All I have to say is this:
If you can't divorce yourself, for one night, from the arbitrary decision to root for a specific baseball team with all your might, I feel genuinely sorry for you.
If you deem it pathetic that baseball fans, watchers, appreciators or notice-ers followed the best pitcher they've ever seen, the best to ever pull on the uniform, I feel sorry you too.
Look, I pretty much assume myself to be too cool for everything, but watching Roy Halladay pitch for the last ten years is not something I toss aside because he changed teams. This isn't Ted fucking Lilly or some other moderately competent pitcher checking into town for a few years and shuffling off. It isn't even Jason Frasor recording the final out for the 2012 World Champion Pittsburgh Pirates.
Roy Halladay is a transcendent pitcher whom we all bragged to American friends about enjoying for so many years. That doesn't just shut off because he switched teams.
Cheering for the Jays as we all do shouldn't preclude us from acknowledging some things as bigger than teams and running deeper than rooting interest. Baseball is fun, and watching Roy Halladay — no-hitter or otherwise — is a shitload of fun. I won't exclude myself from enjoying something truly great and special because his hat is now a different color. And I won't apologize for it either.
Should it have been in Toronto? Should he have stayed a Jay? Who cares. If you think any of these athletes owe you or the teams they play for a single thing, you're wrong. They entertain, we invest. Don't tell me something is bittersweet because it didn't happen in the stadium closest to your house.
