Reflection Eternal

I didn't get any autographs. The lines were slightly longer than I had anticipated. I drank beer at St. Louis instead; that's where I learned that Alex Rios had been put on waivers. Shocked and chagrined, I tried to confirm the validity of the text message I'd received (thanks, Kiener). I learned a valuable lesson Friday evening: I need a BlackBerry data plan. Because I don't pay Rogers enough already.

My favourite part of Friday night's mostly underwhelming pre-game ceremony was when all the guys gathered in front of the mound, around The Cito, pictured above, for an orgy of back-to-back World Series championships love. A special manager, and his two special teams. Definitely worthy of some group hug action.

Seventeen years later, Dave Winfield still wants noise. Once again, we were more than happy to oblige.

No matter how many times the Toronto Blue Jays finish in fourth place, nobody can ever take 1992 and 1993 away from us ...

Back-to-Back.

As for our beloved Rios, it's a non-story, really. Alex said it best: "Who gives a fuck?!?!1" Sure, I kind of lost my shit when I heard the breaking news, but apparently everyone and their mother goes on waivers. The 90 percent of baseball execs who think the Jays should dump Rios? Forget about 'em.

You don't dump an asset when it's trading at its lowest. (What is this, the Toronto Maple Leafs?) Fuck cutting your losses; I'm going down with the ship.

We'd all love for Rios to perform at a higher level, to justify the $60 million that remains on his contract. Out of all American League right fielders who've played more than 100 games, Rios's .742 OPS ranks second-last. Believe me, nobody wants that number to be higher than I do. But it isn't all bad: among AL RFs Rios ranks fifth in hits, with 113, fourth in doubles, with 25, second in the base thievery category, with 19, and fifth in RsBI, with 62. Make no mistake about it: Alex Rios is the most clutch hitter the Toronto Blue Jays employ. His .283 AVG with runners in scoring position, and .346 AVG with runners in scoring position with two outs, might have something to do with that.

It's one thing to dump an underperforming asset to get out from underneath a brutal contract (see Wells, Vernon). It's another to trade an asset and get something of value in return. Don't listen to the fearmongers; Rios' contract isn't that bad.

I don't think there's ever been a better time to say it: I believe in Alex Rios.

Heroes

Joe Carter rightfully deserves the title of "World Series Hero." But there is no bigger home run in the history of the Toronto Blue Jays than Roberto Alomar's two-run shot off of Dennis Eckersley on Sunday, October 11, 1992, in the 9th inning of game four of the ALCS.

It was at that moment when the Blue Jays shed the label of chokers and, finally, became the best team in baseball.

Robbie took home the ALCS MVP trophy, and rightfully so. His numbers from the six-game series were outstanding:

26 at-bats, 4 runs, 11 hits, 1 double, 2 home runs, 4 RsBI, 5 stolen bases, 2 walks, 1 strikeout, a .423 batting average, .464 on-base percentage, .692 slugging percentage, and a 1.157 OPS.

Speaking of heroes, the one, the only, Paul Molitor. Check out his numbers from the six-game 1993 World Series:

24 at-bats, an astounding 10 runs scored, 12 hits, 2 doubles, 2 triples, 2 home runs, 10 RsBI, 1 stolen base, 3 walks, 0 strikeouts, a .500 batting average, .571 on-base percentage, 1.000 slugging percentage, and a mind-blowing 1.571 OPS.

MVP, indeed.

There were others. In his career in the ALCS, spanning three years (1991, 1992, and 1993), Juan Guzman started five games for the Toronto Blue Jays. He won them all, with an ERA of 2.27; 31.2 innings pitched, only 8 earned runs allowed. He walked a ton of guys, 18, but struck out 22.

Who can forget Jimmy Key's performance in 1992? Pitching from the bullpen during the ALCS, he made his final start as a Blue Jay in game four of the World Series, going 7.2 innings, allowing only one run on five hits, while striking out six. Key threw 91 pitches that night, 57 for strikes. Roy Halladay would have been proud.

