Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Fantasy Golf: The Canadian Open Preview

I think successfully picking Jordan Spieth last week and then recommending nine stiffs to go along with him (the best of whom was Adam Scott at T22nd) warrants a half-assed effort on this particular preview (as opposed to the others?). Not to mention, it's the Canadian Open which is the Labatt Blue Light of Opens so I don't see the need to exert a lot of mental energy (again, as opposed to?). Besides, I've got a story to tell that involves Tom Petty, fried chicken and a blacked-out Baltimore hon trying to pull-off a one woman performance of Cirque du Soleil (I'm getting really good at these teases) so I'm going to work on that now instead.

As for the Canadian Open, who knows? At least they're playing the same course for the third year in a row so we have a modicum of data. Last year perennial wild card and aptly named Johnny Vegas beat Dustin Johnson, Jon Rahm and Martin Laird by a stroke but right behind them was the fearsome trio of Ricky Barnes, Alex Cejka and Steve Wheatcroft (and Brandt Snedeker who is . . . ahem . . . injured and sitting-out this week). In 2015, Jason Day beat Bubba Watson by a shot but they were pursued by the likes of David "Feel the" Hearn, Stewart "Who Pissed in the" Cink and Tom "Eggplant Parmigiana" Hoge (Mom . . . he's doing the nickname thing again!). 


The one kind of constant through both events (and through life for the matter) has been human sundial Jim Furyk who finished 13th in 2016 and 4th in 2015. He's struggled with injuries this year which is how the cosmos deals with Steeler fans but he's made his past three cuts with respectable finishes of T23, T26 and T35, though that last one was at the Barbasol Championship (because when you want 1970's shaving cream technology or a sponsor for an event full of guys who couldn't get into the British Open . . . BARBASOL!). I like Furyk's chances this week and not just because I've run out of better options (though that's definitely a major factor). 

Matt Kuchar is a popular pick but I don't care how positive your attitude is, that trucking he took on the final five holes last Sunday has to make even Kooch feel like "fuck this" or in his case, "after a five year courtship, full approval from her parents and marriage . . . have sex with this." If that happened to me, I wouldn't even want to pick up a club for a month though I tend to feel that way after I slightly mishit a 9- iron so I might not be the best one to ask.

Flag enhancement photography
has come a long way in 2017.
The One and Done Pick: Jim Furyk

The DraftKings Top Ten Value Picks

Charley Hoffman
$10,300
Tony Finau
$9,500
Jim Furyk
$9,100
Graham DeLaet
$8,300
Ben Martin
$8,200
Kevin Tway
$7,700
Chad Campbell
$7,500
Adam Hadwin
$7,400
Daniel Summerhays
$7,000
Patrick Rodgers
$7,000

Email the Fantasy Golf Report at fgr@fantasygolfreport.com. 

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Fantasy Golf: The British Open Preview Part 2

Before we get to the FGR picks below, please indulge me in one of my favorite pastimes - the bashing of other golf publications ("other publications?") for being completely devoid of any creativity, insight or imagination. The stale bagel that is golf writing is essentially what inspired the Fantasy Golf Report in the first place so let's go ahead and pay homage to it. Again.

This week's target is Golf Digest which recently posted its 11 Sneaky British Open Picks. First of all, what in the hell does that even mean? What's sneaky - Golf Digest or the players it picked? I'm assuming it's the latter because Golf Digest couldn't sneak-up on a dead cat as evidenced by this piece in which its computer model for the British Open picks Jordan Spieth, Dustin Johnson, Jon Rahm, Jason Day, Henrik Stenson, Hideki Matsuyama, Rory McIlroy, Brooks Koepka, Rickie Fowler and Adam Scott. That must have been some computer to take the top ten players in the world, sub Brooks Koepka for Sergio Garcia, Adam Scott for Alex Noren AND THEN re-rank them. I'd hate to square-off against that obvious offspring of Deep Blue in a game of Chutes and Ladders.


So let's see what Golf Digest came-up with when they decided to think outside the box and get their sneak on. Go ahead boys. Lace-up those spikeless golf shoes we know you wear around the office and dazzle us.       


