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.

The Cito Effect

While you're fawning over Adam Lind's new contract extension -- and you still ought to be celebrating the deal, considering it's worth, over seven years, $45 million less than Nick Markakis' -- please do me a favour: take a minute and recall that it was "The Manager" who made it his first order of business, after he was rehired in June 2008, to assure young Lind that he'd seen the last of the minor leagues; that he was from then on, and forevermore, a big leaguer.

Let's not forget that for all the dirt thrown on Cito Gaston's name, it's been under his tutelage that Lind has blossomed into one of the finest designated hitters, and a Silver Slugger, in the American League. Clarence Cito isn't all bad. Mostly bad. But not all bad.

A Flying Start

Who does this Alex Anthopoulos guy think he is?

First he makes, by all accounts, a great trade -- if there ever could be one -- for Roy Halladay. Next: spring training, and his lauded efforts in making the Toronto Blue Jays a more transparent organization. Then AA beats out, ho-hum, the New York Yankees for the services of Cuban prospect Adeiny Hechevarria. Finally, the extension for Lindiana's Finest.

Tell me: what's not to like? While the coming season will certainly have its trials and tribulations, Anthopoulos certainly seems like the right man to lead the Blue Jays out of the post-season wilderness.

The Money Quote

"We believe in the player, just as we believed in Aaron."

- Alex Anthopoulos

An ode to J.P. Ricciardi, it makes me that much fonder of the new general manager.

The Sea is the Soundtrack

Palolem, south Goa. I've been sitting on the beach, jotting down some of my thoughts ...

1. The music out here in Goa is, for lack of a better description, TACK CITY. You can't go very far without hearing Enrique Eglasias, Savage Garden, Bryan Adams (he's Canadian, so he's cool), and, most unfortunately, Ricky Martin. Dido's "White Flag" came on a few days ago while I was having lunch and my thoughts of course drifted towards Mats Sundin. He went down with the ship. Like a right, honourable captain shoud. I miss him. It's not too late for him to come out of retirement and play with Phil Kessel. A fan can dream. Especially a Toronto sports fan.

2. When in Goa, try the Prawn/Chicken/Beef Xacuti (pronounced "cha-coothie"). It's divine.

3. I'm obviously late to the party but it certainly took me by surprise to learn that Ilya Kovalchuk is a New Jersey Devil. I can't say I saw them winning the sweepstakes. But the Devils are, as always, competitive, so I have to respect their taking the plunge. I'm curious as to when the Devils last traded a first-round draft choice. It doesn't seem like their modus operandi. They are the antithesis of the Toronto Maple Leafs. Especially when it comes to winning.

4. I'm reading Eckhart Tolle's "The Power of Now." The cynic in me is having a hard time believing it's anything but 270-odd pages of complete, utter bullshit. Actually, I was reading it. It was stolen yesterday from the deck of my beach hut down here in Palolem. TRUST NOBODY.

5. There are no traffic lights in Goa. Not in the cities, not in the tourist beaches areas, nowhere. I've yet to come across one. While speed bumps, and potholes that make Steeles Avenue seem like asphalt heaven, are numerous, the only time a car comes to complete stop is when cows set up shop on the roads.

6. While sitting on the beach drinking buckets of Kingfisher, my thoughts invariably drifted towards the boys of summer, our Toronto Blue Jays. It's been quite the few months for Alex Anthopoulos and, while expectations are low, nothing would please me more than seeing the 2010 squad win more than 75 games; more than they won in 2009 with Roy Halladay taking the mound every five days. It's nothing against Doc; how could it be? But I've turned the page. I'm genuinely excited about the future.

7. I have no idea who Kevin Gregg is.

8. As I'm sure you noticed, the new Sports And The City banner is up. Welcome to your Aaron Hill years. And thanks, Deaner.

9. While getting my head shaved a couple of days ago, the power went out. Which I of course knew it would. For a good half hour, to boot. Needless to say, I got to know my barber, Imran from Faridabad, really well. With half a buzzed head, I didn't really have a choice. I'm not religious and don't often pray, but sitting in that chair, I asked the heavens for electricity.

