End Of An Era...

Do not be alarmed. That picture, by all accounts, is real. On some distant planet many, many years ago, Brad Wilkerson did, in fact, receive a curtain call. He played for some team called the "Expos." No, I don't know who the hell they are, either.

It's over, my friends. The Brad Wilkerson era in Toronto, which began on May 9, 2008, has mercifully come to an end nine agonizing months later.

Wilkerson, a free agent, is off to play terrible baseball for the Boston Red Sox, the fourth team he will inevitably let down in the last five years.

His signing, worth a base salary of $400,000, but with the potential to go as high as $2.5 million, proves that baseball actually is immune to the ills of the global financial crisis. If Wilkerson can parlay his dry-heaves inducing 2008 statistics - a .220 batting average, .308 on-base percentage, and .634 OPS - into a job during these trying economic times, well, Major League Baseball is doing just fine, thank you very much.

You know, I don't know much in life, but I am certain about one thing: my unborn son is so playing baseball.

As he packs his bags for New England, I wish Wilkerson nothing but the best. I look forward to never seeing him in a Toronto Blue Jays uniform again.

Marvelous Matinee

Wow. That was most enjoyable. Ain't nothing like beating the living shit out of the Boston Red Sox. To do it at Fenway Park, against their "ace," well, I can't ask for much more than that.

Sure, it was only a two game set thanks to Friday's game being rained out, but we won 'em both. And last I checked, that's still a sweep. The legendary Tao of Stieb put it best: "Yah chowdah heads! Why don't you take those 15 runs and shove them up Sweet Caroline's pooper?!"

The Jays looked like they were making up for a season's worth of terrible hitting, and overall execution, in yesterday's joyous matinee affair. It was fun to watch. Fifteen runs, 22 hits, and an astonishing 10 doubles. It was the type of offensive display I envisioned I'd be watching on a regular basis from these Blue Jays. Oh, how wrong I was.

Alex Rios was the main event in yesterday's doubles parade. Dude was simply on fire, finishing five-for-six with four two-baggers and a single, three runs scored, and two runs batted in.

Once again, I've got to show Johnny McDonald some love. In the first inning, with the Jays up four-nil and runners on second and third with two down, Mac, the ultra-light hitting PMoD (if you still don't know what PMoD stands for, shame on you), stroked a Josh Beckett offering off the Green Monstah for a double. Six-nothing Jays. It was a huge hit early from the number nine hitter, and it sent a message to the BoSox. The message? Something along the lines of "Today, we will not be fucked with. And Beckett sucks."

Hey, you know that Adam Lind guy? He's good.

Hey, you know that Brad Wilkerson guy? He's, uh, not very good. Yeah, he's made some circus catches the last couple of months in the field, but his .215 batting average and .624 OPS, in 74 games with Toronto, are downright awful.

Might there be a Richie Sexson sighting?

The Jays, fresh off their successful 5-1 road trip, head into their off day today with a 65-60 record, and seven games behind Boston in the wild card race (you're damned right it's a race). If the Red Sox look hard enough, they might just see Toronto in their rear view mirror, far off in the distance, but gaining some ground nonetheless. Remember what the always-wise Ace Ventura Pet Detective said: "Assholes in mirror are closer than they appear!" Yes, we are those assholes.

Seven games. Crazier shit has happened. And New York and Boston will be in town this week, beginning tomorrow night. This is what it's all about, folks.

Bring on the Yankees.

Worth The Price Of Admission

I had the sheer pleasure of being in the audience last night as Roy Halladay threw his seventh complete game of the season, absolutely dominated the New York Yankees, and led the Blue Jays to a 5-0 win.

Watching Doc do his thing on the mound is akin to watching a master at work; like watching an artist paint a masterpiece. It is simply beautiful. Like poetry, man. No one in baseball does it like Harry Leroy Halladay III.

For Doc, yesterday was simply another day at the office, despite facing one of baseball's most feared lineups. He struck out eight and walked only one. The only hit Halladay allowed before the 9th inning was a line drive to centre field by uber douchebag Alex Rodriguez, which Brad Wilkerson completely misplayed. If Vernon Wells or Alex Rios were playing centre field last night, Doc would have taken a no-hitter into the 9th inning.

