Wednesday, February 6, 2008

It's getting so very old


A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, athletes didn't take "performance enhancing" drugs. Nope, they relied on pure skill, heart and desire every time they put on the uniform. None of them would have ever considered taking such substances had they existed and been readily available at the time.

It seems to me that it isn't even the records and numbers that are at the forefront here, rather the individual's character. Forget that Barry Bonds would have and still should have a Hall of Fame career. He's a "bad person" for "taking steroids" and lying about it. Forget the fact Roger Clemens was one of the most dominant pitchers of his time. He's a "bad person" for "taking steroids" and lying about it. Roger Clemens isn't a bad person because he took steroids. He's a bad person because he's a pompous dick. This isn't baseball specific, though we'll stick to it for the purpose of this rant. I still fail to fully understand the whole point of this entire congressional endeavour. Are they trying to prove that MLB players were doing something illegal? Because if that is it, every major sport should be under the exact same scrutiny. Which they aren't. Is it because they are trying to point out that MLB didn't have a good enough drug enforcement policy? Why do they care? Why waste all this time and money to "prove" something that was already so very evident? This is a issue well beyond the realm of Major League Baseball and it's getting old and tired.

So Clemens may evidently be "lying" about his past use of steroids, or HGH or whatever the fuck else he may have taken. Who gives a shit? Let's say they do prove he used them. What then? They take away his records and refuse to acknowledge his numbers? Big fucking deal. I'm sure he'll really give a flying fuck as he lounges in his pool at the mansion(s) that baseball built. But at least the public will have the satisfaction of KNOWING he did them. The fact is, we'll never know just how many players were using, we'll only know there were a lot. But you know what, no one cared. People were being entertained, and that is what people want whether you want to believe it or not. In 1998 everyone knew McGwire and Sosa were more than likely on something, but they didn't care, because that shit was entertaining.

I'll tell you this much: I'd sooner cast a Hall of Fame vote for someone who has allegedly taken steroids than a racist bigot or a player who was hopped up on coke all the time (the 1970's and 80's). Better still, how about I cast my vote for players worthy based on their statistical performance within the rules of the game?

Owner's knew players were doing it. So they are liars.
Managers knew players were doing it. So they are liars.
Other players knew about it. What a bunch of liars.
Major League baseball was also aware...liars.
So they're all liars, the whole lot of them. And I still don't care, and neither does anyone else.

I've heard a lot of blame being placed on these professional athletes when it comes to the use of steroids at the amateur level. "They're supposed to be role models." "They're supposed to set a good example for kids." "Kids see the pro's using steroids, and think it's O.K. for them to do it." Bullshit. I've never seen a professional athlete take steroids. I've only been told by some media quack that there is "evidence" player X may be using performance enhancing drugs or has admitted using them. You know how many high school kids are taking steroids? One Gazillion. You know where the pressure comes from leading them to use? Their coaches and their fucking parents. Some of the kids probably get the shit from their own family doctor for christ's sake. This is a much larger issue then Roger fucking Clemens.

Here is a small sample of some of the substances banned by Major League Baseball - Cocaine, LSD, Marijuana, Opiates, MDMA (ecstasy), GHB, PCP, Ephedra, and oh, about 40+ different types of Steroids. Marijuana?? Christ, half the league has and probably still smokes weed. Come the fuck on...

Did they take Darryl Strawberry's MVP awards away because he was a junkie? What about Dwight Gooden? Mickey Mantle probably never played a game sober. Anecdotal evidence suggests every single player was probably using amphetamines during the 60's and 70's. You're probably high right now while reading this.

I'll say this much. If I'd have been playing and taking steroids would have probably gotten me an extra 2-8 million dollars a season, I'd have more than likely done it. You would have too, don't lie. It wasn't against the rules. Would that make me a bad person? Depends on who you ask. Would I be putting my health at risk? Most likely, but it'd be my choice. Would I be richer than you are? Absolutely. Would you harbour feelings of jealousy because of it? Well that shit just answers itself.

Jose Canseco wrote in his book that at one point 85% of MLB players were steroids. (Granted, he's an idiot, so that could be high)
David Wells said during an interview it was as high as 40%.
Ken Caminiti admitted winning the 1996 NL MVP award while on steroids.

They're never going to determine all of them. Why try? It's a waste of their time, my time, your time and isn't going to accomplish dick in the end. Major League Baseball screwed up. That's it. They turned a blind eye and wouldn't admit there was a problem. Going after the players now is pointless, they never broke the rules to begin with.

