The 2009 Mancrush Allstars

Off-day following an interleague sweep? What better time to distract myself from the Jays onfield struggles with my annual team of mancrushes and guilty pleasures. Take a look at last year's team to learn who lost that loving feeling, or if you'd prefer a macroscopic look at my ambiguous sexuality. I use my own arbitrary selection process when choosing the Mancrush Allstars, their ability to "move the needle" is pretty important. As always: were this team ever to take the field it would unequivocally go 162-0. 162 and OH people.

Catcher: Russell Martin. Though he's struggling this year, Russ Martin stays towards the top half of the middle of my heart. The silent, floating J is a nice if slightly bizarre tribute to his mother. Keeps it real in Montreal, regularly steals bases which--much to my delight--flies freely in the face of conventional wisdom. Bonus points for making 8 starts at third base last year.

First Base: Last year Albert Pujols took first base by default. While he's not a traditional mancrush candidate, his overwhelming brilliance destroys Lyle Overbay's vanilla persona, sadly hidden rifle arm, and recent proclivity for rockets to right center field.

Second Base: Aaron Hill. Let there be no doubt. One of only three players to appear in each and every iteration of the Mancrush Allstars, Hill's hot start might not get him on the real All Star team. Here at the Dude Ranch, we've always got love. His defense? Awesome. His line drives? Plentiful. Tater Tots? Endless. Aaron Hill will justify your love over and again.

Shortstop: Hmmm, the toughest choice on the diamond. I can't get behind Scutaro or Johnny Mac, Khalil Green is out with a frontal lobe, JJ Hardy can't hit and The Riot's a ginger. Despite my defensive leanings, I'm going to have to go with Hanley Ramirez. He's insane. Three straight seasons with wOBA's approaching .400? Shut the fuck up. I shudder to think what the Red Sox lineup would look like with him involved. He gets bonus points because of repeated "let's make Hanley a centerfielder" threats. That isn't a transition many people can make: Hanley could.

Third Base: Scott Rolen. The kids call this one a no-brainer. Go here; watch and appreciate. His barehanded grab and laserbeam to first Sunday versus the Marlins was the catalyst for my firing up the mancrush ship. P.S. Could someone tell me who leads ALL OF BASEBALL in line drive percentage? Whether or not you expect it to fall back to his career level, that's a recipe for good times.


Left Field: With Manny on the shelf with debilitating mental anguish, I'm at a loss as to who can fill the left field slot for the Mancrush Allstars. Well shit, I'll just go ahead and insert myself. Anyone to ever visit this site before knows I'm certainly my own biggest fan. And shit, I hit TWO home runs in hipster softball yesterday. TWO! Without a fence. I've got the pins to prove it!

Center Field: Rocco fucking Baldelli. There was ever a question? His comeback from The Itis is the stuff of legend. He's even starting to play well! The diving catch he made against the Yankees last week put me over the moon and Rocco in paroxysms of paralysis.

Right Field: Ichiro. Lest I be thrown off the Internet forever.

Starting Pitcher: Roy Halladay. Shocking, I know. If anything, he's actually improved over the last few years. The consummate pro, the pitcher's pitcher. The tireless philanthropist (with a small p.) The dogged workhorse. The awesomest awesomer to ever awesome. The Blue Jay (when he re-ups and retires a Canadian citizen.)

Closer: Mariano Rivera. Consider this a legacy vote. Just as Mo's worn down the umpire's resolve and ability to discern where the inside black begins and ends, Rivera's unending excellence has dissolved my ability to hate him solely because he's a Yankee. The grim, alien features. The comical association with Metallica. Congratulations Mariano, you've won me over.

Assorted Staff: The anthem will be performed once again by Zooey Deschanel while the Suicide Girls will lead us all through Ok! Blue Jays! The Hold Steady will play Take Me Out to the Ballgame and a team of snipers will scan the building in search of wave-starters. Oh, and the manager:


Heart not head.

