Not Ready for Primetime

A few days ago I was frantically alt-tabbing away from doing research on uhh, science, when I stumbled across something that astounded me. In my haste to unsee what will remain forever etched in my mind (terrible, terrible and offensive science), I somehow accidentally learned of a past transaction of which I had no recollection. In the summer of 2001, the Toronto Blue Jays signed free agent outfielder Deion fucking Sanders to a minor-league contract. He played 25 games for Syracuse before being released one month later to the day.

Long known for suits that could bring a pimp to tears and being one of the best cover corners in NFL history, Deion was also a baseball hobbyist. Not baseball hobbyist in the "I play Strat-o-matic because I'm fat/I go to fantasy camp because I'm rich" sense; but in the "I steal 26 bases and record 14 triples in 97 games because the off season is boring" sense. Many Jays fans will also remember Deion being everywhere in the 1992 World Series, when he hit .533, stole 5 bases and (with an assist to Bob Davidson) deprived Devon White his rightful immortality.

Even though it was a few years too late and a clear sign that Gord Ash was good for nothing, the thought of Deion Sanders as a Blue Jay is an intriguing one. It would have been interesting to see what he could have accomplished had he actually pursued a proper baseball career. He was a phenomenally gifted athlete and among the first (for better or for worse) to establish himself as a brand. This entire turn of events likely registered on my radar in 2001 and I'd simply forgotten, but it made my head spin none the less. That kind of thing happens as one approaches the tender age of 8000.