10. We take electricity and hot water for granted in the west. Perhaps that's why the terrorists hate us.

11. I'm hoping to return home a less bitter man. More contentment, less complaining. In all walks of life. With that in mind, my thoughts drifted towards Cito Gaston. The Manager. When the Blue Jays ruled the baseball world, I was too young to know that Gaston doesn't have a clue in the dugout. I've figured it out now. But I'm not going to spend 2010 complaining about his shortcomings. What's the point? Cito is what he is. No one, especially not me, can take his World Series rings away from him. I'm going to do my best to enjoy his swan song, and remember the good times. Such as the emergence of Adam Lind. If Cito can somehow do the same with Travis Snider, we're all good.

12. Once you ride public transportation in India, you won't give a damn about a TTC booth operator taking a power nap. Again, we're spoiled out west. Automated announcements, air conditioning, and, I don't know, a bus not in motion while you hang half way out the back door. The fare? Ten rupees. I guess you get what you pay for, eh?

13. The locals have a staring problem. Necks must hurt around here.

14. India is in severe need of a humane society. Stray dogs are everywhere, and bark the nights away.

15. Nazem Kadri's NHL debut; I'm sorry I missed that. How'd my boy do?

16. I wish I knew how to ride a scooter. It would have made the Goa experience that much better. I've never ridden one, and learning in India doesn't seem all that wise. Like skiing for the first time in Whistler, which I did back in 2001. I barely survived that experience. Lesson learned. Plus, the only helmets worn around these parts are the natural kind: turbans. On an aside, it's a miracle of God that hundreds aren't killed on the roads in front of my very eyes everyday.

17. Vesa Toskala doesn't think he's a back-up. He might be as delusional as I am.

18. I might have to visit Ponani, Goa, south of here. Just so I can call home and say "Everything is wonderful; I'm in Ponani."

19. Has Chris Bosh re-signed yet? Please call/text/email when he does. Playoffs!!1

20. For the next two weeks, "Playoffs!!1" is being replaced by "Gold!!1"

Brandon League a Mariner? Yep, League's a Mariner

UPDATE #7: (2:27 pm) According to the Drunks, Chavez was ranked Toronto's #1 prospect by The Hardball Times.

Chavez, from Tumero, Venezuela, had a very successful year in Lansing this season putting up a .283 AVG, .346 OBP, .474 SLG. As an international free agent, he was signed to a $2 million contract in 2006.

UPDATE #6: Rumour has Johermyn Chavez pegged as "the prospect." I have no idea who he is. Which is bloody awesome!!1

Rumours are flying around Twitter late tonight (12:15 am) that It's true: Alex Anthopoulos and the Toronto Blue Jays have acquired Brandon Morrow from the Seattle Mariners for Brandon League, and a prospect. Who that prospect is, I (still, at 2:40 am) have zero fucking idea. Nobody does at this point. David Cameron, from the reputable USS Mariner, has speculated that it might be Brett Wallace, which doesn't make sense to me, otherwise he would have went Seattle's way in the three-team Roy Halladay trade and it's not.

But let's hold on a second here. I'm losing focus. What you need to do right now is pray for our good friend Lloyd the Barber from Ghostrunner on First. First Doc. Now League. They were right: life isn't fair. If you read GoF, and I assume you do, you know how highly we, the community, think of League.

Moving along: Brandon Morrow. Everyone and their mother is high on this kid. He strikes out a ton of batters, and walks plenty of them as well. I'm sure he'll get along great with The Manager. At the end of the day, as long as "the prospect" isn't Brett Wallace or Travis Snider, we're good. (Except for Drew. Sorry mate.)

In a perfect world, the prospect is Lyle Overbay. He was huge in 2006. Tremendous upside, and he's a Washington boy!1

Here's what the 2010 Blue Jays rotation looks like:

Ricky Romero

Shaun Marcum

Brett Cecil

Brandon Morrow

Marc Rzepczynski

A good left-right mix, with Scott Richmond as the long-man, and Brian Tallet back in the bullpen where he belongs.

