Swoon

From Monday's Globe and Mail:

"I have no problem with any concern the [Blue Jays] might have that I could repeat again. If I have to play another year under arbitration, I’ll do it again. Maybe I won’t hit 54 homers. Maybe I’ll hit 60."

- Jose Bautista

Jose Bautista continues to believe in Jose Bautista. And I find his confidence utterly enrapturing.

The World Series isn't yet over, and I'm already pining for spring training.

Someone at Reuters took that photo. Daylife hooked it up.

A twist in the narrative

A day later, and I still don't know much about John Farrell.

He left Cleveland; there's certainly nothing surprising about that. He won a World Series in Boston. He turned down job interviews while waiting for the right opportunity to manage. Today, he's a Blue Jay. While the headlines read that the Toronto chose John Farrell, John Farrell, in fact, chose Toronto. In a welcome break from what we've gotten far too used to around here, Toronto, for once, was the ideal situation. And, damn, does it ever feel good to be wanted.

Farrell's a pitching coach. He's tutored the young arms of Jon Lester, Clay Buchholz, and Daniel Bard. (Yeah, he's worked with Josh Beckett, John Lackey, Jonathan Papelbon, and strike zone hater Daisuke Matsuzaka, too, but let's just focus on the kids.) And I'm sure you'll agree that pitching coaches have had a way of endearing themselves to us in recent years. While I don't remember much of the Mark Connor and Gil Patterson eras, Brad Arnsberg and the fan base, we were close. Five years, it was a good run. It was tough to watch him take his talents to Houston, and we thought we'd miss him, until Bruce Walton came from Arnsberg's very bullpen and into our lives.

Now they'll work together, Farrell and Walton, and I expect nothing less than the opposite of Cito Gaston's reign of bullpen terror. They'll work with Brian Butterfold, too, who isn't heading south to Baltimore to join his pal Buck Showalter, which is telling in its own right. Butter didn't get the job he wanted; it was his goal to manage the Blue Jays. But even in his disappointment, he too picked Toronto. Double rainbow.

Farrell's hiring is sweeter in the knowledge that he joins the Blue Jays from the Boston Red Sox, and that they're -- both organization and Massholes fans -- smarting over his departure in New England. The Bostons and New Yorks, they take far too much from everybody else in baseball. It's nice to snatch one of theirs.

I don't know how Farrell will manage. Nobody does. He's never done it before. But if he takes to his new job the way Alex Anthopoulos took to his, the Blue Jays are in good hands. Experience; it's overrated. While we may not know a lot about Farrell -- we don't even know how many years he's expected to be in town -- we know without a doubt that Anthopoulos chose him having done the due-st of due diligence. And if Anthopoulos doesn't yet have your trust, I don't think he ever will. 

Farrell chose to come to Toronto. Butter chose to stay in Toronto. If it were up to Manny Ramirez, he'd pick Toronto. And let me tell you, I could get used to this. It almost makes me wonder: what does Cliff Lee think of our fine city?

*Update: It's a three-year deal. That sneaky Anthopoulos!

Image of a styling Mr. Farrell courtesy of Reuters, via daylife. 

If Joe Posnanski ruled the world ...

"You kind of took it for granted around the Yankees that there was always going to be baseball in October." 

- Whitey Ford

That's got to apply to their fans, the Yankees faithful, too. It has to. I'm 28 years old. The Toronto Blue Jays have played in the postseason five times in my lifetime, winning, of course, two World Series. And let's be honest: I was far too young in 1985 and 1989 to truly give a damn. Were I a Yankees fan, those numbers would be 15 and five, respectively. And let's not kid ourselves: 14 straight years of October baseball in the Bronx -- 1995 through 2008 -- would have made me the most insufferable Yankees fan of them all.

I bring all this up because of Joe Posnanski's latest blog post. If it were up to him, he'd do away with the wild card and go back to baseball's old format: "two divisions in each league, a championship series, then a World Series." Posnanski would also not "be opposed to getting rid of the playoffs altogether and just taking the best team from each league and going right to the World Series."

No playoffs. "Getting rid of the playoffs altogether." Imagine such a baseball world. Fear it. God help the Blue Jays if Posnanski's ever running the show.

In all seriousness, the Posnanski piece is a thoughtful one. He's right: this year's race to the top of the American League East wasn't a race at all. It was a joke. And in the end, as is usually the case, the Minnesota Twins were the punchline. Anyway, Posnanski understands that if the playoffs were shortened, the economics of the game would have to be changed. He also understands that it's not going to happen; that there's no looking back on the wild card now, yo. And that's a good thing, because I'm all for the idea to add another wild card into the mix, and have two wild card teams face off in a best of three -- not a best of one; baseball doesn't roll that way --to determine who moves on to play in the division series'. Hell, I hope the change is in effect for next season.

I used to think the baseball season was too long. A hundred and 62 games? Are you kidding me? Now I realize it's the perfect length. Every game matters. Ask the San Diego Padres. Adding another wild card team makes one through 162 matter even more. Is this interest self-serving, so the Blue Jays can one day qualify for the playoffs? Absolutely. Toronto needs all the help it can get to scale the mountain, and end their almost two-decades long drought. Other than "Toronto Maple Leafs" and "Toronto Blue Jays," the blog label I've used the most at Sports And The City is "I miss the god damn playoffs." Were I in charge, I think everyone might make the playoffs. One versus 30, two versus 29, and so on. Playoffs for everybody!

While we're talking about October baseball, how about Saturday night: Lincecum against Halladay. The Freak versus The Doctor. Quite possibly the apex of a pitching matchup in the playoffs. I can't wait. And I'm grateful, Baseball Gods. Thank you. 

The photograph above -- me in about 40 years -- comes to you from Getty Images, via Yahoo!

The age old question ...

When the Toronto Blue Jays exceed my expectations -- I had them good for 82 wins -- you know they've had a successful season. Just like that, the offseason is upon us, but what a season it was. I could go on and on: Jose Bautista's meaningful at-bats, and his assault on Toronto's, and baseball's, record books; the promising development of Toronto's top-four starting pitchers, with Kyle Drabek set to join them in 2011; the triumphant return of Vernon Wells; more, and quite possibly for the last time, yeomen's work from Scott Downs; home run after home run after home run after home run after home run; and, finally, Cito Gaston's farewell.

The polarizing Mike Wilner may have put it best, though:

"It was a tremendously fun year. We got to see one of the greatest games ever pitched, we got to see the greatest offensive season a Blue Jay has ever had, we got to see the greatest major-league debut any hitter has ever had, we got to see the Jays tie one league record with six doubles in an inning and another with six homers in a loss and we got to bite our fingernails as a Blue Jay starting pitcher took a no-hitter into the 7th inning an astounding FIVE times! Heck, we even got to go through the Nick Green era - remember that?"

I don't remember the Nick Green era, which is probably for the best. But Wilner's right: it was definitely a fun summer. And it wasn't supposed to be. That was the best part.

Let's not kid ourselves, though. It wasn't all double rainbows. Aaron Hill and Adam Lind did their best to kill my baseball buzz for six months, and before we look forward, we'll look back.

What comes first: patience at the plate, or confidence at the plate? Does confidence breed patience? Or is it the other way around? Without confidence, is patience in the batter's box impossible? Without patience, is confidence, and success, impossible? What the hell am I talking about here? What I'm trying to figure out is: How do two young, promising hitters go from being so successful to -- for one season at least -- below average Major League hitters?

To FanGraphs, yo. Let's start with Hill, and some of his year-over-year numbers, after he unfathomably spent most of 2010 flirting with the goddamn Mendoza Line.