George Mitchell is a tool.

Feats of Strength

Last season baseball fans were lucky enough to witness a huge number of major individual milestones achieved by a variety of players. 756, 3000, Thome, Glavine. Some of the biggest names reached some of the biggest numbers. Even our own Big Hurt celebrated his 500th laborious trudge around the bases. The prospects for this year...not so much with the glamour. Unless you are excited to celebrate Scott Spiezio's 1000th career hit or Greg Zaun's 200th career double (Double up on your ham and eggs to commemorate this two-bagging milestone! No time for dental floss! More celebreakfast for all!) you'll have to dig a little deeper to find interesting Blue Jay career milestones.

Congratulations will be in order for AJ Burnett as he inevitably passes Mike Hampton for 13th place all-time on the most DL trips list.

Russ Adams is looking to pass Huck Flener for most miles racked up on I95 between Niagara Falls and Syracuse in a "career".

Vernon Wells has the opportunity for two milestones in 2008. His career expletives shouted having just missed a hanger should surpass 1000 this summer and Joe Carter's club record for most times feebly waving at third strike sliders in the dirt should fall.

David Eckstein must be proud to be closing in on Craig Counsell's career marks for smallest hat size and most jerseys stolen from the children's section.

Aaron Hill hopes to build on his strong finish to last season. Seriously, he had TWENTY hits in his last ten games. No joke, he's great.

Many bloggers and columnists are bullish on the starting rotation this year, believing it to be poised for greatness on numerous fronts. Shaun Marcum is clearly threatening Esteban Loiza's consecutive days without a shower record while potential 5th starter Gustavo Chacin is approaching Julian Tavarez's career mark for most Goonies DVD's signed. Staff stalwart Roy Halladay is bearing down on a long established record: Bob Gibson's 3268 iterations of the cut/evil/stink-eye.

Longtime Blue Jay baiter and paragon of virtue Alex Rodriquez, while not a Jay, is also on the cusp of noteworthy accomplishment. If he maintains his current pace he could murder his 500th puppy, shove his 250th old lady in the street, and burn down his fortieth orphanage all in 2008. Time to earn that big extension Alex!

Thanks to The Competitive for the image.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Arbitration is for Suckers

No arbitration hearing for Zhar Ricciardi this year, though even had there been I'm quite sure he would have blown up the room with his thoughts, thus avoiding the hearing(s) all together.

The Jays and All-Star outfielder Alex Rios agreed to terms today on a one year contract that will see him paid US$4.835 million. Rios was the only Jay left in arbitration. I must and am obliged to remind you all that no Jay has gone to salary arbitration since J.P. sauntered into town following the 2001 season. Rios was after $5.65 million in arbitration while the Jays countered with $4.385 million. He earned $2.535 million in 2007.

Broken down he gets a $3.5 million signing bonus and a salary of $1.335 million. Oh yeah, and he gets $15,000 in fun money if (and when) he makes the AL All-Star team. Alex hit .297 last season with 24 HR, 85 RBI's, 17 SB's and 43 2B's.

FACTS YOU NEED TO KNOW

- Rios was born in Coffee, Alabama. Yes, Coffee.
- Rios walking to the plate theme music is "Los Bandoleros" by Don Imar and Tego Calderon.
- Rios has "unlimited potential" and is a "five tool" player
- Chicks are fans
- He is bilingual
- Yes, he has been pied in the face by Vernon Wells during a post game interview

Monday, February 4, 2008

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Leaving a Legacy

On the heels of my love letter to Rocco Baldelli, the universe aligned to prove my love boundless and the stuff of LEGEND. First off, we must refer to the note I added at the end of the Rocco post:
    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.
That particular game featured the entire Ghostrunner team out to celebrate my birthday in the only way I saw fit: sitting directly behind Rocco Baldelli in the centerfield bleachers so that I might profess my love loudly and proudly.

Everything was going well, though Rocco refused to acknowledge my praise. There were detractors in nearby sections who sought to disparage Rocco, insulting him and his basketball-playing tendencies. In addition to praising Rocco's defense (he made a stunning diving catch to rob Greg Zaun of a double) we were loudly inviting him to join us for drinks at Sneaky Dee's after the game. I told him tales of tattooed waitresses and assured him that he'd be "all about it." Despite entertaining my section and shouting myself hoarse; Rocco didn't acknowledge us nor did he watch as I later drank myself into early senescence.