Here's what we know for certain: Alex Anthopoulos is doing work. He's putting his stamp on this team.

Playoffs!!1

UPDATE: Here's David Cameron with some insight on Brandon Morrow ...

Plus fastball, inconsistent curve, minus minus command. Has potential, still needs a lot of work. A.J. Burnett upside. But in terms of development, he's basically a Triple-A starter. Very raw.

Burnett is dead to me, so fuck him. But there's nothing wrong with raw talent. It's a good thing this team's got one Roy Halladay, and Brad Arnsberg, to teach Morrow the ropes. Oh ...

UPDATE #2: My man @dlbrows posted the following link on Twitter, from The Mockingbird, about Brandon League and his 97 MPH sinker. You know, the pitch nobody else in baseball throws. If this rumoured trade is fact, League will be sorely missed around these parts, no matter how good Morrow is. To these eyes, he was always the closer of the future.

UPDATE #3: I hope "the prospect" is not R-Zep. It can't be R-Zep.

UPDATE #4: The Seattle Times's Geoff Baker believes in Brandon League.

UPDATE #5: (1:38 am) It's not Wallace. We knew this already. Because there was no way that was happening in the first place. But it's good to know know.

Tom and Alex

The Toronto Blue Jays are not likely to qualify for the post-season for a good, I don't know, year or two. In order to pass the time, let's vote Tom Cheek onto the final ballot for the 2010 Ford C. Frick Award, and send him on his way to Cooperstown. Lord knows he deserves it.

At the time of writing, Cheek trails Jacques Doucet by 20 votes (337-317).

Four-thousand, three-hundred and six games. (I wrote it out for dramatic effect.) In a row. In a row!1 More importantly, Cheek was voice to the calls of your life; to the "the sound of summer." It takes less than a minute. I don't ask you for much; please vote.

Make Us Proud, Alex

I'll be at my cubicle Monday, but my heart and mind will be in Indianapolis, with Alex Anthopoulos at his first Winter Meetings as general manager of our Blue Jays.

Some interesting nuggets from The Star's Richard Griffin: if you want to see Anthopoulos, you'll have to go to his room, not the other way around. And meetings are lined up with "several clubs." To be a fly. Hopefully Dick figured out which floor AA is staying on.

There is some bad news: The Cito arrives on Tuesday. I've completed my 180. I used to love Cito Gaston. Now, the thought of him being involved in decisions that will greatly alter this franchise makes me ill. Where did we go wrong, Cito?

UPDATE: As of 11:00 am, Tom Cheek is in the lead 387-359. Let's keep it going ...

146

"The rate at which a person can mature is directly proportional to the embarrassment he can tolerate."

- Douglas Engelbert

If that's the case, after allowing one-hundred and forty-fucking-six (146!!1) points, the Toronto Raptors must be done maturing. Right? It can't possibly get much worse, or much more embarrassing, than last night in Atlanta, can it?

Whatever ails this Raptors squad, surely Reggie Evans cannot cure it on his own.

Once again, playing the part of the reasonable, even-keeled fan, I think it's an appropriate time to call for the coach's head. Fire Jay Triano. "At least we're not the Nets" is not a good enough excuse. (After Boston, the Atlantic Division standings are a crime against humanity.)

Toronto currently finds itself in the throes of an absolute coaching nightmare. Triano is in completely over his head, and is being called out by his players. Ron Wilson, much like his team shorthanded, is useless. And Cito Gaston ... Cito simply needs to sail into the senior advisor sunset.

Lamentation

I've had 40-odd hours to mourn. I'm ready to talk about it. The loud music you heard Saturday night? Yep, party at Richard Griffin's house.

J.P. Ricciardi had to go. It was clear he'd run his course in Toronto. But not without one final public relations nightmare to pave his exit. According to Dave Perkins at The Star, the infamous Paul Beeston, he of "the plan," went to the moguls of the Rogers empire during the middle of last week seeking "the okay to fire Ricciardi." Clearly the interim president wanted to send a message to Jays fans that, you know, he's actually doing something.

