image courtesy of There Will Be Bourbon
There is little doubt in my mind that the Jays sweep in Seattle might have saved the season. Our perspective of the season, that is. If they laid an egg after a three-day gestation period in the Eastern Time Zone, the knives are out to a much greater degree than today.
Let there be no doubt, going down in such a timid manner at the hands of the Mariners is bad news for 2014 chances. But it's hard to maintain radio call-in ire when you're drifting off to sleep during the fifth inning. There's a certain kind of malaise that sets in when the team is reeling and playing late at night here on Earth, the gentle caress of "what great travelling support from West Coast Jays fans!" soothing your troubled soul. A nation united makes for more pleasant dreams than burning angst directed towards Juan Francsico.
Plus, when R.A. Dickey gives up two runs in the first inning, it feels like the game is already over. You're fast asleep before you realize how right you were, blissfully unaware of the five dece innings that followed.
It adds up to a whole lot of air let out of the Jays balloon. The circumstances allow it to leak out slowly and silently, rather than a whoopee cushion effect when they fall flat under the CN Tower's long shadow.