Thanks to the able relief work of Bill Butland

So those of you out there who read this and know me, already are aware of this. Those of you out there who merely read this have probably thought to yourselves, at least once... "Damn, this guy's a geek."

Yes. Yes I am. And here's more fuel for that fire.

In addition to playing poker and fantasy football, things pretty much any normal well adjusted man should do, I also play simulation sports. Basically, it uses a software that takes into consideration what the player actually did that season, and recreates games. For baseball I'm in Strat-o-Matic leagues. For basketball, I'm in leagues that use Jim Moore's UBA program.

Anyway, what I really am writing to say is that right now I'm playing the 1942 World Series with my tremendous squad. The league started in 1939 and I drafted for the future. And when I say for the future, I meant I sucked BAD in 1939, 39-123 (yes, 162 game seasons). But it's been steady improvement since: from godawful to bad to mediocre to this season's 90-72 creamy goodness. And in our first attempt at the playoffs, we defeated a team led by young Stan Musial to advance to the World Series.

And right now, my Moscow Red Devils took one on the road to even the seven game series with the Philadelphia A's at one game apiece. Ted Williams is the A's big star.

So who's on my team? My staff is led by Tommy Hughes, whose best season came in 1942. Supplementing him on the playoff staff are Spud Chandler, Hal Newhouser and Bill Lohrman. Bill Butland is the hammer in my pen, early 40s style. The hitting attack is led by Bobby Estalella (the current catcher's granddaddy), Roy Cullenbine (who Billy Beane would love), Pete Reiser (who had this fatal attraction to walls), Tommy Henrich and Babe Phelps. While this is something of a last hurrah for some of these guys - Hughes, Phelps, Henrich and Reiser for a few years, I've got young players ready to step in. I'm stoked! STOKED!


And I'm a geek.