Before he could, the Beest had to help put out the fire that was CitoCity (TM Ghostrunner on First) burning. And after an apparent "mutiny" in the clubhouse, I believe Cito Gaston will once again be an ex-Blue Jay manager. Which means he will have to retire from baseball. Because if the past is any indication, he might be out of a job for a while.

It's been a helluva second go-round with Cito. In 2008 he came and saved the day, yet only 14 months later it seems just about everyone - fans, players, fellow coaches - is sick of him. I hope he'll one day pen a memoir, aptly titled "The Cito Effect," so I can learn what Jeremy Accardo did to him, the logic behind playing Kevin Millar, and why he hates Randy Ruiz.

Anyway, J.P. I've said my piece about him. Many times. And people noticed. I've also made peace with his departure. It was inevitable. Ricciardi said it: "... it just wasn't quite enough." And he's right. Under Ricciardi's name, the Blue Jays finished in second spot in the AL East only once. In eight years, the team never finished a season within single digits of the division winner; 10 games was the closest they got, back in 2006. J.P. isn't a robot from the future, sent back in time to destroy the Toronto Blue Jays, as some in this crazy city will have you believe. But it's time for a change. (So, this is what it feels like to be a Republican.)

It hurts because I believe J.P. leaves Toronto a jaded man. A jaded general manager, at least. He believed he could succeed. He believed in what he'd learned in Oakland. He believed in Moneyball. He then believed in money, period. He believed he was the man able to scale Mount AL East. I did too. But he failed.

By all accounts, Ricciardi was as passionate as they come. He wanted badly to win, and he leaves Toronto with Roy Halladay giving him the respect he deserves. I'll miss his love for the game. I'll miss his feud with the media. Even his Boston accent. Most of all, I'll miss him referring to guys as "the player."

Ricciardi's legacy will live on. Unfairly, it is tied to Vernon Wells, and the anchor that is his contract. But on the other side are Adam Lind, Aaron Hill, Ricky Romero, Travis Snider, Brett Cecil, Mark Rzepczynski, Shaun Marcum, Jesse Litsch, J.P. Arincibia, Jake Marisnick, and more. J.P. has left his mark on this team. For the better.

That's not to say his replacement, Alex Anthopoulos, doesn't have his work cut out for him. He does. But Anthopoulos doesn't have to tear down the foundation, like Ricciardi did. What he needs is direction from ownership, and long-term vision, something sorely lacking around these parts of late. I'm not worried, though, because Anthopoulos is CANADIAN, which can only mean that he will undoubtedly be the best general manager in the history of all baseball general managers.

In a sick and twisted way, for all the hate leveled at Ricciardi over the past couple of years, I want Anthopoulos to fail. Because it became far too easy in this town for people to point the finger at Ricciardi for all that is wrong with the Toronto Blue Jays. It isn't, and never was, that simple.

In all seriousness, Anthopoulos's story is, straight up, an inspiring one. At 23, an unpaid intern with the Montreal Expos. At 32, general manager of the Toronto Blue Jays. Here's hoping he can apply some of his life's trajectory onto the Blue Jays.

The winds of change are upon us. We wait for the next domino to fall.

So long, J.P. Ricciardi. It was a pleasure. You did good.

"Don't even look. It's Gone."

Win #66, in game #145, might have been the best one yet. Think about it. A Roy Halladay victory in New York. Five home runs, two by Travis Snider. Adam Lind officially joining the 30 HR/100 RsBI club. And, best of all: donneybrook!1

I could go on: Brett Cecil's body shot; Cito Gaston, ready to throw down; 5-10 John McDonald, all up in this bitch like he's 6-4; the priceless look on Ricky Romero's face.

For one night, the Toronto Blue Jays were again fun to watch. Ridiculous as it may sound, I love a good brawl on the diamond. I needed yesterday to happen. I'd been waiting for it.