O-Swing% -- the percentage of pitches a batter swings at outside the strike zone:

2010: 31.3%
2009: 26.5%

A five percent increase in Hill swinging at pitches outside the strike zone. The money stat? Perhaps. 

Z-Swing% -- the percentage of pitches a batter swings at inside the strike zone:

2010: 72.1%
2009: 74.2%

So, Hill swung at fewer pitches inside the strike zone, and more pitches outside the strike zone, compared to 2009, his breakout season. This season, he looked lost. From the get go. More often than not. These numbers make sense.

Swing% -- the total percentage of pitches a batter swings at:

2010: 50.7%
2009: 51.1%

A negligible difference. Does it come down to confidence, and approach? Swinging at the wrong pitches?

O-Contact% -- the percentage of times a batter makes contact with the ball when swinging at pitches thrown outside the strike zone:

2010: 70.9%
2009: 60.8%

A huge 10% increase here year-over-year. Not only was Hill swinging at more baseballs thrown outside the strike zone, he was hitting more of them. And unless you're Vladimir Guerrero, more often than not, those are outs.

Z-Contact% -- the percentage of times a batter makes contact with the ball when swinging at pitches thrown inside the strike zone:

2010: 90.9%
2009: 91.4%

Again, year-over-year, that's hardly a noteworthy difference. So, is this a good time to bring in baseball's luck factor, and Hill's feeble .196 2010 BABIP? I would think so.

Contact% -- the total percentage of contact made when swinging at all pitches:

2010: 84.5%
2009: 83.8%

Hill's career Contact% average is 84.5%.

Zone% -- the percentage of pitches seen inside the strike zone:

2010: 47.6%
2009: 51.7%

Does a confident and patient hitter take more pitches in the strike zone? I'm so confused.

Let's take at look Hill's left/right splits:

2010 vs. LHP (120 ABs): .125/.226/.225, .124 BABIP, .206 wOBA, 22 wRC+
2009 vs. LHP: (171 ABs): .298/.335/.561, .290 BABIP, .379 wOBA, 134 wRC+

2010 vs. RHP (408 ABs): .228/.285/.444, .217 BABIP, .318 wOBA, 98 wRC+
2009 vs. RHP (511 ABs): .282/.328/.478, .287 BABIP, .348 wOBA, 114 wRC+

Hill didn't have a clue versus left-handed pitching this season, after owning southpaws in 2009. Against right-handed pitching, I don't see why Hill can't be expected to put up his 2009 numbers every year. Slightly above average numbers against RHP, and above average against LHP is what Hill certainly seems capable of.

But, again, luck. Hill's .286 BABIP in 2009 was below average, but 36 home runs certainly helped in putting up a .357 wOBA, and 119 wRC+. This season, as mentioned, Hill's BABIP checked in at a putrid .196. His fly ball rate jumped to 54.2%, compared to 41% in 2009. Yet he still finished with 26 home runs. My question: How do we account for the increased fly ball rate? 

Below is how Hill's season began in 2010. Remember, he hit the disabled list two games into the campaign.

April 2010 (37 ABs): .162/.311/.297, .179 BABIP, .277 wOBA, 90 wRC+
May 2010 (114 ABs): .184/.273/.395, .161 BABIP, .298 wOBA, 85 wRC+

And here are Hill's numbers over the first two months of 2009:

April 2009 (104 ABs): .365/.412/.567, .384 BABIP, .419 wOBA, 161 wRC+
May 2009 (127 ABs): .307/.331/.480, .314 BABIP, .352 wOBA, 116 wRC+

Polar opposite starts to Hill's seasons. In 2009, he could do no wrong, as evidenced by his .384 BABIP. It certainly did even out, and by year's end it was below the league average. So, my question is, how much value do you put into a hot start? After two months of hitting the cover off the ball in April and May 2009, Hill's confidence had to have been sky-high. And after his pathetic, and unlucky, first two months of the 2010 season, Hill probably never felt worse about his hitting prospects. Not to mention the injury.

Did pitchers figure Aaron Hill out? Or was he unable to work through the cobwebs in his own head? How much of a hitter's success at the plate comes from being "locked in"? From a hot start, and not holding the bat too tight, and not trying to do too much? What comes first? Patience or confidence?

Do you know? Are you as confused as I am? Help a brother out.

Either way, we're going to find out next season. Personally, I can't wait. Toronto's first Spring Training game is only five months away.

I'll tackle Adam Lind in another post. My head hurts, yo.

Reuters, via daylife, hooked up the image of one frustrated Aaron Hill.

Violence

The last time the Minnesota Twins played the Blue Jays, it was July 8th. Toronto belted five home runs that evening -- one of them by Jose Bautista, his 23rd of the season  -- en route to an 8-1 victory. Thursday night, three months later at beautiful Target Field in downtown Minneapolis, Cito's armed forces did one better. Six bombs, two of them from Bautista, his 53rd and 54th; his 29th and 30th home runs since the All-Star break.

Since that very All-Star break, the Toronto Blue Jays have hit more home runs -- 117 -- than the Seattle Mariners (100), Oakland Athletics (102), and Houston Astros (107) have hit all season, and as many as the Los Angeles Dodgers. I feel like we should be passing around cigars, or something. I know, an inordinate amount of home runs aren't the playoffs, but that doesn't mean they can't be celebrated. Because the numbers are frankly ridiculous.

From La Velle E. Neal III, in the Minnesota Star Tribune:

"On Thursday night at Target Field, [Francisco] Liriano suffered from a malady that most pitchers get when facing Toronto, the most powerful team in baseball."

The Toronto Blue Jays, the most powerful team in baseball. Say it again: The most powerful team in baseball. It sounds better when somebody else says it, but I like it. It's got a nice bloody ring to it.

More from Mr. Neal III:

"The Blue Jays' six homers gave them 253 for the season, the fourth most in history. That included two by soon-to-be AL home run king Jose Bautista, who has 54 this season. He homered to the opposite field for the first time this season and became the second player to homer into the third deck at Target Field with a grand slam in the seventh inning."

Jose Bautista, American League Home Run King. Jesus, I love the sound of that. And, take note: Bautista doesn't just hit home runs into the third deck, he hits grand slams. That's just how he rolls. Bautista bullied Twins pitching last night, forcing the shell-shocked home side to pick on DeWayne Wise.

If you read some of the comments to the Star Tribune article, a vulnerable Twinkies fan base is, well, losing their shit. And the way innocent baseballs were flying out of what's supposed to be a pitcher's haven, I can't blame them. The Blue Jays were ruthlessly violent Thursday night, even prompting Pat Tabler to say that Travis Snider "gangstered all over" his 8th inning bomb. Now, I'm pretty sure "gangstered" is not a word, but that's exactly what Snider did. Props to Tabler. He's finishing the season strong.

As is the aforementioned Snider. If Bautista taught us anything last year, it's that September matters. Snider's line in 24 September games, and 92 at-bats: .304/.319/.543. Six home runs, and 9 RsBI. Sure, Travis has struck out 24 times, but you can't help but coo at that .543 slugging percentage. More importantly, a .371 September wOBA, and 134 wRC+.

The home run record is held by Seattle, 264 in 1997. Toronto needs 11 to tie, in three games. Nothing about this team, especially that record falling, would surprise me anymore.

"I never get tired of seeing them," said Cito Gaston.

Me either, Cito. Me either. And I'm going to miss the bombs over the winter.

Image courtesy Carlos Gonzalez, Minnesota Star Tribune.

The Best Of Times

We've all been guilty of some healthy Rogers-bashing, ever since the Mother Corp. took control of our beloved Toronto Blue Jays. But credit where credit is due, and damned if the organization didn't get it right Wednesday night, as they -- we -- sent Cito Gaston off in style.

