Thursday, September 21, 2006
Our Fantasy Baseball Pool has been one of my favorites for a number of reasons. I started in the league knowing absolutely nothing, but quickly gained a reputation for making horrible draft picks based on funny last names; picking up some awesome up-and-comers; and making about 100 more transactions than anybody else. (Stupid Mark implemented a move limit in every single league we've had since then.) I should mention that this season I still have EIGHT of my original 21 draft picks, a new record for me! (In comparison, Nick still has 13 of his original guys, while Spigs has 14).

Another mainstay in our leagues has been the agonizing dominance of one John B. Spigott, who has won the league championship for 3 straight seasons. The trash talk, oh the trash talk...it has been epic. Originally his team was The Green Bastard, but this season that became The Green Dynasty. Also, he refers to himself in the third person as The Champ. But what could we do in the face of such audacity? He won. He had scoreboard. All we could do was shake our fists and vow to topple him from his throne next season.

I've been a thorn in Spigs' side whenever I could. First, I won our NBA pool in 2004, displeasing him greatly because it denied him, as he put it, the "holy trinity." (I don't remember if that was the year where my team was all Williams's, or if that was the year my team was CARLOS BOOOOOOOOZER) Then I beat him in the baseball regular season last year, though he still went on to win overall.

But it all came to a pinnacle last Sunday, when my team "The Papelbon Attack" (named for a rookie phenom I grabbed early in the season named Jon Papelbon) knocked him out of the first round of our baseball playoffs. Ironically, one of his posts on the baseball board from months back almost foreshadowed this, as Spigs wrote the following:

As an aside, the Champ would like to tip the cap to Mr. Papp. For the Champ, watching Papp turn into a fantasy guru is like watching a son learn how to walk. Maybe guru isn't the right word. At least he's competent, which is more then can be said for certain J-schoolers. (Looking at you, Silver.) Now, the Champ realizes there is an 87% chance Papp picked up Papelbon because his name kind of sounds like Papp, and picked up Willingham because of his bizzare fetish with ham (which the Champ missed the boat on.) That said, Papp is infinitely more knowledgeable than McInnis, and two years ago if you asked Papp who a good fantasy pickup would be, he would have given you a blank stare, pushed you down a flight of stairs and stole your wallet. Well done.
Clearly, this monumental event deserved more than my usual response (a mocking, ironic deco-style baseball news story.) This was something special. So on Monday I looked up his newspaper, noted the address and googled a few addresses which would be next door...minus 10 or plus 10, that kind of thing. I found out that there was a Chinese restaurant next door, and I tried to call them to get them to deliver some "misfortune cookies" and a message...but no one answered the phone.

So instead, I called up his paper and booked a small ad to run that Wednesday, billed to Frank Papp. I had to make it kind of vague, so they would have no problem with running it, but it had to have a certain kick to it as well. This was the ad:



I was hoping he would be laying out his stories on Monday and see in big bold letters FRANK PAPP staring up at him, but just in case I also called on Wednesday, found out what page the ad had run on, and left a cryptic message on his voicemail to check that page. His reaction was swift:

Frank Papp, rest assured B7 has an eternal spot on the Champ's wall of fame in the newsroom. Once again, you do not disappoint. The only disappointing thing is the champ had to listen to that message 5 times to figure out what the fuck was going on. He actually considered the possiblility someone had placed anthrax in his copy of the paper on his desk. However, this proved to be much better. If someone were to end the dynasty, the champ is pleased to have it ended by somebody who is legally insane.

Regards, The Champ
The Green Bastard
Honestly, looking back (and it's only been a week) I would definitely rank this in the top 5 of my finest/meanest moments ever. I told Nick and Mark about the ad, and here were their reactions:

Mark: Are you kidding me? Are you kidding me? I don't think anything will ever top that. Nothing short of getting his paper to do a front-page story on the loss. Either way, well played. Papp, you're the smartest, meanest guy I know. Keep up the good work. GREATEST. THING. EVER.

Nick: Outstanding. If I had a medal to give out for Jackassery, you surely would win this week. I don't want to get all sappy on you (mostly cuz I secretly hate you), but I can honestly say that, with the exception of the time you got interogated by cops for Sifton Ave. Mischief, and the time you revamped your first-ever Deco to stick it in shawn thompson's face, I've never been prouder of you.

High praise indeed.


[posted by Rades at 9:00 AM] LINK ||