By the time the dust settled in the 8th inning, I'd forgiven Jesse Carlson for his subpar 2009. For once, a Toronto Blue Jays pitcher stood up for his hitters. And it was beautiful. It's one thing for Randy Ruiz to get hit, in the face no less, by a Josh Towers whatever-he-throws. It's another for Edwin Encarnacion to get plunked. But no team, especially not our AL East rival, puts a ball to the back of Lighthouse Hill without retribution. For far too long had the Jays been pushed around without shoving back. And let no one tell you otherwise; it's always more fun to push back against the Yankees.

Somebody, please, a contract for Rod Barajas; .273 OBP and all.

In the end, yes, we're all glad no one was seriously hurt. More importantly, all of Toronto is hoping Jorge Posada's feelings aren't damaged beyond repair. A ball being thrown behind him; imagine! Poor baby. Rod Black's most epic call of the season - "Don't even look. It's gone." - rings true not only to the absolute bomb Snider hit to right field last night, but also to the respect I once had for Jorge.

And, yes, I will continue to believe that Johnny Mac's left to the side of Joe Girardi's head was no accident. It makes the tale that much better.

"It's a beautiful thing. Especially since Carlson didn't leave the dugout when he was ejected. Showing off the welt on his head in great pride, while Jorge was in the back crying and shaking uncontrollably. I would have liked to see Wells run up on A-riod [sic] with a bat and just crack him in the back of the knee. Two problems solved, no more A-roid, and no more Wells. There's always tomorrow...."

- AE, commenter at Drunk Jays Fans

UPDATE: The lovely and talented Joanna from Hum and Chuck has video up of the fight. Go and relive it. In all its glory.

The Blame Game

Cito Gaston apparently "managed" during yesterday's ball game. Since it was a matinee affair, I cannot confirm it actually happened. It's one of life's mysteries: if The Cito manages, and no one is there to see it, did it really happen?

For reasons unbeknownst to me, I still believe in The Cito. The Tao of Stieb doesn't, not anymore. The Ack, he made relevant points in the comments section of The Tao's post: surely I cannot defend some, or many, of Cito's lineup and in-game decisions. Nobody can. The workings of Cito have shaved at least a year off my life.

(It seems Cito can't be trusted in the clubhouse, either. Gaston decided to tell the media that Rod Barajas isn't coming back in 2010. So they could, you know, run over and ask Barajas about it. Gaston's obviously well on his way to graduating from the J.P. Ricciardi School of Media and Public Relations.)

Look, I'm an idiot, but I'm not a complete idiot. The Cito's been brutal, almost all across the board. Lineups, bullpen management, in-game calls, Kevin Millar; you name it. Millar's been a nightmare. I fully well hope and expect to wake up and find out he never happened. Randy Ruiz should be playing. Every single mother fucking day. There's no way anyone in the entire Blue Jays organization can justify why Ruiz didn't play - not one at-bat - in a doubleheader against Texas on September 1st. There is no rhyme or reason. If there's any truth to the rumours that Travis Snider's stubbornness is clashing with The Cito's stubbornness ... may the good Lord help us all.

Did I mention Kevin Millar?

But, wait. Cito's faults are all exacerbated, greatly, by the losing. Let's face it: the 2009 Blue Jays are simply not very good. At all. And I don't believe Cito is what ails this team. Put another manager in the dugout, even John Gibbons, and this team still isn't competitive. There simply isn't anything Cito can do to make the boys come up big in the clutch.

The Ack and the Tao are right: everyone's got a hand the clusterfuck that is our Toronto Blue Jays. The Cito, Ricciardi, Paul Beeston, and the cats above Beeston. Everyone. The Tao put it most eloquently:

"Rogers is a piss-poor steward of the Jays. They should be ashamed of the mess they've made of this team."

If Beeston doesn't want to stick around, he needs to wrap up the Penske File, and hire a new God damn president. Otherwise end the charade, and take on the job for a few years. Everyone is sick to death of the lack of communication from management and ownership. I can't remember a time when the team's overall relationship with the media and fans was so poor. The faithful needs to be shown some progress - hell, some movement - right now and, other than Aaron Hill and Adam Lind, the on-field pickings are dire.

