Here is what I love about the offseason and hot stove talk: Nothing.
Every year after the World Series ends my battle cry is, wake me up on opening day.
I just get tired of all the B.S. Below are random headlines from MLB.com yesterday, with my comments attached.
“Where these free agents might land.” Here’s where—whichever teams pays them the most.
“5 trades that could shake up the relief pitching market.” Relievers are a dime a dozen. Who cares?
“Betts to LA and four other trades that just might work.” Or not.
“7 teams that could make a leap in 2020.” How can you even make a semi-coherent guess about 2020 when it’s still in mid-November of 2019 and you have no idea which players are going where?
“Braves sign Martin, what’s next?” Uh, Friday. Then Saturday. Then Sunday.
“This teams could land Rendon.” Yes, one of thirty. And I can say that with 99 percent certainty that no minor league team will land him, and neither will an NFL team.
“What trades could Rangers consider?” Rougned Odor for Mike Trout? That’s my guess.
The offseason is just six months of writers making up stupid stuff because they have to say something and there’s nothing to say.
Wait, isn’t that what this site is?