Fast forward to last night. Mrs. Moseby (Mrs Moseby, Architect) and I sat on the northbound Bathurst streetcar when a group of college-aged kids piled on looking a little lost. They immediately sat in the first few rows, with two guys sitting in the single seats on the left and the girls sat in the pairs. They began talking amongst themselves and I went back to ignoring the wife. As we approached College, one of the guys exclaimed "OHMIGOD SNEAKY DEE'S" and began discussing how "he didn't think it was real" and wondered if it was perhaps a franchise. These kids were clearly from out of town, but their enthusiasm for my local quickly got my attention. When one of the guys said he wanted to leap from the train and go inside "just to check it out", I was hooked. Every time I'm even remotely near that faithful corner I feel tempted to exit whatever vehicle I'm in, dash inside, and order enough quality food and drink to kill a horse.

What I heard next floored me. The two guys began to tell the girls about the time they went to a Jay game and "these guys" were heckling the "other teams" centerfielder. "He wasn't really heckling him, they were yelling YO ROCCO! COME TO SNEAKY DEES" one kid explained. I almost had a heart attack. These kids knew Sneaky Dee's as only a punchline, a running joke born at a baseball game a year and a half ago. A game that happened to have a bunch of loudmouths in their section shouting at a player they had probably never heard of, begging him to come to bar to which they'd never been. And here I was, on the streetcar with them as they passed by this place for the first time in their lives.

This, my friends, is fate. Or destiny. Or coincidence. Anyway you look at it, the universe wants me to carry the torch for Rocco, to shout his name from the rooftops. The universe needs me to. Rocco and I have touched many lives, and I will continue to do the lord's work.

Friday, February 1, 2008

The Fifth

Come spring training there should be quite a bit of interest around the pitching mounds down in Dunedin. Soon enough we shall see just who is most worthy of the fifth spot in the Jays starting rotation. I personally believe it's one of the more important issues going into Spring Training. Well, that and how many chicks Dustin McGowan is going to nail. Over/under is somewhere around 35 1/2.

As of now it would appear that Casey Janssen, Jesse Litsch and Gustavo Chacin are the frontrunners but each comes complete with their own questions. Most would agree that Litsch was decent as a rookie in 2007, which doesn't necessarily mean that form will carry forward into 2008 and beyond. Janssen was a staple in the bullpen last year, and the Jays brass still aren't sure if the starting rotation is where he should be. No one knows what to expect from Chacin, as he missed the majority of last season only throwing 27 1/3 innings.

Toronto actually used 11 starters over the course of last season, eventually going with Halladay, Burnett, McGowan, Marcum and Litsch. They combined for a 56-38 record along with a 3.85 ERA during that span. Not to bad for the grown up American League.

John Gibbons indicated he was impressed with Litsch last season and that he believes Jesse has earned a right to claim that spot. Janssen was exceptionally badass coming out of the pen last season posting a 2.35 ERA, 24 holds in 70 appearances. It would seem his future somewhat depends on the progression of closer B.J. Ryan. Chacin has pitched well at the major league level in the past, but for all we know, his arm could fly right off in the middle of a game. Or he could lose those specs he rocks and be unable to pitch at all.

Honestly, I'm inclined to see Janssen stay in the bullpen as he seemed to thrive in that spot last season, and the Jays have been crippled by horrible bullpen's in years past. It was nice last season to have a reliable bullpen that could be counted on more often than not. That leaves Litsch and Chacin. Chacin is probably the bigger uncertainty coming off the surgery and Litsch proved capable in his 20 starts last season (7-9 3.81). I'd start the season with him barring something strange or exceptional happening in the spring. One thing I do know is that regardless of who ends up in that 5th spot, the Jays have one of the best rotations in all of baseball.

Maybe one day Ricky Romero will pitch the way that made him a star at CS Fullerton rather than sucking down in New Hampshire.

Thursday, January 31, 2008

The Tragic Paisan of Woonsocket

nevayoumind my injuries
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.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Chronicles of an Off-Season


The day after the World Series I suddenly realized the season was over. My MLB extra innings packages that filled my day with so many big league options was useless and I became somewhat terrified. Outside the wind howled and it seemed to get dark quite a bit earlier than normal. Hell hath no fury like a MLB uber-fan denied his daily dose of Major League action. I found myself pacing back and forth in my Condo struggling to figure out what to do…there were 108 days until pitchers and catchers report…

Day 1

I am still here, but there is nothing on the MLB schedule as far as games are concerned today. I feel like a stranger in my own house. Unsure of how to proceed I take a stock of my supplies. All I seem to have are two PVR recorded Jay games from August, two unwatched Twins games also on PVR and an old copy of Major League on DVD which I fear may be scratched beyond repair. This won’t do me long, it’s time to panic.