It's ironic that while I've spent most of this season defending Toronto's "idiot general manager," he's going through one of his worst seasons. I feel like George W. Bush's campaign manager. With the incredible amount of question marks moving forward, we might very well be at one of the all-time low points in the history of this franchise. (But let's please refrain from anymore comparisons to les Expos; they are more than premature; they're silly.)

While I'm not sure how the situation is going to improve, I'm able to find some solace in the fact that it can't possibly get much worse. (Actually, we could be Baltimore Orioles fans...)

I believe in Paul Beeston. I've got no other choice.

Hating the National League

Don't you just love it when a pitcher - I don't know, say Ricky Romero, or Scott Downs - who has no business hitting, and who probably doesn't want to hit, has to bat? Me too. It's so much fun; so exciting.

I love how National League enthusiasts continuously defend the asinine decision not to employ a designated hitter with the standard "there's more strategy" rebuttal.

Sure, there's more strategy. I get that. But in most cases, it doesn't take a genius of a manager to throw around the eighth hitter in a lineup to get to the pitcher. Even Buck Martinez can do that.

At the end of the day, pitchers can't hit. Period.

Last night, thanks to bullshit Interleague play, Scott Downs was injured running out a ground ball (x-rays were negative), and Ricky Romero struck out three times, leaving eight men on base.

They're pitchers. They should exclusively pitch, much like in the progressive, forward-thinking American League. Let the hitters hit.

I'm off the National League, huge ...

With the Blue Jays down 3-2 last night, guess who kicked off the 9th inning rally to tie the game? One Vernon Wells, with an infield single to the pitcher. It was his first hit in 21 at-bats. Darrin Fletcher, the greatest colour commentator ever, said it best: that's how all slumps end. Believe ...

If you're pissed off at Alex Rios for his boneheaded baserunning gaffe in the 8th inning, you should be equally pissed off at Nick Leyva. He fucked up, too. While that type of mistake happens in baseball, it seemingly happens too often to Alex Rios. (Richard Griffin is kind of upset about it.) There can't possibly be a better nickname for Rios than The Blissfully Oblivious Gazelle ...

Speaking of nicknames, I think it's official: Jason Frasor is the Sausage King of the bullpen. While I loved some of the suggestions - Bullpen Ninja, Hightower, Fire Hydrant - Sausage King was too good to pass up ...

It wasn't exactly a great performance, and he was bailed out by the aforementioned Sausage King, but B.J. Ryan is now working on six innings of scoreless relief. Believe in The Beej ...

I'd love to know what Cito Gaston said to Ricky Romero in a visit to the mound only three batters into last night's first inning. Whatever it was, it worked. The rendezvous was, my friends, the ultimate example of The Cito Effect ...

Keeping on Romero, he continues to shine. Of the eight American League rookie starting pitchers who've made at least eight starts and thrown at least 50 innings, Rick-Ro leads the way with a 3.73 ERA. His G/F ratio of 1.14 is second to only Baltimore's Brad Bergesen. Boners.

UPDATE: Brad Mills to start for Casey Janssen on Thursday. Serious boners.

Done waiting for Vernon Wells ...

Vernon Wells' .257 batting average is now the lowest among regulars on the Toronto Blue Jays. Ditto his .310 on-base percentage. His .394 slugging percentage is better than only Jose Bautista's, and not by much (.389). Our cleanup hitter hasn't homered since May 6th. May fucking 6th.

I don't even want to talk about his OPS, but I have to. .704? The Vernon Wells Hatred Advisory System is about to break. 

Wells' OPS at the Rogers Centre (Happy Birthday!) is a pathetic .563. He's hitting .172 in the friendly confines of home, with two jacks and nine RsBI. I kid you not: a single, solitary tear fell from my eye while looking at Wells' splits.

Adam Lind, by comparison, is the proud owner of a .967 OPS at the Dome. He's batting .333, with six home runs and 24 RsBI. Lind has, for all intents and purposes, outperformed Wells this season in only 25 home games.

Enough is enough. Cito Gaston has to move Wells out of the four-spot. One can only sit and watch Wells' futile attempt at being a legit cleanup hitter for so long. Of Toronto's 25 remaining games in June, 15 are at home. The Cito knows it has to be done. It's no longer a matter of if, but when.

