Fantasy Sports Radio, Vol II: Song of draft day domination

Written by Xach on August 10, 2005

Goooooood AFTERNOON Rotogods-dot-commmmmmmmmmmmmm!

Time for weather on the threes.

It was a hot afternoon out there today in Roto Land, with an early-August high of 98-degrees. As we move into the evening, the skies will be partly cloudy and about 85-degrees with a 50% chance of Livan Hernandez sucking at Houston. The wind will be north-northeast at about 12 miles per hour, with a slight chance of showers near the edges of Salary Cap Games County. Things should only get better throughout the week. It will remain sunny through the week and into the weekend, with Friday and Satrurday highs around 90 and a 70% chance of Carlos Zambrano pitching.

You are listening to 69.9 FM, WRTO. It’s 3:04 PM, Eastern Roto Time. And now, more of that hip-hop to inspire fantasy sports domination:

4th Draft Pick Chamber
- Lyrics by Xach Stalin

Choose the back, and you will be fine
Choose the wide out first, and you join your brother in death
You don't understand my words, but you must choose
So, come boy, choose life or death

The only player I trade fo
Is a keepable basher, hits rbi like Guerrero
My spandex wearing team sucks, my own trades wrecked
The team had a dream slaughtered, I now play for next
Year. We gotta trade while we're still able
Season to season can't be playin Brett Boone, need players more stable
Hate-able, deflate-able players with which I stayed
Beltran ain't shit, Mets make superstars fade
Why does a roto team suck? Why is your pussy wet?
Why did Derrek Lee hit homers while Barry slept? Trade up
Your team's done like Tom Thumb
Blues. No more mistakes to make, your team's shitty. Understandable
Start trading for future ammunition, your mission
Eat your own team like a cannibal
Selling career enders, helping contenders is your volition
Get yours before deadlines crash and people be hissin'
I ran my roster like EL Amin, salad tosser, gifting championships on tea saucers
Built on arms of Wood and Prior, burn it in effigy, set fire

Football drafts raising cross-bone sails on masts
Mocking to see if Jason Witten lasts
My past minute's preparation won't bring draft day elation
Pass on kickers, draft one early and hear snickers
It's OK to take Julius Jones after Kevin's gone home
Even if he glistens, leave Thomas alone. Jones
Like a sniper rifle, take aim on players that fall
Fish in a net, catch em all
Avoid kicker and defense runs, just grab your guns
Make value picks by the tons, any player who catches and runs
Or be prepared for the plunge
When value lifts, all you got left is Jermaine Wiggins' tits.

Bararararar! The Beagle is reagal, he likes to McNabb the Eagles
After Payton "looks like Corky"s been taken, he's the QB steeple
Ladainian went, set new precedents. Need further evidence?
McGahee's got the mad resonance, take residence
Rule over new roto continents, your empire's dominance
Prominent receivers, Anquan Boldin, Ward, Driver
You get neither Owens nor Moss, catch the seether, open your ass wider
You'll be dealt with like rawhide by militant riders
Like King Saud, 200 wives, princes with tigers
Tap opponents' phone wires, steal their players, draw mad ire
Play on their weakness, high stakes like the Preakness
Grab what he wants, then taunt him, "your team's lookin' thin"
Just to win. Make him senti enough to punch your chin
Keep teasin', the chicks pleasin', reasons like seasons
Ever changing, revolving, falling, target chasing, like nine-glock casings
Rollin' with the punches, live drafts, three-beer lunches, the title's been stolen
Information. Rotogods. Dot-com poison.

The ranks of losers still suck for a vet
Never that good, you're never all set
It ain't hard to lose, roto glory like shoes
Stole like Air Jordans by nineties crews, young muggers pay no dues
I'm not impressed by your high power teams
Whether better than mine or some sucker's wet dream
I learned much from skilled owners who run scams
Not from lucky Herbs caught having sex on web cams
And from that, reputations drop like bombs
Draft charts fully loaded, only fools trade Lebron
Message board reactions are a fraction of strength
Quick to insult a penis's length
Win or lose, knowledge grows like terror
Crouch back, wait, declare jihad on your errors
Don't be shocked when peeps win with bad keepers
They read Rotogods, play the odds, no such thing as sleepers
Felix Hernandez, on fire, next Mark Prior
We earn our scars playing each season wire to wire

-- Written by Xach on August 10, 2005