Paul Casey: He's the 16th ranked player in the world and finished 6th at the Masters. He also finished tied for 7th the last time the Open was at Royal Birkdale. Not exactly Todd Hamilton or Ben Curtis. We're not off to a very sneaky start. 


Rickie Fowler: Ok now we've moved up to the10th ranked player in the world who also has previous British Open finishes of T2nd and T5th. His odds this week are 14 to 1 which puts him second behind only Jordan Spieth. Kind of seems more obvious than sneaky but hey, it's not like they picked a recent champion.


Yes I think we can all agree that
it would be hard to picture Zach
Johnson holding the Claret Jug.
Zach Johnson: He finished T9th in 2012, T6th in 2013 and oh yeah, he won the damn thing way back in 2015. If they had made this sneaky list in 1974, there is little doubt that Tom Watson would've been on it.   

Martin Kaymer: Kaymer's sneaky qualifications include two majors with the most recent being the 2014 U.S. Open which he won right after winning the Players. He also has a WGC title to go along with eight European Tour wins. Clearly no one would see him coming this weekend.

Matt Kuchar: Kuch is the 18th ranked player in the world and finished T4th at this year's Masters to go along with his seven other top tens in majors and his seven PGA Tour wins. Other than that and being considered one of the best players yet to win a major, Kuch is a total darkhorse.   

Marc Leishman: OK here we go. Leishman is ranked a lowly 34th in the world so now we're getting somewhere but wait. He finished T5th at the 2014 British Open and lost to Zach Johnson in the 2015 playoff. He also has the same odds (45 to 1) as 2013 champ and 2016 runner-up Phil Mickelson so if he's sneaking by anybody, it sure as hell ain't the bookies. 

Alex Noren: Noren is the 9th ranked player in the world and he's won five times in the past fifty-three weeks. Maybe he's considered sneaky because he's Swedish but he's not Henrik Stenson. At least I don't think he is. Has anyone ever seen them in the same place? Now THAT would be sneaky. 


Louis Oosthuizen: The 2010 champion and 2015 runner-up? Come on. Now you're just fucking with us. (At this point I feel compelled to swear that I did not make this list up just to mock Golf Digest. It's like they did it for me. I know right).


Thomas Pieters: Pieters is the 30th ranked player in the world and he finished T4th at the Masters and T5th at the WGC-Mexico. Almost everyone who follows golf thinks he's on the verge of winning a major now but that would come as a complete surprise to the folks over at Golf Digest because apparently what they're actually publishing is a cooking magazine with a really misleading name.  


Ian Poulter: Despite the fact that Poulter just finished 2nd at the Players and he's got three top tens at the British including a runner-up at Royal Birkdale in 2008 and a T3rd in 2013, I guess he could be considered a sleeper based on his erratic play of late. Only one problem, he's everyone's freakin' sleeper this year which officially negates his sleeper status. And you you know what that makes him don't you? That's right. NOT SNEAKY! 


I think I hear Patrick.
Patrick Reed: Patrick Reed has sucked lately with only one top ten in a full field event since last fall. (Believe me, as a stakeholder, I've been paying attention). So, to the extent that a brash loud-mouthed 22nd ranked player in the world can be described as sneaky, we'll begrudgingly give Golf/Cooking Digest this one. We're dicks but we're fair.

Well that was fun. Now let's get down to the real business of picking favorites and underdogs as opposed to dipping half a toe in the water on a list of pseudo sleepers.

THE FGR BRITISH OPEN VALUE PICKS

There's a lot of love for Jordan Spieth ($11,600) this week and for good reason. He's hot and when he gets hot, he tends to stay hot. If you ignore the U.S. Open at TPC Erin Hills, his last three finishes are T2nd, T13th and a win at the Travelers when he didn't appear to have his "A" game. He's going to win at least a couple British Opens because he doesn't mind scrapping it around in the wind and he loves to grind. He's like an Ian Poulter who can close. 