I've got a lot of time for Vernon Wells. He can play on my team, and patrol center field, any day of the week. But he can't bat fourth. Not anymore.

UPDATE: I forgot to mention it, but it's official: the Jays are Jared Weaver's bitch. 

UPDATE #2: Adam Lind is batting cleanup this afternoon. Wells has a "day off." A real day off. Not one of his regular days off, when he's in the lineup, and does shit all. 

Doc

I paid $8.50 to watch Roy Halladay do what he did last night. I gave so little, and got so much. It was akin to robbery. I now know how Rogers Communications feels when doing business with me.

It was an epic performance from Doc. I've been to five of his six starts, and last night's might have been the best yet; even better than when he laid the smack down on A.J. Burnett and the Yankees. 

What's really left to be said about Halladay? As TD points out over at The 500 Level, since 2002, when Halladay became a premier pitcher in baseball, through twelve starts he's arguably never been as dominant as he's been in 2009. His 82 strikeouts, thanks to a career-high 14 last night, are astounding. The man is aging tremendously.

A couple of folks put it most aptly: 

Baseball Facts - "Roy Halladay can make Tim McCarver shutup."

Ghostrunner on First - "Roy Halladay is not of this earth." 

It's one thing to watch Halladay shut down a lineup with a masterful two-hit, 95-pitch performance. It's another to watch him allow four earned runs in a troublesome seventh inning, and end up throwing a 133-pitch complete game victory.

At the top of both the 8th and 9th innings, I was on the edge of my seat, hoping to see Halladay emerge from the dugout. Each time, he did. No bullpen was going to blow the lead. Thank you, Cito Gaston. 

And make no mistake, The Cito knows: pitch counts mean something only to mere mortals; not Harry Leroy Halladay III. 

In the final two innings, Halladay struck out five Anaheim Angels. The side, in the 9th, to end the game.

If you don't know, now you know: Doc's the best pitcher in baseball.

UPDATE: Check out Pitch F/X goodness from Doc's start over at The Mockingbird. Halladay's 130th pitch of the evening hit 94.7 mph on the radar gun ...

UPDATE #2: Brian Wolfe's on his way to Las Vegas. As the fine bitches at Puck Huffers say: Woo!

UPDATE #3: Doc's start, and finish, last night, did not qualify as a "quality start." Needless to say, the quality start statistic is now dead to me. I will never reference it again.

Quickly

The Summer of Tallet rolls on. His performance today might have been his best yet, considering how he fared in innings one and two.

Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Tallet, who has allowed three runs or less in his last six starts. What a rudey.

And give it up for J.P. Riccardi, who traded Bubbie Buzachero to get him ...

Want to know one of the many reasons why I love Cito Gaston? For allowing Tallet to finish the seventh inning, elevated pitch count, and the go-ahead runner on second base, be damned. The lanky left-hander shut down the Red Sox and deserved the win. Cito and the offence made sure he got it. Nails ...

Speaking of nails, how about Brandon League? Check out some Pitch F/X goodness courtesy of Ghostrunner on First ...

Speaking of LtB, it's easy to see why he's got a man-crush for Rocco Baldelli. He homered and gave his all to chase down a fly ball in foul territory. Even with his injury-riddled history, Rocco's playing for today, and I have to respect that ...

Four-for-four, with two runs and two RsBI. HOLA ALEX! ...

It's fitting that RR Cool J will have the opportunity to provide the knockout punch in the series finale. Brooms out, yo ...

Playoffs!!1

You Are Appreciated

Mission: Doc, to watch every start Harry Leroy Halladay III makes at the Rogers Centre this season, continued last night. I'm three for three, my friends.

After giving up an un-Halladay like six hits and two earned runs over his first four innings, Harry settled down. Like I knew he would.

With the 8-4 win, the Toronto Blue Jays are back in first place, where they belong, and Halladay improved his record to 5-1. With an offence that continues to pound the baseball (I know, not so difficult against the mighty Baltimore Orioles pitching staff), Doc's piling up the wins. So far this young season, the bats are making up for all the times Halladay pitched well in years prior, and didn't get any run support. It's a beautiful thing.

