And with the one thousand, four hundred thirty-fourth pick, the Kansas City Royals select...
The amateur draft is now in its 50th round, and if you're still following it, you must work for Royals Authority. Nice mid-draft update following the day one coverage, by the way. Meanwhile, most people -- even bloggers -- have put away their draft kits, content to let 800-plus-word, quote-included recaps or live blogs stand alone, or to become scavenging jackals like myself, linking others up the wazoo in place of original research.
As it should be, this half-hearted protest of over-analyzing. As the best sports columnist in America pointed out yesterday, we'll have no idea about our picks until a couple years down the line. Unless, of course, we just passed up on this year's Tim Lincecum or Andrew Miller -- who are in the bigs just a year after -- for Luke Hochevar. Who knows though, maybe Mike (not Matt) Moustakas is the next Michael Young.
Speaking of Moustakas, it's good to know our team "feels strongly" about him. Really, really good to know, considering he'll cost around $5 million and several gray hairs for this organization, as we'll be dealing with the agent who single-handedly made the greatest baseball player of our generation the most hated figure in his sport. Every baseball prima donna on the verge of superstardom needs to take heed of the parable of Alex Rodriguez and understand the corrupting influence of money: you'll be able to buy two homes with pools, but fans will hate you mercilessly. Then you'll switch positions in an effort to reclaim your soul -- through your stated desire to "win," as if you're fooling anyone now -- and end up in a place as heartless as your agent, then find yourself in impossible lose-lose situations that demand you to hit walk-off grand slams OR ELSE. In short: DO NOT HIRE THIS MAN.
More on Moustakas from Royals Review.
And if you're wondering how the White Sox, Twins, Tigers and Indians did with their first round picks, the Fanhouse is here to fill you in.
Now we'll put this subject aside and probably not talk about it for 12 months. Unless Moustakas does something wild, like, oh, throw a bat into the chest of an umpire.