What Was I Thinking?

I’m sure we’ve all asked ourselves that question when looking at a certain name or two on our rosters. How could I have drafted him?

Jeff Quinton of BP writes a series of articles on drafting strategies, trying to get inside the head of the guy sitting at the draft table (whether it’s you or somebody else). These articles are way over my head. I cannot think while drafting.

The best I can do (and I really do this) is spend time preparing for the draft. I look at my team, my remaining salary under the cap, and the list of eligible players, and I come up with a list that has four or five possibilities for each pick that I plan to draft.

Unlike Ron, I don’t budget for each pick. My observation is that this leads to excessive pickle juice. Ron really thinks that he can guess what other people will do (in my case he’s usually right, but I’m easy). Unfortunately for Ron, and fortunately for the rest of us, he’s not really that good, and here come the pickles.

A lot of times, when I get to the draft, something unexpected happens, and my plans go into the (virtual) toilet. The reason this happens a lot is that I have NO ability to predict what other people are going to do. This is because I assume that they’re all like me, and will do what I would do. I know that’s not true, and it’s totally irrational, but it’s all I’ve got.

So most of the time, something strange happens. Like in this year’s end-of-April (really mid-May) draft. Everybody knew that Kris Bryant was the most desirable player on the list. (I knew that, so I assumed everyone else did.) And because of a regrettable lack of restraint on my part during the rookie draft, most of the other teams had more money than I did. And everyone had more roster spots. (What can I say? I have a thing for rookies. Ron thinks it’s a strategy, because he’s strategic, but it’s just a thing.)

So there was no way I was getting Kris Bryant. He wasn’t on my carefully prepared list. Didn’t even consider him, really.  In fact I wanted him off the board, figuring that somebody would have to spend big bucks to get him, and that would make my meager budget a little more powerful. So when it was my turn to draft, I said,

“Kris Bryant, half a million.”

There were the expected groans about the low bid. But really, sometimes you do that just to push the initiative over to someone else. I can handle groans (see Alcantara, Arismendy).

Peshastin IS predictable, this year. He said “Eight million.” Honestly, the man is transparent.

And that’s when it happened. The unpredictable. The totally unforeseen X-factor event that destroys so many of my monthly EFL meetings. We went around the table, and nobody bid!

It got clear around back to me, at eight million. And frankly, Peshastin’s tactic annoys me. I don’t like to see him getting away with it – which is exactly what had happened up to that moment. He wants shock and awe? He’s not getting it from me. So I said,

“Eight and a half.”

Ooh, it felt good, watching him deflate. He knew he had competition, now. I enjoy a little shock and awe, myself. And I was at no risk – surely he would go even higher.

Jamie passed. I kinda thought he might go for him – he had plenty of money – but he must’ve got the same memo everyone else did. I didn’t get it, that’s for sure, and I still don’t.

And then it happened again. The inexplicable, impossible, no-way-hozay happened again. Peshastin passed. And I got stuck with Bryant.

What was I thinking?