You know, I hate talking and writing about Halladay's future. Will he be traded? Will he leave in search of a ring, or even just a playoff appearance? Who knows. I don't have the answers, that's for sure. But I'm taking nothing for granted. No matter what happens, Mission: Doc means I'll have no regrets; it means I'll never wish I had made more of an effort to head down to the Rogers Centre and watch Doc do his thing.

Roy Halladay, you are appreciated.

The Cito Effect

In the 8th inning, with Scott Downs warm in the bullpen, and men on first and third with two down in a 6-4 ball game, out stepped Cito Gaston from the Blue Jays dugout. 

We, Jays fans, rose to our feet as well. It was the end of the line for Roy Halladay and, as always, he was deserving of a farewell worthy of his effort.

Only Doc didn't get the hook.

The Gastonian one reached the mound and instead of taking the ball from Halladay, who'd thrown more than 110 pitches, told him he'd see Doc in the dugout after he retired Ty Wigginton.

Doc, never one to let his manager down, did just that.

Amazing. Ladies and gentlemen, The Cito Effect.

Fret not, The Blue Jay Hunter and I are working on the t-shirts.

Foul Ball Fail

Sitting about 20 odd rows up on the first base side in shallow right field, an Oriole hit one right at me. I was ready. I'd been waiting for this moment my entire life. Only the ball smashed off the ring finger of my right hand, leaving it swollen, bruised, and my nail half black.

Fail. Shame. Bewilderment.

All those years of playing cricket, for what? The ball landed a row in front of me, and into the hands of another. I still can't believe I didn't come up with it.

And, for the record, had I made the catch, I would have given the ball to the young boy behind me.

Blue Jays Fever

On the way home from the game, an old man on the subway tapped me on the shoulder, wanting to know if the Jays were victorious. I was in my powder blue jersey, and more than happy to oblige.

Indeed they did, Grandpa.

He smiled, and then asked if Halladay went the distance. A wise old man, clearly.

I told him Doc went eight, and that Scott Downs finished off Baltimore.

He smiled, again, and thanked me.

I told him it was my pleasure, and that the Jays were winning the pennant.

A quote from Michael Barrett ...

"I love playing for Cito."

You and everyone else, Michael. You and everyone else.

And, for the record, I quite enjoy Darrin Fletcher's colour commentary. He's good people.

Pennant. The Toronto Blue Jays are, in all likelihood, winning it.

UPDATE: It really is the Summer of Tallet.

UPDATE #2: The Toronto Blue Jays. DO YOU BELIEVE? (Say it like the annoying Olympics commercial.)

UPDATE #3: Fourteen runs; 21 hits; a 13-5 record. Pinch me.

Beer and the Blue Jays

Ricky Romero's been placed on the disabled list. Have a beer. To drown your sorrows.

B.J. Ryan joined him. Have a beer. In celebration.

Richard Griffin wrote an interesting and provocative blog post. Have a few. It may never happen again.

We, loyal fans, will only be able to watch an upcoming Blue Jays/Red Sox series on TSN2, which nobody has access to. Drink up. Get mad.

Scott Richmond once again performed yeoman's work on the mound. Six innings, six hits, two earned runs (albeit both on solo home runs), and eight strikeouts. What more can one possibly ask of a fifth starter? Cheers, Scott. With a Canadian lager, of course.

Three more home runs last night. Twenty-eight on the season; the second-highest total in baseball. Chicks dig the long ball. And so do I. Get drunk on that one. 

Scott Downs picked up his first save of 2009. I admit, I was loathe to have him move out of his set-up role. Why mess with a good thing? But he got the job done. Raise your glass in honour of the Jays' new closer. With the game on the line there's no one I trust more with the ball than Snakeface.

In spite of all the second-guessing of The Cito, and in spite of all the injuries, the Jays are still in first place; are still playing .700 baseball. Forget the beer. Believe that the Jays are going to win the pennant.