I wasn't able to make it down to the Cable Box for the festivities, but that might have worked out for the best. Because the video tribute in Cito's honour left me speechless, and, no lie, teary-eyed. If you were at the ballpark, let me know what the atmosphere was like. It looked electric on the tube. And tell me I wasn't the only grown man all emotional.

Watching the Cito testimonials from the likes of Hank Aaron, Dusty Baker, Gord Ash, Bobby Cox, and the Toronto Blue Jays heroes of years gone by -- Tony "Thanks Clarence" Fernandez, Robbie Alomar, Jesse Barfield, Duane Ward, Pat Hentgen, and Jack Morris, to name a few -- I was struck by how much everyone had aged. They were young men when they patrolled the field, and when they stepped into the batter's box, at the SkyDome. Not anymore. The game goes on, leaving players in its wake. And there stood Cito, having managed, and more importantly mentored and befriended, so many of them. Watching footage of Cito and Paul Molitor hug, both in tears, after Toronto had won the 1993 World Series ... I was at a loss for words.

Much like Cito's tenure as The Manager -- and you really ought to read read Dustin Parkes' "Thank You Cito," and Stoeten's "Why Tonight I'll Cheer For Cito" -- his tribute was a roller coaster of emotions, as well. When Joe Carter had the floor, and finally looked towards Cito and said, "Thank you, brother. I love you," that was it for me. I was reaching for the goddamn Kleenex. Because Carter nailed it. We're all thankful to Cito. We all love Cito, in some way, because he is synonymous with the best of Toronto's baseball times. Synonymous with success. With pennants. With back-to-back World Series championships.

Vernon Wells was next, as he should have been. Next season, Wells will pass Tony Fernandez's mark of 1,450 games as a Blue Jay. For better or worse, Wells will have worn Toronto's jersey longer than anyone. And he nailed it, too, about Cito's mustache. Whoever came up with the idea for all the guys to wear fake mustaches to start the game, I salute you. Bloody brilliant.

What I'll always remember about Cito is, of course, the salad days. I'll also never forget how I felt the day it was announced he was on his way back to the Toronto dugout. It made sense, in a way, that he never managed elsewhere. He was Toronto's manager, and only Toronto's manager. Cito Gaston, from 1982 onwards, the year I came into this crazy world, was a goddamn Blue Jay. And what Cito taught me, and his players, was to always play with pride. Hustle and heart, yo. Right up until the very end.

When I think of Cito, I think of respect. Is there any more humble gesture than the fact he always refers to Jackie Robinson as "Mr. Jackie Robinson"? And when I think of Cito, I think of pride. Cito always carried himself with immense pride, and that's got a lot to do with the incredible racism he endured while he worked his way up to the Major Leagues. Most importantly, Cito leaves baseball, and leaves the Blue Jays, with pride. In retrospect, looking back to last season, when mutiny broke out in the Blue Jays clubhouse, and I and others were calling for Gaston's head, I'm now glad the Jays kept Cito in charge. He deserved a send-off; a party. He deserved to go out on his own terms. He deserved to go out a winner. And over the Yankees, in his final home game, no less.

Look, Travis Snider will be fine. I disagree with Alan Ashby when he says the Jays still don't know what they've got in the young phenom. They've got a guy who's raked at every level, and will do it in the Majors, too. J.P. Arencibia will be fine, too. Maybe. Hopefully. A September sitting on the bench, while not practical, and certainly not ideal, will not ruin his career. Cito did what he had to do, and leaves with his head held high, and with pride. It would have been a lot tougher to watch The Manager leave the dugout with a Baltimore OrioLOLes-esque 63-95 record.

Fitting, no, that John Buck hit his 20th home run on Thank You, Cito night. Fitting that in Cito's final home game did the Blue Jays break their club record for home runs in a season. One last time, thanks to Jose Bautista, and all the home runs, did Cito leave his mark on the Toronto Blue Jays. A hitting coach, until the very end.

And in that very end, during his post-game interview with Sam Cosentino, as he looked back on his career, his more than 20 years as a member of the Blue Jays, as a citizen of the fine city of Toronto, I thought Cito said it best ...

"It was all good. Everything was good."

Indeed. 

Forever The Manager in my eyes, and in my heart. Thanks, Cito.

Getty image, yo. Via daylife.

Guest Post: The Jose Bautista Bomb Festival

On September 17th, Jose Bautista made Toronto Blue Jays history. His 48th home run of the season cleared Fenway Park's Green Monster, and along with it went George Bell's 23-year-old team record. I was live blogging that night's Jays and Red Sox affair for The Score and, in the aftermath of Bautista's heroics, a comment by avid basketball and Toronto Raptors fan Scott Carefoot stuck with me: "How sweet was the J-Bomb? I missed it. Can't wait to watch the highlight. He might be my favourite Jay of All-Time."

It got me thinking: How many others are there? How many others have been drawn to baseball, and the Toronto Blue Jays, because of Jose Bautista's magical season? I'd found one, and I wanted to hear his story.

You know Mr. Carefoot from The Basketball Jones, and the Raptors blog that started them all, RaptorBlog. Without further adieu, here he is, a basketball head blogging about the Blue Jays, the legend that is Jose Bautista, and why he just might give a damn about this team again ...

If you know me, if you’ve read me at RaptorBlog.com since 2002 or on theScore.com since 2008, you know me as a diehard NBA fan, and that assessment is absolutely true. I won’t say that I live or die for the Raptors or NBA basketball, but it’s the sport I find most compelling and most entertaining. Even during the off-season, I pay more attention to what’s going on with NBA trades, free agents and mock drafts than I do to sports that are actually being played – including entire Major League Baseball seasons.

It wasn’t always this way. I used to be a baseball fan a long time ago but the passion faded. You might think the steroid era had something to do with that, but you would be mistaken. My focus shifted away from sports in general when I went to university in 1994 (the year after the Jays won their second World Series) and I actually started having real girlfriends and an active social life. Toronto got the Raptors in 1995 and I was intrigued, but that intrigue didn’t blossom into an obsession until after I graduated in 1999 and moved in with my girlfriend (now my wife). Vinsanity was in full effect and I was hooked – I never missed a Raptors game and I still don’t. Well, I won’t if I can get Sportsnet One in Oakville before November.

Over the past 15 years, the Jays didn’t give me many reasons to reignite the flame of fandom. There were some interesting players that came and went – Clemens, Delgado, Halladay – but none of them excited me like Vince Carter and the fact that the Jays appeared doomed to never again overcome the mighty Yankees and Red Sox made rooting for them seem pointless. I understand that makes me sound like a fair-weather fan, but I’m only being honest here. I really haven’t cared about the Jays that much for most of the second half of my life.

It was different when I was a kid. I was born in 1975 in Brantford, Ontario so it’s only natural that my first sports love was Brantford’s own Wayne Gretzky and the Edmonton Oilers. I watched the 1983 Stanley Cup Finals with my dad and he told me that he had an obnoxious co-worker who rooted for the Islanders so we both had extra motivation to root for The Great One. Edmonton was swept that year but exacted sweet revenge over the Islanders the following year.

I guess you could say I was like any good Canadian boy in that hockey was my primary sports passion, but in the summer and fall months my attention turned to the Blue Jays. My first favorite Jay was none other than Damaso Garcia, and I’ll be damned if I can remember why I picked him. Ivan Lendl used to be my favorite tennis player and Amir Johnson is my current favorite Raptor, so I guess you could say I’ve had eclectic taste in sports idols over the years.

Those Jays in the early to mid-80s were chock-full of interesting characters – Ernie Whitt’s swing that dropped his knee to the dirt, Tony Fernandez’s poetry in motion at shortstop, the incomparable outfield of Bell, Moseby and Barfield, Damaso burning his uniform… yeah, I wasn’t so much of a Damaso fan after that. But those Jays were fun to root for and they were pretty damn good, too.