Admit it, You're a Little More than Curious

Hey, I remember you. It was more than a year ago that we first spoke. You were going through some things, you weren't quite sure of some strange, new feelings.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but you're don't think so. I was away for so long, my injury so nagging; you didn't think you'd ever look at me the same way ever again. Turn the calender from April to May and the Meter of Appropriateness turns from uncomfortable to litigious. I understand why you might not be thinking straight.

Let's cut the bullshit: I know I'm out there, killing it each and every day. Line drives? Constant. Walks? Sure, whatever. OPS of 1.00 on the number? Gimme a day, I've got to sort some shit out. Home runs? Yeah, I'm leading the team, so the fuck what? Clutch? Wouldn't you like to know.

So yeah dude, I'll keep saying all the right things. "Just trying to help the team win" and shit. But don't kid yourself, I see you out there. Eying the middle of the diamond like never before, getting uncomfortable, chugging the rest of your $10 beer. It's cool man, I've seen way bigger and way harder men fall by the wayside in my day. I'll just keep doing my thing, knowing how much power I have over your life. Don't sweat it brah, I'll keep that shit just between us.

An Ace Unable to Change

The air quality sure is bad here in my mother's basement. Dusty, probably asbestos. Something is definitely effecting my vision. Breathing, too! If you'll excuse me...

Hat tip to Big League Duk and the Rob Iracane

That Ended Poorly

Poorly indeed. One misplaced Brandon League "slider" and the Jays drop two of three at home to the Sox. Scratch that: the eye-high fastball that emergent scumbag Dustin Pedroia coaxed over the left field fence was much more painful and impactful. More painful still was the low-and-away target that Barajas provided, the one Burnett missed by a good three feet. I don't even think eye-high does it justice. I think it was actually inside his eye socket. Either way, this was a hell of a game, one that the Jays will rue dropping for hours to come.

Much has been made (Jerry & Alan went on and on, and Wilner mentioned it also) of AJ Burnett's reluctance to come out of the game. Which is total horseshit. I'm going to be guilty of accusing AJ of something I would laud Halladay for, but freaking out because you're coming out of a tied game doesn't scream "gamer" to me, it screams "I want the W." AJ was bailed out by the Jays offence three starts in a row (before his gem against the Yankees) and today was no different. Burnett "kept his team in the game," but he also "bisected the plate with a fastball that Coco Crisp hit a long way." Would he have kicked up a fuss if he was ahead? What about behind? Having thrown 109 pitches, with the best bullpen in baseball behind him, how could he have felt that it was in the best interests of the team to send him out there for the 8th? It simply wasn't a very professional move. These rhetorical questions belie my continuing belief that AJ Burnett is awesome, but getting pissed off about taking a ND is just bad form.

Who isn't in bad form, you may ask? ROCCO BALDELLI'S FORM IS ANYTHING BUT BAD. Rocco hit his first home run since May 2007 on Friday, then smashed another bomb Sunday. He added a double from the clean-up spot, upping his OPS to .934. He's even looked downright spry on the base paths. Rocco has been serving as the right handed half of a DH platoon, meaning David Purcey is facing certain death, and will have a good seat for Rocco's first home AB since his return.

A comment on the DRaysBay regarding Rocco's contract status got me thinking curious things today. The Rays declined the club option they held for next year, meaning Rocco is an UNRESTRICTED FREE AGENT. Of course I'd like to see Rocco on the Jays, but I also think he'd be a great fit if the Jays don't sign a big bat. He's obviously a vastly superior defender to Adam Lind, and while Lind is well beyond needing insurance, they could split time at DH/LF with Matt Stairs spelling both men as the part-time DH. A one year deal for Rocco to show the league he's healthy and allow Travis Snider a full season at Syracuse for seasoning. Everybody wins! Of course, I am pretty confident that Rocco will give the Rays a discount for standing by him and supporting him through his odyssey. But then again, he's a baseball player! They don't give a shit about that!

Battle of the Mancrush All Stars

With the Jays enjoying a well-deserved day off after an excellent month of May, it is time for my annual All-Mancrush Team. We've reached a point of the season where I can really see what guys are made of, and if they are made of Grade A baseball playing manbeef, than I'll single them out for manlove. Some upheaval in this year's squad, but were they ever to take the field, they would unequivocally go 162-0.

