investors and I lost track of whether I was reading an actual news piece or something that was trying to be funny. Apparently the Mets think rich people want to give them $20 million without getting anything in return. How is “access to Mr. Met” not a joke? Mr. Met is a guy in a costume. And it’s lovely that they want to give their investors a weekend’s stay at spring training and discounts — discounts! — on MLB.com merchandise. These people have $20 million to spare on a meaningless fraction of a terrible baseball team, that comes with no control over what the team does. I think they can afford to pay full price for a hat, if they even want one. David Brown has already written a piece for Yahoo about ten things someone can do with their “access” to Mr. Met — a more family-friendly list than the one that first came to mind for me — so I’ll skip that angle and try something slightly different.

Eight More Meaningless Perks To Mets Minority Ownership that the Times article inadvertently left out:

1. Free mustard on every full-price Citi Field hot dog you purchase.

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