Sergio Garcia ($10,600) and Adam Scott ($8,500) have the dubious distinction of pocketing the most money at the British Open without winning it. The people who knock their putting coming into this event are the same ones who can't decide whether the Open favors a ball striker or a putter. This just in. The Open doesn't appear to have a type when you consider it's been won by everyone from Henrik Stenson and Rory McIlroy to Zach Johnson and Justin Leonard. The one thing that both Sergio and Scott excel at is pummeling irons through the wind and that always plays around these parts.   

As noted above, Louis Oosthuizen ($8,300) won this thing in 2010 and came within a putt of winning it again in 2015. He's had moderate success in other years so he's a feast or famine pick which is why I backed-off him as my one and done guy. On the other hand, he hasn't missed a cut since this time last year so maybe I need to rethink that five times and change my pick every two hours tomorrow.


Charl Schwartzel ($7,300) is a bit of an enigma but, if he's been steady anywhere, it's at the Open where he has five top 20's. Ignore the fact that he's coming-in off a run of M/C, T2nd, T35th, W/D, M/C and a 3rd at the Masters because that's just his way. And speaking of enigmas, I give you Padraig Harrington ($7,200) who has returned from injury to some fairly steady play including a T4th in Scotland. He also has two Open titles to his credit including the last one played at Royal Birkdale. (Editor's Note: Paddy is way too trendy this week and the FGR is being a jackass on this one so look elsewhere in this price range like Francesco Molinari at $7,300 . . . but you didn't hear it from me).

Never gets old.
Now we get to the real values and you have to love the majors because of the talent down in the low $7,000's and high $6,000's. Andy Sullivan ($7,000) finished T9th last week and he's just the kind of stocky Brit built for the Open as evidenced by his T12th last year. (We're also intrigued by Thorbjorn Oleson at $7,000).

Steve Stricker ($6,900) is a bit of a sentimental pick but he finished 4th at last year's Open and he would've won the John Deere Classic last week if he hadn't botched the front nine on Thursday. Brandt Snedeker ($6,800) loves this tournament and is getting his act together at just the right time coming-off a T9th and T14th. If he's going to win a major, it will be a British Open. (Editor's Note: Right on cue, Snedeker drops-out with his 47th rib injury. Go with Oleson or Soren Kjeldsen at $6,900 instead).

And finally, for my bargain pick I was going to go with Rafa Cabrera-Bello but I see him as more of a top twenty threat than a guy who could actually win. So instead I'm going with Daniel Berger ($6,700). He's been on absolute fire lately with a win, a 2nd and a T5th which have propelled him to No. 20 in the world. His major resume is somewhat limited but you gotta start somewhere and he's the kind of guy who will carry that as a chip on his shoulder.

FOUR PLAYERS I'M AVOIDING LIKE THE BLACK DEATH

Tommy Fleetwood ($9,800) is getting way too much attention for a guy who's only made two cuts in majors and is zero for three at the Open. Look for him on the list of notables not playing this weekend. 

People always gravitate towards Shane Lowry ($7,900) this week because he looks like he should win a Claret Jug but the fact is that he's missed the cut in three of his last four majors along with his last two Opens (remember that beards are always hiding something). So many better options in that price range (Marc Leishman and Lee Westwood to name a couple). 

We've discussed Ian Poulter ($7,500) and all I can think about is that second shot on the 72nd hole at the Players that almost vacated the property. A couple of those this week and he's toast. 

And finally, there's Peter Uihlein ($6,800), the fountain of unrealized European potential (where he plays not where he's from). One of these years he's going to break through (maybe) but he's only played in three majors since 2011 and he hasn't made the cut in any of them so how in the wide world of fuck is he the same price as Brandt Snedeker and more expensive than Kevin Kisner, Rafa Cabrera-Bello, Jason Dufner and Bill Haas to name just a few? Love him @PeterUihlein on Twitter but hate him on DraftKings this week.                   


Email the Fantasy Golf Report at fgr@fantasygolfreport.com.