Catcher - Russell Martin. Is there such a thing as a five tool catcher? His power numbers are a little down this year, but he's been getting on base and being awesome at an unprecedented rate. I understand he's Brazilian. That is unusual for a baseball player.

First Base - I'll stand by my assessment that first base is for people that can't really run or throw. I can't really say that I have a mancrush on any first basemen, so it will have to be Pujols by default. I look forward to he and Brad Lidge's turns in Ace Ventura III - Jim Carrey Needs a Job.

Second Base - Aaron Hill. I'm just going to put it out there Aaron Hill: many slumps have been busted over Sneaky Dee's nachos during the wee small hours of the night. Given the way you've been swinging the bat, it couldn't hurt. The walk of shame from the plate to the dugout is more laden with despair and self-hate than home from the dorm of a battered and chapped co-ed.

Shortstop - Hanley Ramirez Johnny fucking Mac. Homerism trumps win shares. The Johnny Mac love is well-established in these parts, no need to embellish. The man, the myth, the manlove.

Third Base - Scott Rolen. I didn't briefly change the name of this flea circus to Rolenrunner on First by accident. The best third basemen I've ever seen. Period. That is all. That is an almost all Blue Jay infield. And why? Fuck everyone else, that's why.


Left Field - Manny Ramirez. A surprise addition, even to me. I ordinarily hold out for defensive stalwarts, but Manny's won me over with his antic-based attack. I'm a sucker for it. He also happens to be one of the best right-handed hitters of his generation. Wacky, too!

Center Field - Ichiro. The most famous singles hitter not named Gwynn. The best outfielder not named Devon. A super-stylish quote machine. He almost missed out this year, but had I left him off, I wouldn't have slept. My Ichiro sheets only would have caused me more insomnia.

Right Field - Rick Ankiel. The thought of Dustin McGowan suddenly solidifying the Jays lineup as a power hitting corner outfielder (turned centerfielder!) is so preposterous that I can do nothing but laugh. Adding some PCP to that insanity is the fact that Rick Ankiel was a better pitching prospect. I am ready to heap praise upon The Natural in way that would make Will Leitch blush.

Starting Pitcher - Roy Halladay. There was never any doubt. The fact that he'd hate being on a mancrush team and would likely beat my ass is certainly the reason he's on in the first place.

Relief Pitcher - Brandon League. I decided to be a contrarian scumbag and not pick a closer. BJ Ryan makes me slightly uneasy anyway. Brandon League gets by on potential alone, and being goofy enough to be endearing. I've fallen under the same spell as numerous scouts before, and will bet heavily that he "figures it out."

Disabled List - Rocco Baldelli. Manny better not get to comfortable, because once Rocco rises again, Manny well be stuck in his mansion with his millions of dollars, his 500 home runs and his deeply discounted grills. Rocco will ride again, and my boner will soar like eagle.

That is it. Don't worry Frenchy, I'm sure you'll bounce back. Stop being so damn patient at the plate. I'll also add that I would invite Zooey Deschanel to sing the anthems, and do other stuff that re-asserts my straightness. 162-0 people, 162-0.

Blue Jays Offence Hijacked, Somali Pirates Suspected

DISNEYFUCKINGLAND - The Toronto Blue Jays continued their mediocre run of play with a 6 -4 defeat at the hands of Eric Hinske and the Mouseketeers. The Jays scored 4 runs (two unearned) with a Vernon Wells home run the only highlight. In a desperate attempt to "manufacture" some scoring opportunities, Shannon Stewart and his .600 OPS were slotted into the number six spot. Designated hitter and proud owner of one extra base hit this season Matt Stairs brought his Punch and Judy approach to the third spot in the lineup. Curiously, team OPS leader and two-time all star Alex Rios was found sweeping sunflower seeds in the dugout rather than playing.