I was in SkyDome in 1991 on the day when the Jays broke the 4 million attendance mark – they handed out these shitty t-shirts to commemorate the event and I think mine disintegrated after a few washes – and they clinched the AL East division title. It remains the most exciting sporting event I’ve ever attended. The following year, the Jays won their first of back-to-back World Series and by that point every Canadian was a Jays fan. I had reached my apex as a baseball fan, and then I went off to school.

But I’m repeating myself. These days, my life is devoted to family, work and the NBA. The Jays were expected by most objective baseball fans (you know, the ones who don’t use multiple exclamation points when describing a particular team) to be a shitshow this year in their first post-Halladay season. I fully expected all of my sports attention to be directed towards LeBron James, Chris Bosh and the three-ring circus of this summer’s NBA free agency period. That certainly didn’t disappoint in terms of drama, although the climax left a bitter taste in my mouth, to say the least.

I’m not sure exactly when I started to pay attention to The Jose Bautista Bomb Festival this season, but I have no doubt that Mr. Vaswani – as the Jays’ best hype-man – played a role in bringing it to my attention. Who the hell was this guy? Where did he come from? What kind of steroids was he on? I didn’t know the answers to these questions and I didn’t much care. It was kind of fun to see a Blue Jay on top of the American League home run standings again. Jealous fans and certain idiot columnists protested that Bautista was surely hopped up on goofballs of some sort, but fuck ‘em. Haters gonna hate, right?

As the baseball season drew on, “Bautista-watch 2010” turned from fun to surreal. Was this guy really going to hit 40 home runs? Was he actually going to break George Bell’s team record? Holy shit – is he going to hit 50 dingers? Yep, yep, and you’re damn right.

And so here I am, by request, writing about how the Jays seem relevant to me again because of the magical season of Jose Bautista. Thanks to him, I’m now aware of the Jays’ promising young pitching staff and of the distinctive sound the ball makes coming off Travis Snider’s bat. I’m still not convinced they’ll ever be able to make the playoffs while they’re stuck in the same division as the Yankees, Red Sox and now the freakin’ Rays! But as I’m sure Navin will agree, the fact that the odds are so stacked against them will make it that much sweeter on that fateful day when I’ll sign into my Twitter account specifically to type “RT @eyebleaf PLAYOFFS!!!!!!!!!!11111”

Image courtesy of Getty Images via daylife.

I want to go to the playoffs with Roy Halladay

Bittersweet. How else to describe watching Roy Halladay punch his ticket to the post-season? Of course Doc was on the mound for the Philadelphia Phillies Monday night. Of course Doc threw another complete game shutout to make it official. The Baseball Gods, they work in brilliant ways.

On the same night Halladay's Phillies clinched the National League East, the Toronto Blue Jays clinched a .500 season. Symmetry, yo. Doc's got what he wanted: a chance to win the World Series. And the Blue Jays, well, they're doing alright. They're on the righteous path. Remember, 2010 was supposed to be a disaster of biblical proportions. I'm talking below the OrioLOLes in the standings, apocalyptic-type shit. Nine months after trading the face of their franchise, and the best pitcher they've ever employed, there exists a quiet confidence that Alex Anthopoulos will lead the Blue Jays out of the abyss.

Thanks to that confidence, I was able to enjoy Halladay's moment in the sun. I know, it was actually raining in Washington, D.C., but, whatever. The point is: it's all worked out rather nicely. Considering what we've heard from the youthful Blue Jays pitching staff, they're glad they're not sharing a locker room with Halladay anymore. And I get that. Think about it: nobody wants to work with the most intense cat in the office. Especially when they're that much better than you. Toronto was no longer the time and place for Harry Leroy Halladay III. Philadelphia is.

I've gone through a bloody gamut of emotions when it comes to Doc. Anger. Sadness. Happiness. Elation, confusion, and bitterness, all in the aftermath of his perfect game. When the Jays and Phillies faced off in June, I wanted nothing more than for Toronto to pummel Doc. (Like how they slap around A.J. Burnett. It's fun!) But this -- Halladay Season in October -- is what I've always wanted. Since that fateful day in September, way back in 1998. While I never had any desire to go to the zoo with Roy Halladay, I sure as hell wanted to go to the playoffs with Roy Halladay.

The debate in Toronto has begun: Cincinnati or Philadelphia? Reds or Phillies? Canadian superstar Joey Votto, with a side of Scott Rolen, or Doc? Just last week, I'd have told you I wasn't sure which way I was leaning. But I know now, after watching Halladay celebrate with his Phillies teammates the way I always wanted him to celebrate in Toronto with the Blue Jays.

There's no doubt: Votto is special. But he's not Roy Halladay. He's not the pitcher whose starts I lived and died by, every five days, for more than a decade. I've waited far too long for Doc to pitch in the playoffs. To dominate on baseball's brightest stage. Your good friend and mine Sarah said it best: "Playoffs for Halladay are playoffs for me."

Get your ring, Doc. Go Phillies.

It's pointless that I have to tell you time and time again, but image courtesy of Reuters via daylife.

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I spent Sunday afternoon at the SkyDome with some of my favourite people from the Internet. No, not porn stars. My Twitter family. We watched, and some of us drank Bud Light Lime, as the Toronto Blue Jays laid another beating on the Baltimore Orioles. Thanks, Baltimore. This summer was truly a pleasure.

I can't remember how the discussion began. That's not to say I'm surprised it came up; we're from the Internet, after all. (Be sure to let us know how cool we are in the comments.) Anyway, here it is: what is the proper pronunciation of "GIF"?

I've been calling it "jif" since I learned to speak the majestic English language. "Gif," pronounced "jif," was actually my first word. Crazy, I know. And I'm right. I'm also, it seems, in the minority. To the Internet, nerds.

From the creators of the GIF graphics file format, CompuServe, back in 1987:

"The GIF (Graphics Interchange Format), pronounced 'JIF', was designed by CompuServe and the official specification released in June of 1987."

From Bob Berry, the author of CompuServe's CompuShow, in an email:

"GIF has always been pronounced "jif", since it was first released in 1987."

Oh, hell, it's even on Wikipedia. And when has Wikipedia ever been wrong? Never, that's when.

"According to Steve Wilhite, the creator of the GIF format, the original pronunciation deliberately echoes the American peanut butter brand, Jif ..."

"Jif." Like the damn peanut butter. Deliberately. And, look, I get that language evolves, that the Oxford Dictionary deems both pronunciations correct, and that perhaps more people pronounce it "gif," like "gift." But that only means more people are wrong. The Internet has spoken, nerds.

Much love to the Twitter fam. Sunday's festivities -- baseball, beer, and the finer workings of the Internet -- were a blast, and make the soon-to-be-over Blue Jays season that much more depressing. Thanks, guys and gals. Was a riot. 

On your way out, please do show some love to Baltimore. Even though they're a classless bunch who throw at Jose Bautista. Twice! Nothing like a 61-94 team sending a message on a Sunday afternoon in late September, eh? Pathetic. Anyway: Toronto's 15-3 record versus the OrioLOLes is a big reason why the Jays will finish above .500 -- they're on pace to better my 82-80 prediction!!!1 -- in Cito's swan song. And that's exactly how The Manager should go out: a winner.

27 Outs

The sports world never sleeps. Me, I don't sleep enough.

1. I was on the stationary bike when Lyle Overbay took useless loogie Mark Hendrickson deep to right field for walk-off magic. I fist pumped. And you couldn't have slapped the stupid smile off of my face as I watched Overbay round the bases.

