I’ve been learning more about fantasy baseball lately, trying to wrap my brain around how, if at all, fantasy team ownership changes a fan’s approach to the game.

Take the aforementioned outing against the Mets, which I attended.  Whether you were there like I was or watching from the comfort of your home (or gym — whatever your preference), if you’re just a regular run-of-the-mill fan, the things you’re apt to remember about that game are the agita; the feeling of dread when Frost-Tip popped up with two outs in the 9th; the overwhelming shock and delight at watching Luis Castillo bungle the play, handing the Yankees the game; and the injustice of K-Rod having earned a blown save — his first as a Met — on a little league-type error.

On the contrary, if you’re a fantasy player, you score an error for Castillo (though, it’s hard to imagine who would draft him) and a blown save for K-Rod. You grumble, but at the end of the season, these just factor into each of your respective players stats for the year.

In yesterday’s somewhat more dignified outing against the Mets, Yankees fans will recall our awe and glee at besting Santana.  Johan Santana –the Finnish Gift from God, for the love of all things holy.  They will also remember the thrill of the nine-run fourth inning, including two-run dingers from both Robbie and Upper-deki.

Fantasy players will mark down a loss for Johan, cursing the game’s effect on his ERA and WHIP.  If Cano or Matsui happen to play for your team, you get to add last night’s home runs and RBIs to their tally, adjust their batting averages, and feel a little bit cocky about your vision as an owner.   Again, at the end of the day, or the season, rather, it will all boil down to the effect of this game on each player’s statistics for the year.  The game itself won’t much have mattered.

That said, while the manner of the win or loss seems important when you’re watching as a die-hard fan for any given team, the reality in fantasy ultimately isn’t so terribly dissimilar from the reality in baseball.  While the emphasis may be different, the focus in fantasy on individual players rather than a team allegiance, the stats mattering more than the wins and losses, there is a common thread. Unreasonable though it may seem to anyone who was watching both Friday’s and Sunday’s games, each boil down to the same one letter — W.  This refers back to something I’ve said before: It doesn’t matter how you play the game, it’s if you win or lose. In a pennant race, a 15-run rout means the same thing as a W that was less earned than given to us by Luis Castillo.  For fantasy players it all comes down to the points you earn in your four, five, or sixteen categories — whatever the case may be. Period.  For baseball fans, all that really matters is your W-L ratio.  Period.

On the flip side, despite the fact that it’s all about the numbers, fantasy does not necessarily preclude players from investing in the drama.  Sure, whatever way you slice it, they’re thinking about the stats.  However, at the end of a season, if a fantasy owner was to lose his league by an incredibly slim margin, he might look back on the coulda shoulda woulda outing that turned to be the difference.  If the closer for your fantasy team is K-Rod, it would be all but impossible not to look back to Friday’s game and moan about the blown save, how it unduly effected your season.   Similarly, Mets fans are apt to look back on that game and grouse about what coulda shoulda woulda been if, as it turns out, their playoff run comes down to a single game.

One fantasy player commented astutely that being an owner was not so terribly different from being an agent.  Your focus is not so much on the performance of an individual team but more on the performances of your various players.  One thing is certain in both cases, though, when you win, if you win, all that’s going to matter to you is that you won.  Period.  There’s apt to be little reflection on the games where you got lucky on a bad call or an error or a lousy outing from the opposing team’s starting pitcher.  On the other hand, when you lose, if you lose, there tends to be a lot more of that kind of reflection.  A lot more contemplation of the bad games, the close calls, the injuries, the ways things should have gone.

In theory, it may not matter how you played the game, but it sure as hell feels like it when you don’t end up the winner.  People can say what they will about the fundamental differences between fantasy and real baseball, but this is a truth universal to both.

My reference to Billy Joel is pointed.  I figure that since I am tipping my hat to Upper-deki, I might as well pay tribute to his recently discovered love of America’s favorite 80′s pop rock icon from Long Island.  (He has mysteriously changed all of his at-bat songs from Beatles to Billy this season — “Big Shot,” “Only The Good Die Young,” and “I May Be Crazy.”  If I had to, I’d bet that Girardi gave him a greatest hits box set for Christmas.)

But back to my original point, which was about honesty — such a lonely word.  Especially for a ballplayer with an injury.  Oftentimes in baseball, if you admit to being hurt you run the risk of looking like you’re not fully invested. Or, worse yet, like you’re in defiance of the Pavano Principle.  We like our ballplayers to be gritty, to want to get out there come hell or high water — bruised, battered, appendages dangling off their bodies.  Still, while it defies the nature of anyone with a truly competitive personality, I have always believed that the most responsible thing that a player can do is fess up when something’s a little amiss. To take that one or two days off — when necessary, those one or two weeks off — to prevent that little injury from turning into a season-ending injury.