Monday, July 17, 2017

Fantasy Golf: The British Open Preview Part 1

There are two ways to win a debate: (1) Craft a well thought-out argument that both emphasizes your positive points while slamming the door on any valid counterpoints by delegitimizing them before they're even raised; and/or (2) Have your opponent completely implode under the pressure of the moment and gift you the victory Atlanta Falcons style. Under the second scenario, your job is to generally just sit back, don't get in the way of it and let it unfold in all of its gut-wrenching splendor. If you're feeling especially cocksure, however, you might as well wipe your opponent off the map so that he/she doesn't come back to kill your whole family Arya Stark style.  

And in a segue that made more sense when I was conceptualizing it, that brings us to the debate over which is the second best major in golf. Now some will argue that the Masters is not #1 and even fewer will make the case that the PGA Championship is not #4 but, for the sake of getting to the point and not suffering the ill-founded opinions of a bunch of outlying nitwits, let's assume that we're dealing with rational people here so that the battle for #2 is between the U.S. Open and the British Open

Still too soon.
Coming-out of 2013, you could've made a compelling case for either. Justin Rose had just won a classic U.S. Open at Merion over a top five that included Jason Day, Phil Mickelson and Jason Dufner. Then Phil played an epic back nine at Muirfield to run away from a pack that included Henrik Stenson, Adam Scott, Lee Westwood and Tiger Woods. Both tournaments were riding high and had put years between themselves and their most recent suspect champions.

Then in 2014, Martin Kaymer opened with a pair of 65's at Pinehurst to take a six shot lead over Lerch from the Addams Family impersonator Brendon Todd before eventually stretching it to an eight shot win over Erik Compton and Rickie Fowler. I distinctly remember only watching about a half dozen shots that weekend because it was so obvious that Kaymer wasn't going to be caught. Fast forward to the 2014 British Open where you had a somewhat similar scenario unfold with three key differences: (1) The guy blowing-up was Rory and he's in that small class of players with Tiger and Phil who are almost as entertaining to watch in a runaway as they are in a nail-biter; (2) The pursuers were more intriguing as they included Fowler, Dustin Johnson and Sergio Garcia ; and (3) It actually tightened-up a bit on Sunday and the guy doing the tightening was Sergio so we knew that we were either going to be treated to some drama or we were going to get to watch him come-up short. Again. And remember, that was before he somehow managed to become endearing so watching him falter was fun. 

The real tipping point in the debate, however, came in 2015 when the USGA's decision to sell-out was put on full display at Chambers Bay, a golf course unfit for the raising of livestock. Gary Player called it "the worst golf course I might've ever seen" and Stenson said the greens were like "putting on broccoli." The week could've been salvaged with a playoff but D.J.'s putting and the greens took care of that on the 72nd hole. The British Open then responded with a three-man playoff at St. Andrews. You know, the home of golf. If 2015 was a singing contest, the USGA gave us drunk Lori from accounting singing a karaoke version of Mambo No. 5 and the R&A responded with Marvin Gaye performing the national anthem.

"Don't touch anything until me and Flash can
get down there to start touching everything."
And from there the spread just got wider. In 2016, the USGA handled the Dustin Johnson ruling like Roscoe P. Coltrane and Chief Wiggum setting-up a crime scene which negated any goodwill they might have engendered by actually playing on a major caliber golf course (Oakmontgate: Winners and Losers). The British Open then went for the jugular by producing arguably the most riveting two-man display of golf that a major Sunday has ever seen with Stenson and Mickelson shooting a 65 and a 63 respectively to lap the field. 

And most recently we had the birdie fest at the soon to be renamed TPC Erin HillsSeven guys at -10 or better? Pfffft. If the U.S. Open was the Black Knight of Monty Python fame, that would've represented the lopping-off of his last limb. I'm not even sure a comeback is possible this decade.

Or maybe, just maybe, this is the week when the scale starts to tip back towards this side of the Atlantic. I mean it's not as if Royal Birkdale has a history of great champions like Arnold Palmer, Tom Watson, Lee Trevino and Johnny Miller (uh oh). Even its damn lower tier winners like Mark O'Meara, Padraig Harrington and Peter Thomson all have multiple major titles. And the last time they hosted, the leaderboard included Greg Norman, Ian Poulter, Henrik Stenson and Jim Furyk in the top five so we could finally be in store for the showdown between some combination of D.J., Spieth, Day, Rory, Sergio and Rose that we've been waiting for since the middle of last year (don't forget Jon Rahm). In short, I don't see the British Open giving any ground this week (nor do I want it to).   