2. How enjoyable was it to see LyleO laughingly point to his helmet before he made it home, and then watch John Buck take a swing at his very head? On the Enjoyability Index, which I believe I just created, I'm going to have to go with a nine. Enjoy some fine photographs of the walk-off celebration, courtesy the hard working folks at Reuters (via daylife).

3. I'm working on a post I've so originally titled "Evaluating Overbay," in which I compare Lyle to every other American League first baseman every season since he arrived in Toronto, in terms of weighted on-base average, and weighted runs created plus. Sabermetrics, yo. It'll be up sometime next week, Inshallah.

4. Now that Overbay's finally hit 20 home runs, Adam Lind's going to play first base the rest of the way, right?

5. John Buck will hit his 20th home run next Sunday, October 3rd. Then it's all J.P. Arencibia behind the plate, all the time.

6. Ricky Romero reached and surpassed the 200-innings pitched mark Saturday afternoon. Milestone! Romero's improved his numbers across the board over 2009, except when it comes to wins. Which means Romero hasn't improved at all, actually. While Ricky's had his fair share of struggles, in July and September in particular, and continues to walk batters at a concerning rate, he's a better pitcher today than he was on this date last year. And, most importantly, he's healthy. Thank you, baseball Gods.

7. Edwin Encarnacion is a strong man. His home run to centre field on Saturday -- which sailed comfortably over the wall -- off a sub-90 MPH slider low in the strike zone proved it. It remains one of baseball's biggest shames that this isn't played every time he goes yard at the Dome.

8. You think you've seen it all, until Aaron Hill sends a home run to the second deck that lands in a concession worker's tray. I love baseball.

9. Two hundred and forty-one home runs. The Blue Jays' team record is 244, and it will fall.

10. I love defence, and it was on display Saturday afternoon at the SkyDome. Yunel Escobar's unorthodox throw to complete a double play. Jose Bautista's diving catch in right field, and subsequent doubling off of Ty Wigginton. Vernon Wells' highlight reel catch in centre field. There's nothing like good gloving, which is hopefully not what she said.

11. Speaking of Vernon Wells, The Ack wrote the post I was planning to write at The Tao Of Stieb. And it's always fun when someone does your homework for you. Lost in the shadow of Bautista's 52 home runs this summer has been the resurgence of Vernon Wells. And I'll be the first and last person to tell you that the resurgence of Vernon Wells has been a bloody fantastic development. The Vernon Wells Hatred Advisory System has at no point this season been higher than GUARDED. Wells has quietly reached the 30 home run mark, and in terms of wOBA (.359) and wRC+ (126), has had the third-best season of his career. His career, haters! No, Vernon's not worth the $23 million he's owed next season. Or the $21 million the year after that. And the year after that. And, Jesus, the year after that. But that's not the point.

12. You know what else has been great about 2010? David Purcey coming into his own as a middle reliever. He's got big shoes to fill. Get that paper, Scott Downs. You deserve it.

13. I miss Brandon Morrow.

14. Jesse Carlson's exploits in September: 5.2 IP, 3 H, 2 ER, 1 BB, 4 K, 3.18 ERA, 0.71 WHIP, .150 BAA, .143 BABIP, 2.20 GB/FB. All's well that ends well, right?

15. Drew from Ghostrunner on First wrote Big League Stew's 2010 Toronto Blue Jays Dear John letter. It's a beauty. A couple of excerpts: "A complete game, 132-pitch, 17-strikeout opus came one batter shy of a no-hitter against the Rays. Not only one of the best games thrown by Blue Jays pitching in franchise history, one of the very best games ever pitched. Though no-hitting the Ray is about as rare as a failed urine test at the Lohan home, Morrow completely dominated the hapless Rays hitters with his otherworldly collection of high 90s heat and darting curveballs. ... A winning record heading into the final weeks is a heady accomplishment for a team expected to slip behind the Orioles in the standings. The Baltimore Orioles! Can you imagine anything more insulting?" Make sure you check it out. And about the Orioles, Drew, no, I can't.

16. Regardless of what you think of Cito Gaston, on your feet on Wednesday. No excuses.

17. The Texas Rangers celebrated winning the American League West division title Saturday evening. They're headed back to the playoffs for the first time in 11 years. And, yes, there is a Ron Washington cocaine joke somewhere in there. In all seriousness, I love the Rangers' post-season slogan: It's Time. I'm wondering if they'll lend it to us in Toronto.

18. I'm glad Felix Hernandez has a win-loss record of 12-12. We're about to find out just how far sabermetrics have come, folks.

19. Sunday: Buffalo and New England. Bills and Patriots. Probably just the Patriots. Hide yo kids, hide yo wife. Hide errbody. "Maybe next week, maybe next century ..."

20. After Saturday's loss to San Jose, Toronto FC have all but been mathematically eliminated from MLS's post-season. So: Playoffs!!!1

21. After scoring, again, for TFC Saturday night, Dwayne De Rosario "pulled out his imaginary chequebook and pen and mimicked writing a cheque. It was much more of a message than a goal celebration." I'm with DeRo: it's a crime he's so grossly underpaid compared to the mistakes that are Julian De Guzman and Mista. But there's a time and place for such statements, and it's not during a must-win game when the team you captain is battling life and death for a playoff spot. Hell, there's even a person for such a statement: DeRo's agent.

22. Finally, the Toronto Maple Leafs. And wasn't it great to hear Ron Wilson throw Nazem Kadri under the bus after the Leafs' Saturday night loss to Buffalo? According to master of motivation Wilson, Kadri likes to give the puck away, and needs his skates sharpened. You've just got to love constructive criticism. Especially in public. Perhaps it's all the years of being a Leafs fan finally taking their toll, but I can't help but shake the feeling that this -- Kadri and Wilson -- will not end well. It's a sobering thought. So sobering that I need a drink.

23. Oh, I almost forgot: Nick Foligno, and the beautiful goal he scored Saturday night. You know what made it even better? The fact it came against Montreal, and was scored on Carey Price.

24. Last and certainly least: Daniel Briere, fist pumping like a champ. In the pre-bloody-season! Disgusting.

I know, only 24 outs. This post was called due to rain.

Image of Jose Bautista's weapon of choice courtesy of -- this is a recording -- Reuters, via daylife.

"BOWTISTA"

More proof that Toronto is indeed home to the finest women on the planet. And, yes, those ladies are card-carrying members of the Bautista Appreciation Society.

Fifty-one, and 52. What is there left to say? Hlja vzmnv qieourois lkfdjakf nghfyidt Jose Bautista lklkjadoue vcndml lkncxoue lkadnfnq iern Bautista. The man has officially left me speechless. Without speech, yo.

Sit back, and enjoy the show. With nine games left, that's all there is to do. And, like the ladies above, Bow to Bau.

Wait, there is someone who isn't mailing in posts, and who hasn't been left speechless by Jose Bautista. Read this, from The Southpaw. It's a brilliant example of how ridiculous it is that Bautista is not a part of the American League MVP discussion. I'll tell you this much: if Robinson Cano garners more AL MVP votes than Bautista ... shit, I don't know what I'll do. I need to think about it. I'll get back to you.

Image courtesy of -- who else, man? -- Reuters via daylife. 

Chasing 50

I spent Tuesday and Wednesday nights at the SkyDome, riding shotgun as Jose Bautista chased home run number 50. As he chased baseball immortality. I desperately wanted to be there, two or three Bud Light Lime's deep, when he made history.

So it was of absolutely no surprise that Bautista reached baseball's home run hitting peak on Thursday afternoon, in his first at-bat no less, while I was pinch hitting for my brother at Family Business (that's what we named the company; smart, eh?), big bro off manning the company's booth at a trade show downtown. Deep down, I knew that was exactly how it was going to go down. Hey, I tried.