Last year, I went for a run like any other day.  Except, unlike any other day, out of nowhere, I developed a crazy painful burn in my heel every time it made contact with the ground.  The sane thing to do would have been to not run until I had fully recovered from my injury. But, genius that I am, I went with another approach.  I discovered that if I continued to run, the first mile tended to be excruciatingly painful, and then I adjusted and it was fine.  (Until after the run.) Now, a year later, I walk with a limp and run a mile that’s about thirty seconds slower than it was before.  If I was a ballplayer, my approach might qualify me as a gamer, but it would also have dramatically decreased the quality of my game.

This is all to say that Hideki Matsui may just have it right.  On Tuesday, he tells the trainers for the Yankees that his right hamstring is sore.  Wednesday, he sits out the game. Last night, he hits a solo home run in the eighth to lead the Yanks to a 3-2 victory over the Jays.  (An outstanding outing from CC didn’t hurt.)  After the game, Upper-deki told reporters, “I took a day off and my leg was feeling much better.”

(There are unverified reports that he also said, “I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints.”)

So, to the other guys in the clubhouse, take note.  Honesty may be a lonely word, but it’s mostly what we need from you.

A.J. Burnett returning to his old hometown, where he was met by both a crushing defeat and a chorus of boos.  Upper-deki leaving the game after just one at-bat with a strained hamstring. Derek Jeter sitting out last night’s game with a sore right oblique and how worried we are or aren’t supposed to be about that.  (He says we aren’t, but he’s generally disinclined to tell us the truth about this stuff. He doesn’t like us to worry, which is thoughtful.)

But, instead, I’d rather talk about the wind patterns in the Bronx.  Because isn’t that what’s really weighing heavy on our minds?  Yesterday, the New York Post ran an article about the Yanks’ efforts to determine what in the heck could possibly explain the fact that in the first 13 games at the new stadium, there have been a whopping total of 47 balls hit out of the park –32 to right field.  In order to get to the bottom of this troubling issue, the Yanks’ front office people have compiled a panel of wind experts to monitor and study — you guessed it — the wind.  And wouldn’t you know?  According to Yankees COO Lonnie Trost, “The winds we were having were the least likely winds to occur.”

The least likely winds to occur.

I’m sorry, but you can’t make this stuff up.

He went onto say, “We’ll always look and we’ll always analyze. And right now, I don’t know if I can do anything about wind.”

Wait.  What?  So, did you go into this study with the idea in mind that maybe you would come out of it with some kind of idea as to how you might actually be able to control the naturally occurring phenomenon that is the wind?  Because when you say, “I don’t know if I can do anything about the wind,” it sort of sounds like you did.  It also sort of sounds like, even though you can’t now,  you think  that one day you might be able to.

Lonnie, you seem like a guy who can take it, so I’m going to give it to you straight:  You will NEVER be able to do anything about the wind.  Conducting this study was NEVER going to be anything other than a monumental waste of money and fodder for my blog.

Seriously.  Sometimes when these guys open their mouths and say things, it makes me feel like I’m living in a Kurt Vonnegut book.

However, as a potentially less wasteful use of their time, the Yankees are also looking into their ticket plans and whether or not they’ve done enough to enable to the real fans to actually come to see ballgames.  As of now, Trost thinks it’s too soon to tell.  “Every day we look at it and analyze it,” he said. “Could you really tell what’s taken place in two homestands with 90 percent of them in rain? I can’t.”

Funny, because I was actually at some of those games, and my assessment was that no one was coming.  I mean, we’re Yankees fans.  Overpriced tickets may keep us away, but rain?  Don’t insult us.

The spring got off to a shaky start, for reasons primarily related to A-Roid, and I confess that I was feeling more than a little bit disappointed.  It seemed like the majority of the team fell into one of three categories-coming off a surgery and only questionably healthy, too new to be considered part of the family, or A-Roid.

Yes, A-Roid is a category unto himself.

But over the past few weeks, things have started coming together to allay my anxieties.  First of all, there was the A-Roid injury-perhaps the best of all things that could have happened.  With the three-ring circus that is A-Roid out of the clubhouse, it’s been easier to pay attention to the more substantive issues.  Like, you know, baseball-related issues.  Given the fact that all our communication with A-Roid has happened via Cashman via text, it’s not totally impossible that Cashman’s seen to it that A-Roid be locked in some sort of Yankee holding facility somewhere until things settle down.  But, whatever.  It’s getting the job done.  And I’m sure it’s fine with A-Weird-as long as there’s a mirror.

