The Importance of Giving Thanks

Give thanks any way you can. Sometimes you visit a soup kitchen, sometimes you sponsor Roy Halladay's Pitch F/X entries on Brooks Baseball.Net. Nerds need love too. Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

The Downside of Tubed & Cured Meats

As any ball fan knows; throwing down a couple nicely cooked sausages is a great idea. Fun to eat, easy to cook, exciting to garnish.

That said, one must always be wary of sausages (Royal or otherwise) as they generally contain by-products, fillers and all manner of false food items. One cannot gorge himself on sausages lest his afternoon be ruined by nauseau and meat sweats.

MLB.com: NSFW

Really MLB.com? "Scott Rolen has a good day against the Yankees" is your video teaser and you include TWO charge-and-throws and a rope that, in a delightful bit of irony, is a home run in almost every other park in the league? For shame, mlb.com video team. As US Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart famously said:

I can't define pornography, but I know it when I see it.

Those two charge-transition-throw plays were pretty much as good as it gets. Watching as many Mariners games as I did last season, I could have confessed at gun point to believing Adrian Beltre fielded the slow chopper/roller better than Scott Rolen. I've since seen the error of my ways, and I'm a better man for it.

The Antidote

The rare Monday getaway afternoon game did much more than stop the Jays losing skid; it scratched me where I itched. Every nook and cranny of baseball nerd got a good seeing to Monday. Ricky Romero is awesome. Johnny Mac's home run trot going over with grace & dignity unseen since my first confrontation with a front-clasping bra. Brandon League settling down to blow away two hitters worth in upwards of half a billion bucks. It was only one game but damn if games like that make up for a lack of Meaningful Baseball in September. Almost.

Various & Sundry Bonerdom

I don't care how soft their schedule's been; how bad the various pitching staffs they've faced are: the Jays will worsening the fuck out of you and everything you hold dear. Some bullpen hiccups, some luck (some bad but mostly overwhelmingly good), games both given and taken away, it all adds up to an entertaining first week of May. Some thoughts from all over.

Brett Cecil: Heaven Sent

Soooo, Brett Cecil is pretty good, I'd say. Some strangely poor defense behind him and the ridiculous offensive strategy the Indians went with "Hey, let's see what happens if I stick my arm in front of this curveball!" Fuck them. Cecil was much bigger than I expected, wore more jewelery on the mound than Mr. T, and changed speeds better than a drunk through a radar trap. Brooks Baseball's Pitch fx tells us he brings the heat (topped out at 95!) and threw all his pitches for strikes. Very impressive. He wasn't afraid to pitch inside and generally impressed more 10 to 15 times more than I thought he would. I wonder if he's up for the duration? He'll certainly be given a chance to pitch himself out of a job.

One last thing we will note now and forever more: Vegas stats mean less than nothing.

Life Above Replacement

The always excellent Yankees Replacement Level Blog calculated the WAR (wins above replacement) for each team at each position in the American League. Unsurprisingly, the Jays are at or above replacement level at every single position around the diamond. Somewhat surprisingly, thanks to poor defense (!?), the Jays outfield has barely played above replacement level. The amazing infield play is manifested in a first place ranking for shortstops, third place for third basemen (fuck you, haters), surprising seventh for second basemen (negative defense, what gives?) and second place WAR for first basemen. Really interesting stuff, I highly recommend clicking on through.

More Crap

• Make sure you check out Walkoff Walk every day, I'm posting regularly through the week for while. There is inevitably Jays content shoehorned into every post.
  
• Adam Lind ranks third in pitches/plate appearance in all of baseball. Guess what, he's awesome.
  
• Jays are on the West Coast which means I'll finally be able to liveblog a Jays game on the Score! Check it out tonight at 10pm! PS Follow me on Twitter.
  
• Lots of "is Toronto for real" stuff floating around. The strength of schedule? The strength of my boner will tell you all you need to know.

A Day in the Life Existence of Roy Halladay

It is widely acknowledged that Roy Halladay is equal parts man, animal, and machine. His ravenous appetite for the flesh of opponents is offset by his laser-like execution of a precise, predetermined strategy and his unfailing humility. Basically, he's all things to all men. We here at Ghostrunner on First have taken advantage of our deep pool of resources to gain access to The Doc's inner sanctum. From inside his fortress of solitude, we offer a look at Roy Halladay's daily agenda.

5:41 AM: Wake before sunrise. Another day; another victory. You'll never best me, Earth's yellow sun.

5:45 AM: Begin first set of daily calisthenics. Strap on aerobic truck tire and attach 14 pounds of raw, bloodied steak to said truck tire. Release hounds. Run. Collect and kennel starving, exhausted dogs.

6:30 AM: Breakfast. Observe 100km rule by consuming 6 organic, free-range eggs with 8 pieces of locally grown brown toast. For protein, two locally raised (but not from a mill) puppies.

7:00 AM: Begin daily staredown in the mirror. Turn grimace to stun.

9:00 AM: Realize the only man strong enough to survive the glare of Roy Halladay is Roy Halladay.

9:15 AM: Climb into flex fuel vehicle with wife, make pleasant small talk en route to children's hospital. Improve outlook for dozens of children. Smile despite facial muscles lack of familiarity with positions.

11:00 AM: Leave children's hospital for silent drive home, allowing anger to build that I can't do more for those that truly deserve it.

11:15 AM: Begin daily pitching workout. Channel unspeakable anger at inability to heal the world's ills into endless barrage of cutters on black. Use RISK map as target, decimate Kamchatka once again.