My brother's got a tiny little television at his desk, at Family Business. It's set to MSNBC, all day, everyday. The stock market. Bulls and bears, yo. Thanks to Thursday's game being televised on Sportsnet Fucking One, the TV was of little use to me. I was riding with Jerry Howarth and Alan Ashby and, I've got to be honest, that was fine by me. And as 12:37 pm rolled around, and Shawn Hill threw his first pitch of the afternoon, I couldn't help but think of another historic home run I'd heard on the radio. You might remember it, too. October 11, 1992, at the then Network Associates Coliseum, in Oakland, California. Roberto Alomar, off Dennis Eckersley, a two-run shot that evened the score in game four of the ALCS, a game the Blue Jays had at one point trailed 6-1.

No, I wasn't in the mood yesterday afternoon to complain about the debacle that is Sportsnet One. Instead, I was ready for what I knew would be Jerry Howarth's epic call. And when it came, I was alone, sitting at my brother's desk, listening attentively when Bautista found himself ahead in the count, two-and-one.

"A ball hit deep to left-centre! Back to the wall! ... THERE SHE GOES!!!1 Number 50!"

I knew Howarth wouldn't let me down. I heard the "!!!1" in his voice. And I sat there, smiling like a jackass. Bautista had done it. Fifty home runs. A number baseball legends Harmon Killebrew, Albert Pujols, Mike Schmidt, Ernie Banks, and Reggie Jackson, to name a few, were never able to reach. And, more than being happy for Bautista, I was proud of him. He never let anything slow him down, especially not the steroid allegations. He was -- is -- a model of immaculate baseball consistency. And number 50 came off of King Felix Hernandez, no less, the 2010 American League Cy Young Award winner, whether he wins the bloody award or not. That's how Bautista rolls. In style.

I would have loved to be there. Like I said, I tried. But there was something special about hearing it happen on the radio. I went all Carlton Fisk, and willed that ball past the left field wall through the radio's speakers. I hoped and prayed that it would indeed clear the fence. I pictured Bautista running the bases, head down, like he'd done it 49 times before. And I listened as the sparse crowd roared, and gave him the curtain call he of course deserved.

On a brief aside: I called out Toronto's hockey fans for booing the home team in preseason game number one Tuesday night because, you know, that was fucking pathetic. Hopefully those same folks were taking notes Thursday afternoon, when the Blue Jays faithful rose to their feet to salute Seattle's Ichiro mid-game, as he became only the second player in baseball history to record 10 seasons with 200 or more hits. Ichiro's insane. And Toronto's baseball fans are smarter, and classier.

Back to business. In the end, not even I could have scripted it any better. Number 50 was the game's only and winning run, at the expense of the American League's best pitcher, with Bautista's parents in attendance, to boot.

In the aftermath of the momentous occasion, as Bautista became only the 26th man in baseball history to hit 50 home runs, and the first since 2007, I read piece after piece about his accomplishment. One of them stood out, from FanGraphs:

"... But in 2010, it's harder to enjoy an out-of-nowhere home run performance in the same way [as others who, like Bautista, recorded massive home run spikes]. ... Once miracles are cheaply bought, they are no longer easily enjoyed. I hope Bautista can keep it up, so that we can finally feel at liberty to enjoy his miraculous season."

I couldn't, and still can't, relate. I've enjoyed Bautista's season immensely. More so than any other individual Toronto Blue Jays' season in recent memory. Yep, even Roy Halladay's years. It's different; Bautista made history. And I wanted to be in attendance when he hit the milestone moon shot partly because I wanted to say thanks. Not once have I felt not at liberty to enjoy Bautista's miraculous season all summer. One through 50, it's been a blast. I wasn't there, but thanks, Jose.

Image courtesy the fine folks at daylife. 

4,306

I'll keep this short, and simple: the process is bullshit. As The Tao of Stieb pointed out, even if Tom Cheek wins the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum's poll to appear on the final ballot for the 2011 Ford C. Frick Award, there's no guarantee Cheek wins the honour, and takes his rightful place among baseball's legends in Cooperstown.

But that doesn't mean we shouldn't do our part. And while I'd love to tell you where the poll stands today, I just voted, and apparently only 80 votes have been cast. (Cheek's got 50 of them.) Like I said: bullshit. There's got to be a better venue for the poll than bloody Facebook. But that's not the point.

The point is: please vote for Tom at http://www.facebook.com/baseballhall?v=app_20678178440. Today, and everyday until September is done.

"Please pass this along to all the fans who are doing their best to get Tom this award that he so richly deserves. Please convey that to all the fans that the entire Cheek family says a HUGE THANKS!!"

- Shirley Cheek, Tom's wife (via Mike Wilner)

UPDATE: I got an email from reader Stephen, who had this to say: "Every year I have voted in every way possible for Tom Cheek for the Frick award. I am not on Facebook and never will be so I'm pissed that I can't be involved anymore."

You are so dumb, National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museam. You are really, really dumb, for real.

Meaningful At-Bats

We continue, in Toronto, to wait for meaningful baseball. Patiently, I might add. And as the Blue Jays were officially -- mathematically -- eliminated from post-season play Sunday afternoon in Boston, I reverted to the old adage, tried, tested, and true: maybe next year.

But 2010 has far from been a lost cause. (Unless you're Travis Snider, or J.P. Arencibia, but that's a whole other story.) Toronto hasn't lost 100 games. They won't end up anywhere near the dreaded century mark. And they certainly won't finish below the Baltimore Orioles in the standings. Shame on those of you who even thought of such a fortune. No, we weren't treated to meaningful baseball this season, even though it's clear the franchise is headed towards the light. But, thanks to Jose Bautista, we were treated to that which we haven't seen around these parts since Carlos Delgado's heyday: meaningful at-bats.

Forty-nine home runs. One every 10.65 at-bats. And counting. A violent assault not only on fastballs, but on Toronto's, and baseball's, record books. History. Bautista will become the first Blue Jay to hit 50 home runs in a season. It's going to happen, and, no, I don't believe in jinxes. And when it does, when number 50 does clear the left field wall (hopefully at the SkyDome), the feat will have been accomplished for only the 42nd time in baseball history.

The Toronto Blue Jays have been around since 1977. The Steroid Era has come and gone. Bautista will be the first to hit 50 for the good guys, and he could very well be the last. That's the beauty of baseball. You just never know. I'm convinced the franchise will one day return the post-season. Will add a pennant, or two, to their collection. But I'm not so sure I'll ever see another no-hitter. Perhaps Dave Stieb's effort was Toronto's pitching performance of my lifetime. And, in that same light, perhaps Bautista's exploits in the batter's box have been Toronto's home run hitting performance of my lifetime.

Post-All Star break, there's been a buzz everytime Bautista has stepped up to the plate. It's palpable. At home, on the road, and even on television. Bautista excites; Bautista has people talking baseball. (And beards.) There's an expectation that regardless of who's throwing the ball, and how fast it's traveling, and how much it's moving, Bautista can murder it. The situation hardly matters, either. Nobody could be on base. Actually, nobody usually is. The Blue Jays could be down by five. Yet each Bautista at-bat matters. Each Bautista at-bat means more than any other.

The only comparable seasons to Bautista's are John Olerud's 1993 campaign, and Carlos Delgado's 2000 and 2003 seasons. Olerud flirted with .400 that magical summer, and finished with a Weighted On-Base Average (wOBA) of .453, and a Weighted Runs Created Plus (wRC+) of 181. In 2000, Delgado hit 41 home runs, and put up an incredible wOBA of .471. King Carlos bested Olerud's wRC+ by one, finishing with a rating of 182. Delgado finished fourth in MVP voting that season, which still completely blows my mind. In 2003, Delgado hit 42 home runs, and tallied a wOBA of .423, and a wRC+ of 160.