As far as I'm concerned, the debate ended for now with Stenson and Mickelson last year but, if we get any kind of leaderboard combined with some Sunday drama over in Southport, then the U.S. Open will be firmly entrenched in the #3 spot for the foreseeable future. Then again, its next three stops are Shinnecock, Pebble Beach and Winged Foot. I'm pretty sure not even the USGA can fuck those up but, if anyone can, it's the Keystone Cops on crank.

Tomorrow we'll get to some picks. See you then. Can't wait.    

Email the Fantasy Golf Report at fgr@fantasygolfreport.com.                          

Friday, July 14, 2017

Hey George, the Ocean Called . . .

My favorite Seinfeld episode without question is The Comeback in which George inexplicably finds himself gorging on shrimp during a meeting (just accept as the premise that there is a large bowl of shrimp at the meeting) and his co-worker Reilly zings him with, "hey George, the ocean called . . . they're running-out of shrimp." Always the quick thinker, George is unable to deliver any kind of retort and it's not until the drive home that he comes-up with "well the jerk store called and they're running out of you." I could go on forever about how this episode impacted me from "Jerkstore" becoming the name of every fantasy team I've owned* since to the fact that the name found its way onto the back of a Ravens' jersey which then became the subject of a couple dozen tailgate photos.

Pretty sure we all knew that
we were in for something
special when we saw this.
Before getting to the point of today's writing effort, I have to note two of the other storylines in The Comeback because their relevance is kinda freaky. In one, Jerry buys a tennis racket from a pro named Milos who he later discovers to be a fraud with no game (we all know how crafty those Russians can be) leading him to question his purchase. In another, Kramer watches a movie about a woman in a coma which sends him into a panic about getting a living will. Hold those thoughts - shrimp, tennis and coma. Let us proceed. 

So a couple of weeks ago I'm playing some interclub tennis because you can't be a true country club liberal unless you can compete on both sides of the parking lot (but I draw the line at squash). After thoroughly gagging a three set match which is my specialty, I returned to the comfort of my home and the FGW's delicious shrimp and chicken pesto pasta that I've previously eaten without incident on numerous occasions. Not only have I never had an issue with seafood, I grew-up on a damn river so I literally spent half my youth swimming in a giant bowl of bouillabaisse. It should also be noted at this point that I was coming off a month long member-guest season so when I wasn't on the golf course, I was generally within five feet of a buffet with some kind of prawn, claw or shell hanging-out of my mouth. Picture a drunk loquacious sea lion in a blue blazer. 

Twenty minutes after dinner I start to feel a mild itch which would be no real cause for alarm if it wasn't coming from both feet, the ends of my fingertips and my ears. Sensing something was up, I popped a couple of Benadryl and waited for them to knock my ass-out with five couch pillows wedged in and around every limb. Next stop: 3:00 a.m. "Where the Fuck Am I Town." (For the record, I had consumed no alcohol. Not even the stereotypical post tennis match Mich Ultra. I don't know why. I just hadn't. Now it seems weird. And it was probably a mistake). 

Ten minutes later I was nowhere near the partial sleep state I had anticipated. Instead, I started experiencing a feeling that Marcellus Wallace accurately described as "pretty fucking far from ok." At this point I alerted the FGW that we may have a problem. You know when you get your wife involved that shit has or is about to go south. You're just raising the emotional stakes when you elevate the threat level to DEFCON-WIFE so you better make that call judiciously. I still didn't sense that we were verging on critical condition but she was about to leave to go pick-up my son** in the middle of nowhere and I thought it best that maybe she stick around for a few minutes to see where this plot was going to take us. 