It wasn't the last we'd see of Key. He came out of pen in game six to throw an inning and a third of one-hit relief; the winning pitcher of the game in which Toronto was crowned World Series champions for the first time ever in life.

There are so many more performances I could single out. Too many.

Tremendous memories. I'll relive them all tonight, in what will be one massive love fest at the SkyDome. I anticipate never hearing the building louder than it will be tonight. Until the Toronto Blue Jays win another World Series ...

Someday it'll all make sense ...

One day, I'll stop bitching about the AL East, and how it is the toughest division in baseball. Not today. But one day.

As my man Dean pointed out in the comments of my last post, with the Tampa Bay DEVIL Rays having won last night, to sweep a mini two-game set with the Boston Red Sox, the AL East is now home to three teams with 60 or more wins. The Yankees check in with 65, the Red Sox 62, and Tampa Bay 60.

Only one other American League team has hit the mark; the Los Angeles Angels (63). In the National League, three teams: the Los Angeles Dodgers (66), Philadelphia Phillies (60), and San Francisco Giants (60).

Three teams in the AL East. Four throughout the rest of Major League Baseball. Life is cruel. And home, the AL East, has been most unkind to Toronto this season, with the Jays having gone 12-24 against divisional opponents. All in all, it's amazing the Jays have won 51 games so far in 2009. (That's my way of saying J.P. Ricciardi has done a stand-up job with a payroll of only $80 million dollars.)

The Ultimate Flashback Friday

For one night, let's forget about this, another, clusterfuck of a season for our Toronto Blue Jays. Tomorrow night at the SkyDome, for no reason at all, because we don't need a reason, let's celebrate the 1992 and 1993 teams that ran the AL East; that did something truly special for the city of Toronto.

I'll be there. In my powder blue. Cheering wildly like I'm 10 and 11 years old again; like I was when Dave Winfield sent the ball down the left field line in 1992; like I was when Joe Carter's ball cleared the fence in 1993. Hell, I think I'm even going to hit up the autograph sessions.

Speaking of memories, I was actually talking to the boys about the '92 World Series, and Ed Sprague's 9th inning pinch-hit home run in game two vs. Atlanta. Looking back, what an absolutely monumental round tripper. The Jays had lost game one of the series, and were down 4-3 in game two, with only three outs to go. Cue the heroics. A walk to Derek Bell, and a bomb to left field by Sprague to silence the deep south. It came off of Braves closer Jeff Reardon who, according to the ever-trustworthy Wikipedia, was then baseball's all-time saves leader; 5-4 Toronto, the World Series tied at one, and heading to Canada for the first time ever in life. Huge.

Unfortunately, I can't embed Sprague's home run here on the blog, but you can watch it here. Take a minute to do so. Trust me, it'll give you goose bumps.

The salad days. Be there tomorrow night to relive them.

Go Jays.

UPDATE: My man Johnny G mentioned the "Trenches" in the comments. I loved that shit. Sprague, Bell, and Turner Ward. Rudeys, all three of them. I did a quick search, and found this gem from the SI vault:

Sprague didn't play much after being called up—he had only 47 at bats—but he and two other Blue Jay reserves, outfielders Turner Ward and Derek Bell, started something called the Trenches, a silly little rally routine that has enlivened the Toronto bench. They lay a towel labeled TRENCHES on the top step of the dugout, near the bat rack. Bell, the loader, pulls out a bat belonging to a Blue Jay teammate who's about to hit. He passes the bat to Sprague, the exchanger. As the batter comes to the plate, the bat is handed to Ward, the shooter, who fires off an imaginary volley at the opposing pitcher. "If we need a big homer, like tonight," Ward said Sunday night, "I turn the bat around and make it a bazooka." The imaginary warfare may seem juvenile, but when one of the soldiers has to come into a game, his place is often taken by Toronto's 41-year-old star, Dave Winfield. "He's our commander in chief," says Sprague. As so often happens in battle, it was the guys in the trenches who won Game 2.

Makes you love Winfield even more, doesn't it?

Trenches!1