Over his last 12 starts, Halladay is 8-1. He leads the American League in innings pitched and strikeouts. His seven complete games thrown are more than any other team - team! - in baseball. Cleveland's entire staff has thrown six complete games, good for second behind Halladay. Read that again. Let it sink in. The man is a machine.

Remember in Terminator 2, when Arnold knifes himself up and reveals his robotic arm? I think Halladay has that same arm. He is from the future. A pitching machine sent back in time to save the Toronto Blue Jays. He is truly a joy to watch, and an argument could be made that he is the greatest pitcher to ever take the mound in the history of the franchise. Enjoy him while he's here, Toronto. Appreciate him. Give him a hug. Tell him you love him. Because he won't be around forever.

While Halladay was at his filthy best last night, he did get some help from his defence. I was thinking about how best to describe the play Marco Scutaro and John McDonald made in the 8th inning, but some blessed soul has already uploaded it to YouTube. Check it out:



A thing of beauty, eh? Johnny Mac had to reach for the ball from Scutaro, spin around, and throw a bullet over to first in time to get the runner. No problem. He really is the Prime Minister of Defence. That might have been the best defensive play I've ever witnessed at a baseball game.

All of a sudden, after the sweep of the Baltimore Orioles, which included two - two!!! - come from behind, walk-off wins, the Jays are only a game under the .500 mark, with two more dates with the Yankees. And A.J. Burnett, on only three days rest, is getting the start on Sunday.

A sweep of the boys from the Bronx will send the Jays into the all-star break with a 48-47 record, and make manager Cito Gaston look like one incredibly smart man. I don't know about you, but I'm not ready to throw in the towel on this season just yet. Not when I see that type of effort from Roy Halladay and the boys against the New York Yankees.

Doc will of course be representing the Jays at next week's all-star festivities. Sure, Cleveland's Cliff Lee is having a great season and it looks like he'll get the nod to start the all-star game for the American League. That's great. I don't really care who starts, because we all know who the best pitcher in baseball is.

His name is Roy Halladay, and he's well worth the price of admission.

Free Adam Lind

I suspect the talk about Adam Lind and his toilage in the minor leagues will reach a fever pitch this weekend as former Toronto Blue Jays outfielder Reed Johnson makes his return to the confines of the Rogers Centre.

Many, especially the gents at The Southpaw and The Mockingbird, have for quite some time been making the case for Lind as the Jays' left fielder not of the future, but of today. I may not have been on board before, but I certainly am now.

Lind is ripping - ripping! - it in AAA ball. In 46 games down on the farm he's batting .337 with 17 doubles, five home runs, and 46 RsBI. He's sporting a tidy .392 on base percentage and a dirty .935 OPS. Concerns about his defense are overstated, in my opinion. Dude's only made one error all season. Clearly, Lind's got nothing left to prove down in Syracuse.

So, umm, JP, pardon my language, but why the fuck isn't Lind up with the big club? I'm going to have to plead ignorance because, well, I just don't get it. I've said it before and I'll say it again: we're a .500 ball club as we go into action tonight, and I'd much rather be a .500 ball club with Adam Lind patrolling left field than any one of Brad Wilkerson, Shannon Stewart, or Kevin Mench.

I. Don't. Get. It.

I think all of us Toronto Blue Jays fans need to go on a hunger strike, you know, in order to force JP to summon Lind from the minors. I must confess, I'm currently reading Gandhi's autobiography, hence the idea. Gandhi was one eccentric cat, but his non-violent and civil disobedience ways certainly worked out well for the motherland.

It's pretty absurd to let Lind tear up minor league pitching while the big club struggles for its life to plate runs. And remember, Stewart, Wilkerson and Mench all joined the Jays in April or later, and are not part of the future of this ball club.

I don't fucking get it. Free Adam Lind.

Oh, and if you were at the game tonight, I hope you showed Reed Johnson some love. He was, and continues to be, a rudey.