Bautista, with 49 home runs to his name, and 12 games left on the schedule, today sports a wOBA of .423, and a wRC+ of 170. Like I said: historic. One of the finer offensive seasons Toronto has ever seen. Delgado-esque. And who could ever have imagined saying that about the journeyman outfielder-slash-third baseman?

I get it, now. I get why Damien Cox, and others in his wake, had to ask the question. We're talking history, and in Bautista, a player who has come out of nowhere. Literally. Pittsburgh: baseball's nowhere. What I wish I'd see less of, though, in the Toronto media landscape, is "But you've got to at least ask the question ..." masquerading as reporting. Because I'd put money on the fact that Bautista is indeed clean. He's been tested. And he does not physically look the part of a juicer. If the Steroid Era taught us anything, it's that the human eye does not deceive. There's more: Bautista hasn't hit a cheap home run to opposite field all season. He's pulled one through 49 to the left side. The proof in Bautista's changed mechanics alibi -- he's closer to the plate with his back foot, his hands are higher, and he starts his leg kick, and swing, earlier -- can be found in the fact he's hitting fastballs 32.8 runs above average this season, compared to only 4.2 runs above average in 2009. Bautista essentially owns the inner-half of the plate. He's made a conscious decision to pull the ball. If he doesn't get a pitch to pull, he'll gladly take a walk, his on-base percentage a career-high .382, far above his .342 career average. Instead of wondering whether Bautista is on steroids, where are the columns applauding Bautista's patience at the plate? Where are the columns asking an even more important question: why the hell is he still being pitched to inside?

It's pointless, defending Jose Bautista's honour. I know that. And, at the end of the day, he doesn't need my help. His urine has done, and will continue to do, the talking.

Instead, I'm going to enjoy Bautista's final meaningful, and hopefully violent, at-bats this season. I'm going to be at the SkyDome on Tuesday night, and Wednesday night, and maybe even Thursday afternoon. Perhaps I'll be there on the weekend, too. And maybe next week, when the Yankees are in town. Bautista's got nine games to hit number 50 at home, in Toronto. And I'm not going to miss it.

Beautiful image via daylife.

Welcome Home

There's nothing like it in sports. The visitors sullenly leave the field, while the hosts -- suddenly victorious -- congregate around the irregular pentagon that is home plate.

Men become boys. All that matters is first base, second base, third base, and, to a hero's welcome, home.

Long live the walk-off home run. Especially to avoid a sweep, on a sunny Sunday afternoon in September.

Image, as always, courtesy of daylife.

Run and tell that!1

The Toronto Blue Jays hit so many home runs, so often, that visiting bullpens are cowering in fear at the SkyDome.

Literally.

After four Tuesday night, and 13 in their last five, give Toronto 215 jacks on the season. (Jacks, long balls, taters ... what am I missing?) And of those most recent 13, none, believe it or not, have come as a result of Jose Bautista's -- I love the following description -- violent swing.

Your 2010 Blue Jays are averaging 1.58 dingers -- How could I forget dingers? -- a game. To eclipse the team record of 244, set 10 years ago when Tony Bautista and Carlos Delgado hit 41 apiece, and Brad Fullmer hit 32, and Jose Cruz hit 31, and Raul Mondesi hit 24, and Shannon Stewart hit 21, and Darrin Fletcher hit 20, and Alex Gonzalez hit 15, they need 30 bombs -- how could I forget bombs? -- in 24 games; 1.25 a contest.

Records are falling. Records will fall. Not bad for a rebuilding season. Entertaining, at the very least. And, hey, just imagine Toronto's on-base percentage wasn't a laughable .314, good for 27th in the league, in the company of the Houstons, Baltimores, Pittsburghs and Seattles of the baseball world. (FYI: In the World Series years -- the salad days -- Toronto's OBPs were .333 and .350, respectively.)

I can. If more Blue Jays got on base, fewer would go yard. And then, who knows, maybe that photo, that priceless moment in the Texas Rangers bullpen, doesn't happen. Doesn't get captured. That would have been a shame.

Year of the pitcher? The Toronto Blue Jays would disagree.

Epic image courtesy daylife.

Haters Gonna Hate

After Jose Bautista fell victim to the Yankee Stadium strike zone during Saturday afternoon's 7th inning, he lost it. And rightfully so. There's only so much balls-and-strikes bullshit a man can take. Me, I loved his passion. Jose Bautista believes in Jose Bautista, and that's a big part of what has made him one of the most feared hitters in baseball.

Success breeds resentment. Resentment breeds hate. Especially in New York, where Bautista has put on a show this season. In 30 at-bats in the Bronx, Bautista's line reads: .333/.474/.567. Two home runs, six RsBI, and a 1.041 OPS. Against the Yankees in 2010, Bautista has owned: .340/.516/.766. An OPS of 1.282. Six home runs, along with 12 RsBI, and 17 free passes.

Jose Bautista: Yankees killer. It's no wonder they're hating.

Jose Bautista got roid rage?

- @mnmnstrd

A standing ovation for originality.

Nevermind arguing balls and strikes, Jose Bautista should be kicked out of every game until he does something about that awful beard of his.

- @Skorka29

The words of a man who clearly cannot grow his own Bautista Beard. Haters gonna hate.

Jose Bautista was just ejected. I hope he does some of his meaningless fist pumps on the way back to the dugout.

- @ChrisSerico

Clearly, Mr. Serico isn't well versed when it comes to the timeless art of the fist pump. We've seen Bautista hit a lot of home runs this season, and not show a lot of emotion in the process. Two weeks ago, after he was sent to the dirt by Yankees rookie Ivan Nova, Bautista took the time to enjoy one of his jacks. It was only his 40th home run of the season; only his second of the game. The solo shot only broke a 2-2 tie in the home half of the 8th inning, at the SkyDome. The benches had cleared only two innings before. And Yankees catcher Francisco Cervelli had fist-pumped his little heart out in the 1st inning, after Fred Lewis was thrown out at home plate. No, Chris Serico, there was nothing meaningless about Bautista's fist pumps. And you know that.

[Ejection] Doesn't surprise me, seems like a punk. Success gone to his head.

- @JonathonLittle

I have no doubt Jonathon Little would love Damien Cox's writing. Haters gonna hate.

Glad Jose Bautista was tossed.....can't stand that guy

- @TheKevinStewart

Mr. Stewart has seen Bautista's numbers versus New York. Haters gonna hate.

Jose Bautista should've been thrown out. He feels so entitled. He's no veteran.

- @DaveKast

A Yankees fan commenting on somebody else's sense of entitlement. The irony, as always, is delicious.

Thankfully, there are some people out there who get it:

Even when he gets tossed, jose bautista's a stud

- @faizalkhamisa

My thoughts exactly.

Image courtesy of daylife. Love their work.

A case of mistaken identity ...

I walked into a local Subway for lunch on Wednesday. Tuna, yo. On whole wheat. I sauntered over to the ordering area and, before I could tell the young gentleman on the other side of the glass what I wanted, he said:

"Oh, I thought you were the baseball player ... Jose Bautista."

I was, of course, wearing my Blue Jays cap. And my Bautista beard.

I laughed. Awkwardly. I might have blushed, which is utterly ridiculous. Finally, not knowing how to respond, I said: "No, but Bautista's pretty awesome."

"Yeah ... You're right ... He is," came the Subway employee's laboured response. And since the exchange wasn't apparently awkward enough, we then shared a couple of seconds of torturous silence, before he finally got around to putting together my sandwich.

The bottom line: People are seeing Jose Bautista in the streets. And can you blame them?

What a season. One for the record books. For the first time in Toronto baseball history, a Blue Jay will hit 50 home runs.