And holy shit. In one of the random writing courses I took, they told us that every plot is really just a guy paddling down the river in a canoe with shit happening to him.  If that was the case, then mine just struck an iceberg because things started deteriorating rapidly. First I started to get blotchy. Then things got spinny like every time I make the ill-fated decision to dip Skoal. Of course I still felt ok to drive like any middle aged red-blooded male because I'VE BEEN TRAINING FOR THIS MY WHOLE LIFE! That idea basically lasted from the kitchen to the front door by which time my tune had changed to "you need to drive . . . and we gotta go now."    

Fortunately we live five minutes from two emergency rooms and even more fortunately one of them is right across the street from the FGW's office because she confided in me that she wasn't exactly sure how to get to the other one and I was in no condition to provide directions. At least not in English as my dialect was turning into a combination of seven different middle eastern languages crossed with Robert De Niro speaking in tongues as he spun to his watery death at the end of Cape Fear. (Actually an apt analogy for how I was feeling at the moment). 

By the time we reached the emergency room, I was hanging onto consciousness enough to reach the registration desk, hand them my I.D. and say the words "allergic reaction" in the same slow loud voice I remember my dad using when trying to make dinner reservations in France. All I remember was that there was a big bald guy with an open wound on his head holding court and I thought, "great, I'm probably in line behind that clown." Now darkness was really creeping-in and I told the otherwise disinterested lady at the desk "I'm about to go down." Next thing I knew, someone drove a wheelchair under my ass and they started wheeling me back. 

Apparently I was pretty convincing because the triage nurse hadn't even finished taking my pulse yet when she said "we gotta go." I'm pretty sure I told her I loved her and asked her to marry me. By then of course the FGW had parked the car and was on the scene (awkward). After zipping me back across the waiting room and past Head Wound Harry (sucker), I was helped into a bed and then set-upon by three nurses and a doctor. The service was great but, when you've got that many people frantically working on you, your mind immediately goes to every scene in ER that ends with, "someone call the time of death" followed by Anthony Edwards slumping into a chair and putting his head in his hands. 

"God I suck at this. Mav, do you
have the number for that truck
driving school we saw on TV?"
First I got an IV with a bunch of stuff that sounded promising and then they told me that I was going to get a shot of Epinephrine and I remember thinking "well stop yapping about it and Vincent Vega that shit!" (Big Pulp Fiction episode of the FGR this week). Boom right into the thigh muscle and you definitely feel that one but the pain is offset by the belief that whatever came out of that needle is going to make you right coupled with the assurances that it generally works fast. Except in my case of course. Fifteen minutes later I was still shaking like my wife just told me she was pregnant with twins and my feet still looked like fucking tomatoes. Right on cue, the lady with the clipboard and the well-meaning but somehow disconcerting face shows-up to ask me what my religion is and whether I have a living will. The fact that I answered both questions with only about 62% certainty doesn't say much for my chances at salvation or my abilities as an attorney (assuming attorneys actually have any chance at salvation). 

Then just like that, the symptoms began to subside and I felt almost normal. Unfortunately, because they had shot me full of enough speed to win the Kentucky Derby, I now had to lay there for two more hours to make sure I didn't have a heart attack. The FGW decided to leave so she could check on our kids who were (1) sleeping, (2) out for the night and (3) supposed to be in an Uber heading home. Made me wonder how you handle this type of situation if you've got babies. I guess you haul them in there with you but what a nightmare. Then again, the FGW and I once went running from our burning house with our 2 year and 9 month old sons so it couldn't be much worse than that. This kind of shit happens to everyone right?        

Now I'm just laying there by myself in a bizarre state of exhausted hyperactivity which wouldn't allow sleep or the ability to focus on the book I managed to grab on the way out the door. So I did the obvious thing and took a picture of my view of the emergency room and started texting it to anyone I thought might be up at midnight on Tuesday. I actually found a few takers so that killed about twenty minutes before my "friends" eventually abandoned me in my time of need (their names have been noted on my "list").  