The only rational reason for this anemic output by the Blue Jays offence is pirates. Somali pirates. Realizing that the Gulf of Mexico offers far more obese tourists than the Gulf of Aden, the modern-day swashbucklers headed around the horn to Florida. There they found a bounty of wealthy ballplayers with their offensive outputs ripe for the picking.

The Jays organization made a largely ceremonial gesture in recent days, sending Frank Thomas off the plank amidst much fanfare in an attempt to appease the bloodthirsty butchers. The meager output of the Toronto side must be an attempt to keep the pirates at bay, in exchange for the release of their women and children.

Not a single member of the incumbent pirate organization in the Caribbean Sea was available for comment on this invading menace, as reports surfaced indicating the bulk of the group were attending a Bette Midler fanfest in Atlantic City.

Admit it, you're a little curious

It's alright, you don't have to come right out and say it. I know what you're thinking. It's cool, I see it all the time.

I've seen a lot of men really, truly, wondering. Questioning themselves and their intentions. Asking why they're thinking these thoughts, how they could be feeling these emotions. I bet you think that you're losing your mind. "Wait??? What was that tingle?? Did it just move? No fucking way."

I can't really blame you. 4 for 4 with a home run? Playing solid defence? Hitting walk-off jacks on your birthday? STEALING FUCKING HOME? Look how fucking pleased I am right now. I just drank Andy Pettitte's milkshake. In a key situation. Oh yeah. I'm paid too. And I try not to be a dick about it.

I play the game "right" but I've also got skill to back it up, ya know. Don't sweat it dude, I won't tell anyone. I'm flattered, but that isn't how I get down. It was weird at first, seeing grown ass men wearing shirts and jerseys with my name on them. But whatever. I try not to let this stuff go to my head.

But I'm in YOUR head, aren't I? It's funny, isn't it? I'm just a regular dude, one that enjoys playing guitar and turning DP's. I don't think any less of you. Hell, even I was once married to a man.

The Tragic Paisan of Woonsocket

As the discussion following DJF's "battle of the beej" post quickly (and justifiably) turned into a love-in for Tampa Bay's raking and rakish converted centerfielder BJ Upton, my thoughts turned to one man: Rocco Baldelli. My heart breaks with the realization that Rocco has all but lost his job in center field. The move of Upton to center allowed the Rays to trade Delmon Young for pitching help and keep BJ's ridiculous bat in the lineup everyday. As an added bonus they reduce Upton's chances of Knoblauching his way around the infield or Offermanning his way around the bush leagues. The more pressing issue remains: what about the poor man once known as the next Joe Dimaggio?

Rocco's story is littered with bad luck and bad breaks. This cursed bastard first blew out his ACL playing basketball with his brother. Then, while rehabbing his knee, he injured his elbow so severely that TOMMY FUCKING JOHN SURGERY was needed to repair the damage. A 23 year old center fielder needed tendon transfer surgery! Instead of drilling quality moviestar trim, he was having holes drilled into his ulnar bone.

Rocco knew that a life of suburban coffee shops, Honda Civics and calling everyone he meets "guy" wasn't for him, so he bounced back from his ridiculous string of injuries to have an excellent 2006 season. His 90 game run of health showed all of the five-tool abilities that made him a near rookie of the year and top draft pick. Another nagging injury allowed Rocco only 35 games and 137 AB during a disappointing 2006 season and has left him on the outside looking in.

The offseason addition of Cliff Floyd's gossamer tendons & left handed bat combined with the continuing presence Rob Deer 2.0 add up to a logjam at DH/right field/trainer's table in Tampa. The thought of Rocco in powder blue on a Friday night makes me more than giddy, but the Jays need another right handed bat like they need another mildly obese backup catcher. Hopefully he'll find a home in the hinterlands of the National League, preferably somewhere with a natural grass field and national TV deal. Rocco and Frenchy in the same outfield would spell disaster for any runner trying to score on a live ball hit to the outfield, not to mention my heterosexuality.


Ed. Note: Mr. Baldelli was healthy enough in 2006 to play the Jays in Toronto on my birthday. Rocco + Aaron Hill's walkoff homer + numerous tallboys = a great birthday for me.