12:00 PM: Lunch on patio with family. Impress upon children the value of satisfaction in life's work, whatever it may be. Casually scan 2008 draft class scouting report, begin developing pitching plan for each hitter.

12:30 PM: Anaerobic workout. Ride unicycle to local Habitat for Humanity build. Deadlift cracked bathtubs and broken patio stones into garbage bins. Volunteer to do all roofing because everyone fucking hates roofing. Pedal unicycle home with hands.

2:30 PM: Shower in re-purposed rainwater using phosphate-free soaps. Buy carbon credits online just to be safe.

3:00 PM: Watch game film of every loss since 2003. Make charitable donation in name of every fielder who commits an error. Leave another message on Arnsberg's machine. Silently brood.

5:00 PM: Evening workout. Fueled by memories missed locations, do 20 seconds of flexed arm hang for every curveball hung in 2006.

6:00 PM: Quiet dinner with agent, manager, accountant and JP. Demand each man eat in silence to reflect the quiet dignity and professionalism of the host.

7:30 PM: Shoo oily skinned sycophants from my home, retire to quiet evening fishing with family in boat powered by suppressed curse words.

9:30 PM: Sleep soundly on Egyptian cotton sheets and pillows stuffed with hope. Dream of a day when I finally get it right.

Top image courtesy of Bastian, who I think borrowed it anyway

Freedom Isn't Free

If you're ever unsure of the working definition of "jingoism", I encourage you to do a Google Image search of Freedom Isn't Free. Anyway, enough digression.

Real non-news! Rocco Baldelli is one of 50-odd players to file for free agency mere hours after the completion of the World Series. Hooray! He's on the open market!

Hardly.

Though the Rays declined the 2009 option on Rocco's deal, both the team and the Rocc are eager to sign a new deal. Rocco's situation is unlike most free agents because of his questionable health status, as the Rays' MLB.com guy points out:

Despite Baldelli's ability to play well when he is in the lineup, the fact he must still deal with the effects of his malady makes his a unique situation. The Rays, and other teams who might be considering making a bid at Baldelli, must decide how much value they can give to a player they can't count on to play every day.

Both the team and Rocco himself are saying All the Right Things, with Rocco acknowledging the team made a logical business decision (to decline his option) while still treating him with dignity and supporting him throughout his comeback.

Rays GM Andrew Friedman has admitted publicly to a strong personal relationship with Rocco, something that surely won't cloud his brain when he seeks a hometown discount. There has been some talk of offering Rocco a minor-league deal, giving the chance to win a job and a heavily incentive-based contract. As Adam Loewen showed the good people of Baltimore, sometimes players hear whispers. The Boston Globe's Nick Cafardo already suggested Rocco as an ideal fourth outfielder for the Red Sox, another type of homecoming for Rocco. The kind that makes skin crawl in both Toronto and St Pete.

I'm on the record (over and over) stating that Rocco the Blue Jay makes sense to more than just my latent homosexuality. If the Jays don't pick up a DH-styled slugger (Hank Blalock? Billy Butler? Please let it be Billy Butler), meaning Snider and Lind are to break camp splitting time between LF and DH, Rocco would be an IDEAL fourth outfielder. Thanks in no small part to Overmanagin Joe Maddon, Rocco's role this season wasn't true platoon but he was certainly more involved than Mencherson late in the season.

Despite Tinkerin' Joe Maddon consistently defensively replacing him late in games, Rocco's an outstanding defensive outfielder with a strong arm that could serve as something of a (gasp) Reed Johnson-type in the Jays outfield. He could mentor both conscientious defensive objector Adam Lind and inexperienced route-taker and noted burlyman Travis Snider. The Dome would keep him from stiffening up in the cold weather of the spring and fall, his reasonably even split stats would allow him to step in against tough lefties and spell Vernon Wells when he gets his inevitable case of the ouchies.

This probably won't happen, for several reasons. Rocco will re-sign in Tampa being the most prominent. The Jays obviously aren't too concerned wit the bench production in their outfield and loading up for 2009 is a very limited possibility. But a guy can dream.

Hey Travis, Have You Met My Sister?

So Mr. Snider, how are you adjusting to life in Toronto? On the field it looks like you are adjusting pretty fucking well, but it's tough to move to a new city alone at such a young age. Good thing there are lots of other kids your age consenting adults in the same boat. Well not really the same boat, as you make $400 000 dollars a year to play baseball while most of them beg for $4500 bucks from OSAP. But still, you have the same opportunity that they do: destroying tonnes of strange ass. Let me tell you Sniderman, it isn't all it's cracked up to be. What you need is a steady influence in your life. Like my sister.

Sure, she's older than you, shrill, and opinionated. Yes, she is a cat person, why do you ask? Seriously though, she'd be perfect for you. She just moved out of our parent's house at the age of 27, so desperation is setting in. She'll do anything, AN-EE-THING. If she gets drunk at a family function, she'll end up telling you all about it. While that may have been horrifying and permanently scarring for me, it's different for you because you aren't related to her. The girls I've known are surely somebody's sister? Right?

Anyway Travis, I think you should really consider taking her out and consider joining the Moseby clan. For your sake, not mine. I'm not interested in financial gain or the opportunity to make inappropriate suggestions to you when my sister (your wife) is passed out at the annual Moseby family weenie roast. I'm just looking out for you. Plus, she looks just like me, so you know she's a stunner!

Somebody Get Me a Paper Bag

Not Pictured: My Throbbing Boner.

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.

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.