And then I was left with nothing but the non-stop beeping and buzzing sounds of the emergency room which, in the case of my little curtained area, also included a loud alarm that would go off every ten minutes which I think was a reminder for someone to come check my pulse. Only after the second visit they stopped checking my pulse and, shortly after that, they stopped coming altogether so the alarm just kept going off like a 120 decibel snooze button. After about forty-five minutes, I was on the verge of a full William Shatner in Airplane II meltdown.I think it was their way of telling me that I wasn't invited to spend the night . . . a hint with which I am all too familiar from the pre FGW era.

At about 1:30 a.m. I got the all clear so I texted the FGW to come get me. Fifteen minutes later they ripped the IV out of my arm (fucking literally and ouch) and I was on my way. I did get one nice parting gift in the form of the eight EKG pads stuck to my unfrozen caveman lawyer chest which they said "might" come off "a little easier" in the shower with some soap. Twenty minutes later I silently screamed my way through the disproving of that bullshit theory. And that was it. 

So that's my shrimp, tennis and near death story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I didn't enjoy living it. Actually we're now a little over two weeks out and I still haven't done the blood test to find out if it was really the shrimp that got me. Frankly, I don't really want to know. Just kind of hoping it blows over so that me and shrimp can put the whole episode behind us and get back to the days when our relationship consisted of me eating it and it not trying to kill me.           

Footnotes

* The fact that those of us who play fantasy sports call ourselves "owners" erases any remaining doubt that we are complete losers (to the extent there was any remaining doubt). It's like saying you "own" a blank Keno card.  

** Being the parent of a 10, 14 and 16 year old who can't drive yet is like being an Uber driver in Topeka. You don't get paid squat, your car is always trashed and you spend all day waiting to drive a bunch of entitled shit heads to the same five places. (I kid because I love). 

Email the Fantasy Golf Report at fgr@fantasygolfreport.com.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Fantasy Golf: The John Deere Classic Preview

So this week's official strategy is to go with Steve Stricker, Zach Johnson and Brian Harman who have owned this track in the past along with a bunch of other guys who have recently failed me in the hopes that the law of averages takes effect (I'm looking at you Bud Cauley, Ben Martin and Kevin Tway). You know, however, that we're staring straight down the mower blades of another leaderboard stacked with marquee players like Rick "Rack of" Lamb, Andrew "Traffic Jam on the Outer" Loupe and Tyrone Van "Kiss My Hairy" Aswegen so gamble at your own risk.

My somewhat sincere apologies for the back-to-back half assed previews but I'm going to make up for it soon because I think I wrote something entertaining that should be posted by Thursday. Well I know I wrote something. Just not sure yet about the entertaining part. I'll tease it by saying that it involves George Costanza, me almost blacking-out and a big babbling bald guy in the emergency room sporting a gaping head wound.     

One and Done Pick: Steve Stricker
A "John Deere" search actually turns-up
a wealth of material but this picture is a
tradition and we don't mess with tradition.


The DraftKings Top Ten Values

Brian Harman
$10,900
Steve Stricker
$9,800
Zach Johnson
$9,100
Bud Cauley
$8,500
Ben Martin
$8,300
Kevin Tway
$7,600
Ryan Blaum
$7,300
Curtis Luck
$7,100
Brian Gay
$6,800
Rickey Barnes
$6,800

Email the Fantasy Golf Report at fgr@fantasygolfreport.com.

Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Fantasy Golf: The Greenbrier Preview

Happy 4th of July FGR faithful and you're welcome for that Brendan Steele pick last week. Would it make you think better of me if I told you I was THAT close to picking Kyle Stanley? No? OK fuck it. Let's go with Webb Simpson this week and a bunch of other riff raff for what will almost certainly be another C-List leaderboard. And with that, I'm grabbing another drink and passing-out on a lounge chair. Again. 

One and Done Pick: Webb Simpson
AMERICA!!!


The DraftKings All Value Top Ten

Patrick Reed
$11,200
Kevin Kisner
$10,700
Webb Simpson
$10,100
Jimmy Walker
$7,800
Gary Woodland
$7,500
Ben Martin
$7,300
Brian Gay
$7,100
Curtis Luck
$7,000
Braden Thornberry
$6,900
Scott Brown
$6,800

Email the Fantasy Golf Report at fgr@fantasygolfreport.com.