I can't stop thinking about Desmond Jennings.
Besides his slash line, I don't know a single thing about him. I probably couldn't pick him out of a small crowd.
Yet there he sits, on my fantasy baseball team's bench, tempting me with every glance at my roster. I've seen the stats, and I've heard about the potential. He's even been compared to Andrew McCutchen, which is the ultimate way to get my heart fluttering.
I love him. And I want him. And the Tampa Bay Rays couldn't care less.
They refuse to call Jennings up to the majors. It doesn't matter that he's hitting .436 in the month of June, or that he's stolen 12 bases in 59 games at Triple A, or that the guy he'd replace, Sam Fuld, is stinking up the joint (.228/.279/.345).
It's because the Rays are cheap. This isn't necessarily a bad thing; the team couldn't survive without being frugal. It even pays off in other ways; they earned 11 of the first 74 picks in this year's draft, mostly by letting a bunch of free agents sign elsewhere.
But to me, Mr. Fantasy Baseball Player, that's not a good enough excuse. I want to drink Desmond Jennings' bathwater, and Rays executive vice president Andrew Friedman won't let me. Sometimes, it feels personal.
But that's the fun of a keeper league; you become heavily invested in certain guys. I traded Colby Rasmus last week, and while I liked the move, it's tough to let a young stud like that slip away. If Rasmus develops into a top-20 hitter, I'll never forgive myself.
Meanwhile, I feel like a genius for acquiring Jay Bruce right before he went on his amazing tear in May. I'm literally salivating at the idea of the 24-year-old Bruce socking dingers on my team for years to come. There's nothing more satisfying than being the shrewd manager who snags the star right before a breakout season.
Yes, I am very cognizant of the fact that I care way too much about all this. And it's even weirder now that I'm older than a lot of them. Few things are this engaging, though; I really enjoy forming a strange, one-sided, game-oriented bond with a bunch of random millionaire athletes. It works for me.
So, Mr. Jennings, keep mashing down in Durham. Soon, we will be together forever.