"[Jose Bautista is] one of my favourite players."

- George Bell

Mine, too.

Image courtesy of daylife. Thanks, yo.

Respect

I've yet to come down from my Jose Bautista high. If you have, watch this.

Which do you prefer: a 16-2 thrashing of the Boston Red Sox by the Blue Jays at Fenway Park, or a dramatic 3-2 victory over the New York Yankees at the ole Dome? Both contests certainly had their charm, and I enjoyed Toronto's Boston Massacre probably more than anyone, but if I had to pick one, I'd have to choose the events of Monday night. What an evening of baseball!1 I needed a cigarette after it was all said and done.

What didn't happen in that game? Ejections, a home plate umpire who couldn't discern the strikezone even as he crouched behind it, a benches clearing -- what shall we call it? -- brouhaha, and, of course, long-ball theatrics, and some showmanship, from Jose Bautista.

What's left to be said about Bautista that hasn't already been written? Forty home runs. A feat Carlos Delgado, the greatest Blue Jays slugger I've ever known, managed but three times in Toronto. But it wasn't that Bautista hit the 40-mark Monday night; it was the way he got there.

What I've enjoyed most about watching Bautista as the season has progressed is the confidence he's brought to the batter's box. As home run after home run began to stockpile, Bautista began, more and more, to believe in himself; to believe in his abilities. Now he steps up to the plate knowing -- believing -- he can take any pitcher out of the ballpark. And it was that confidence, and that swagger, that was on display last night for the New York Yankees, and the baseball world, to see.

Bautista has become a leader on the Blue Jays. The leader, perhaps. And if Bautista doesn't yet have your respect, he will demand it. And he will go out and get it. What I loved most about Bautista's comments post-game was the candor with which he delivered them. Unhappy with being sent to the mat by a high-and-tight fastball from Yankees rookie Ivan Nova, Bautista said he slowly made his way out to the mound in order to gauge the youngster's reaction. He was testing Nova. And Nova failed.

Proof of Bautista's elevation to slugger, and leader, was found in the reaction to the melee, by both the Yankees and Blue Jays. As Bautista crept to the mound, it was New York manager Joe Girardi who stepped in front of him and asked that his young pitcher's bravado be forgiven. Girardi could have gone to his pitcher; he chose to restrain Bautista. And as Girardi put his hands on Bautista, it was Jose Molina first on the scene for Toronto, grabbing Bautista away from the Yankees skipper, and walking him away from the scene.

Then there was the business of Bautista's 40th home run. A no-doubter, if there ever was one. Look, I'm all for guys playing the game the right way; for a slugger to hit a home run and act like he's done it, oh, you know, 39 times before. But Bautista had every right to enjoy that long ball more than any of the his previous 39, and I'm glad he did. Bautista was locked-in; focused. It was, as Parkes over at Drunk Jays Fans put it, "perhaps the greatest display by a hitter in a single at bat that I've ever seen." David Robertson paid dearly for Ivan Nova's mistake.

In the aftermath of the home run, more proof of Bautista's exalted status. If you watch the replays closely, as Bautista steps out of the dugout for his curtain call (yes!!!1), DeWayne Wise and Freddy Lewis are standing on the top step of the dugout, nodding their heads, and looking, it seems, straight at the Yankees dugout. It was as intense a moment I've witnessed all season; a sure sign that this Blue Jays team is tight-knit, and will not back down from anybody, no matter how many games they're behind in the standings.

Jose Bautista has single-handedly brought people back to the ballpark this season. He has single-handedly given people a reason to talk about the Toronto Blue Jays. Bautista has made it easier to swallow the terrible seasons Adam Lind and Aaron Hill are having. He's made it easy to not lose sleep over the fact that save for April and May, Vernon Wells has been awful, and is an absolutely insane choice to be batting cleanup. Bautista is the biggest part of why this season has been one of the most memorable in recent years, and a big part of why Toronto is buzzing about baseball. If you were at the game Monday night, or watching on television like I was, you could sense that there was indeed something different about it. Yankees fans certainly noticed. Their players did, too. Bautista is now enemy number one in their books, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Bautista will break George Bell's single-season Toronto record of 47 home runs. Bautista will hit 50. It's his summer. And I will not, goddamnit, let Damien Cox ruin it.

The Undercard

If Jose Bautista vs. David Robertson was Monday night's main event, Brandon Morrow vs. the New York Yankees was the undercard. Morrow's masterful performance was lost in the lights of The Jose Bautista Show, but it certainly did not go unnoticed.

It's not everyday a pitcher mows through the New York lineup, striking out 12 batters in six innings while only scattering four hits. Morrow put to rest any doubts about his arm, striking out the New York side on three separate occasions: in the 1st, 3rd, and 6th innings. When's the last time you saw that happen?

"Gotta At Least Ask The Question"

Thanks to the aforementioned Cox, everyone's favourite scribe, the Bautista-steroid rumours and allegations aren't going to disappear. The fact Jose got to 40 in the manner that he did against New York won't help. Brady Anderson's name was flying about on Twitter last night, let me tell you.

If Cox is so eager to "at least ask the question," I wonder, where was Cox last summer, when Aaron Hill, who'd never hit more than 17 home runs, and was coming off a concussion-riddled campaign that saw him hit two home runs in 55 games, swatted 36 home runs? Where was Cox when Adam Lind, who hit 11 home runs in 2007, and 9 home runs in 2008, hit 35 last season?

Roger Maris hit 16 home runs in 1959, and 39 in 1960. In 1961 he set the standard: 61 home runs. He'd never hit more than 33 in a season again. I guess he might have been on steroids, too.

Here are my questions: Why Bautista? Why now?

The bottom line: if Bautista is indeed using a super-steroid which isn't turning up in the drug tests he's taking, he needs to start sharing. With Lind, and Hill, and Wells. Because sharing is caring. And because lord only knows those guys could use the help.

Some good has, and will continue to, come out of this situation. It's rather apparent that even those that work with Cox don't seem to like him very much. He's been called out, through sarcastic blog posts and tweets, by his colleagues in his own newsroom, and those in other newsrooms. And while I've promised myself on many occasions to never read Cox again, I'm sticking to it this time. His Bautista piece was the last straw.

#TeamGriffin.

Image courtesy of daylife.

Stealing Home: Baseball in the desert, Part 2

I wrote approximately 6,000 words about my visit to Chase Field, the home of the Arizona Diamondbacks. Ridiculous, I know; hence why I broke the Stealing Home entries into two parts. But it all makes sense, considering all that went down on a sunny afternoon in late May in the desert.

Baseball in the desert, Part 2 is up over at Globe Sports. Have a read. Perhaps the Toronto Blue Jays jersey I saw at Chase Field, which took me back in time, will have the same effect on you. I'll also tell you all about the swimming pool in right-centre field, and the town hall meeting I attended with Diamondbacks President and CEO Derrick Hall, then general manager Josh Byrnes, then manager A.J. Hinch, and 150 or so Arizona season-ticket holders.

Diamondbacks second baseman Kelly Johnson's and Alex Anthopoulos' names were linked during that town hall meeting. And I don't know about you, but I want nothing more than for Johnson to trade his Arizona uniform for a Toronto one. His arrival would mean the end of the Edwin Encarnacion era, with Aaron Hill taking E5's place at the hot corner. Think about it: Anthopoulos long desired Anthony Gose. And he got him. I hope the same fate awaits Johnson, his 129 wRC+, and his 4.3 WAR. Even if it means the Jays part with some of their young arms.

I'll never forget Chase Field, largely because of what it did to my "Schlagballbewusstsein." And I hope you enjoy my latest piece.

Also: be a dear, and let me know what you think about the new banner. Personally, I think it looks fantastic.