Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Liberation Frequency

I've been wrestling with my feelings all day. Cito & JP are already talking about next year. The trade rumours swirl. Dustin McGowan and Shaun Marcum are on the DL. The team is still in last place, despite showing signs of life last night. Me? I still think baseball is pretty fucking great.

I mentioned liberated fandom in one of the the first ever Ghostrunner on First posts. I still feel now as I felt then. I'm not going to shout "wait til next year!" now or ever. But following the team every day, faced with a sudden lack of distance from the team and its travails has me thinking differently. Admittedly, the last two weeks in Bluejayland have been difficult to write about. The Jays fortunes and real life distractions collided at speed, resulting in the slowest GROF week yet.

I surely get caught up in the W's and L's, the slumps and the roster movement. My self-appointed role of Elitist Fuck allows me to think that I'm above all that; the riff-raff that spill their frustrations all over Wilner's lap. But I'm no different. I regurgitate the lines of true baseballmen, of the season being long and 70 games a lifetime. Players underperform, balls bounce, umpires squeeze.

One thing that will not happen, no matter how many games the Toronto Blue Jays lose, I will not cease to be entertained. My aping of the Free Darko ethos is all over this site, from the Scott Rolen defense love to worshiping a oft-injured outfielder from a division rival. I will continue to watch Adam Lind evolve and excite, I will watch hoping for a glimpse at John MacDonald donning his cap and turning into Johnny Mac. I will watch Brandon League throw gas without too much thought as to where it's going. I will pontificate about batting orders. I will dick joke at the expense of management. I will sign petitions to get Ichiro into the Home Run Derby. I will steal expensive seats on a Friday night and boo those who start the wave.

I will not, in any way, advocate trading Roy Halladay. No matter what type of haul he would yield. No amount of wins, parades or Meaningful Games in September will replace the joy and pleasure of watching him work every fifth day.

1 comment:

Send forth the witticisms from on high