Day 2

Using a spoon, 7 toothpicks and some string I construct a device that will allow me to collect rain water out of my second story window. I then realize that drinking water can be obtained without problem during the MLB off-season. I go to my fridge and get a Cran-Apple Iced tea. It is my first victory in these trying times and I rejoice.

Day 9

With no sign of any MLB games in my future I decide to try and read. I get through the first few pages without a problem, but then can’t help wondering if the Mets will again blow what seemed like an insurmountable lead in the NL East in 2008. They deserved so much better. I burn the book to stay warm.

Day 22

I contemplate jumping out of my second story window as my PVR stops working from an electrical problem in my building and I lose the Jay and Twin games I had. With little to sustain me during these trying times, I try and download MLB video on youtube. However, my wireless network goes down and I’m unable to proceed. If this is considered living, I welcome death.

Day 30

I’m informed of what seems like a potential alternative. I’m told that there is another professional sports franchise in Toronto many people enjoy following. They are called the Toronto Maple Leafs and play in the NHL. I triumphantly return home from work one evening excited to watch this new team in action. The first period gets underway and it’s only 3 minutes before I’m moved to tears by the lack of talent and passion they seem to have. I will never watch hockey again.

Day 53

I turn my TV on and attempt to fill the void by playing baseball on my Playstation. I’m happily pick up the controller and begin my very own season as the Toronto Blue Jays with the World Series in my sights.

Day 55

After 19 games my Blue Jays are 2-17 with little hope of making the playoffs. I don’t have a player hitting over .239 and I accidentally traded Vernon Wells and Roy Halladay to the Red Sox for Eric Hinski and Mike Timlin.

Day 68

This is getting unbearable. I wonder if there are others, struggling as I am with little end to the suffering in sight. I decide to visit Internet blogs to find someone in the same situation as me. On one blog I post, “How is everyone coping with this lact of Major League action?” I quickly see a response of “Who cares you homo.” I retreat to my 2-17 season sadly and allow 7 runs in the first inning in a game against the Devil Rays.

Day 80

I survive now only on baseball statistics related sites. I haven’t been eating much, I shake often but am certain that I can tell you who led the Major league in Home runs in 1986 or who held the all time single season saves record before Bobby Thigpen broke it in 1990.

Day 89

I make an incredibly shocking discovery today. I am not alone! In another room I stumble across a woman who refers to herself as my “girlfriend.” She tells me a harrowing tale, having survived all this time on television programs on a station called MTV and a singing competition where people vote for the winner. I realize there is nothing I can do for her, and slowly leave the room quietly.

Day 92

I decide I can no longer endure this suffering and construct a life-raft from couch cushions and paper plates. I’m fairly certain global warming will soon cause the sea levels to rise and I’ll be able to float away out of my second story window. Man does it feel good to finally have a somewhat sensible plan…


The first pitchers and catchers start reporting in 15 1/2 days...

Doctor, Doctor, Give Me the News

Spring training is groin-grabbingly close, and yet still so far away. And as exciting as it is to watch low-level Sportscentre reporters stand around in bad golf shirts & khakis, I'm going to need something else to tide me over. Luckily, that very thing arrives on Thursday. And the more I think about it, the more I realize just how similar they are.


Stoic leaders of men, they care not for the personal accolades or acclaim, they fight for the greater good. Quiet men, wishing they could avoid the spotlight their abilities will always garner, they lead by example. And when these men lead, the rest will follow. Oh how they follow.


The southern-fried conman, seemingly only out for his own best interests. Though he's been known to step up and be counted, he should not be trusted.


The hairfarming jacks-of-all-trades. Guile and toughness that can not be overstated. And Shawn Marcum TOTALLY tortures people with his dreaded beaded necklaces.


The plucky underdog. Though limited in size and strength, he so badly wants to sit with the grown-ups. His shortcomings are many, but you get the sense he'd lay it all on the line for the cause. Also have affiliations with groups of ambiguous sexual orientation in their pasts.

Roy and Jack, their supporting casts in tow, fight for the same thing. They won't settle for anything short of their ultimate goal, which won't come until the end of the season. So in the meantime, they'll have to settle for the affection of a girl with freckles.