The injuries?  Two days ago, Jorge threw out 3 of 4 guys attempting to steal.  My feeling about that guy is that, when the time comes, we’re going to be dragging him into retirement with him cursing at us in Spanish all the way.  Jorge’s tough.  He refuses to quit.  And he loves to curse at people in Spanish.

Matsui is also on the mend-looking solid in his new role as DH.  If anything, the problem is that Matsui is feeling a little too recovered for his own good.  Girardi recently scolded him for shagging fly balls in the outfield and putting his knee at risk.  Matsui can’t not work harder than he’s supposed to though.  It goes against his entire system of values.  Love him.  And his system of values.

Mo hit the ground running.  He had a perfect frame on his first day back last week, including two strikes out.  But I was never worried about Mo.  He comes from that weird planet of perfect, adorable pitchers who preach the gospel.

As for the news guys, the longer they hang around, the more I like them.  Sure, I was familiar with all of the big name players before they came on board but I didn’t really know them-I certainly didn’t know what to expect from them in the clubhouse.

Teixeira’s was an immediately grounding presence.  Maybe I’m a chump, but I like the “Gee whiz, aw shucks” manner in which he discusses the unlikelihood that he would ever take a PED.  Given the state of baseball at the moment-of professional sports in general-I don’t take issue with a guy like Teixeira for being a family man and a little bit of a Pollyanna.

Then we have AJ, who I liked from moment go because he had the decency to go on the Mike Francesa Show and tell us he had signed with the Yanks because they offered him the most money.  I knew that, you knew that, and yet so many other players would have tried to convince us that money was a secondary concern.  I like when people don’t insult me. Burnett also has a Bruce Lee tattoo on his arm that he credits with protecting him from a line drive a few days ago.  Not quite sure how that works, but whatever is keeping him healthy, I’m not asking any questions. Seriously, if that guy stays healthy and keeps up the good work, hell, I’ll get a tattoo to match his.

Then, of course, there’s CC, rapidly emerging as the newest leader of the pack.  He plans cute group excursions to basketball games, gets the boys together for epic X-box game tournaments.  If there’s one thing that’s been sorely lacking in the Yankees clubhouse in recent years it’s any kind of cohesion.  Jeter is a great leader, but he leads by example-he inspires.  He doesn’t give speeches, bring people together.  So I’m hoping CC could be that guy for us.

So, that’s the synopsis, and I’m feeling good. (I’m sure it doesn’t hurt my mood that we beat the crapelbon out of the Chowdas yesterday. 7-1. In your Chowda faces.) That being said, notwithstanding the fact that he posts insane numbers, I would be just as happy if A-Roid were to just stay gone forever. It’s harder to feel good about the team when he’s around.  I want to feel good about my team.  And from I gather, it’s also harder for the team to come together and do their thing when he’s around. The way I see it, we’re not the Reds.  We have a lineup that can more than hold its own without him.  And sometimes the sacrifice on the field is worth the benefit to the clubhouse.

If I was A-Roid, I would fake an injury until the day I died to avoid walking into that clubhouse and facing everyone after the humiliation of the mirror porn.  True, to do so would defy the Principle of Try Your Hardest. However, I believe there is another principle that overrides this one in importance.  That would be the Principle of Don’t Ever Be Seen In Public Again Once You’ve Been Photographed Making Out With a Mirror.  For those of you who have read To Kill A Mockingbird, think about it: what do you think really happened to Boo Radley?

You never really know a man until you look in his mirror and make out with it.

No, not the Steroid Era.  This is an inarguably better era marked by integrity, a big bat and a rarely discussed love of karaoke.

Having just come off of his second knee surgery in as many winters, Upper-deki will not be taking the field in the Grapefruit League.  Yesterday, Joe Girardi announced that Matsui will go to camp exclusively as the Bombers’ DH.  As far as the regular season is concerned, Girardi only anticipates using Matsui as an emergency left fielder when Johnny Damon is unable to play.

When questioned about this decision, Upper-deki responded through an interpreter, “That decision was made considering the situation with my knees, just being protective. I totally agree with his decision…I’m going to continue to make sure I prepare for the game. I’ll make sure I prepare to play defense as well. But as far as the decisions are concerned, that’s beyond my control.”

Man.  That guy can be such a prima donna.