A Love Letter to My Toronto Blue Jays

I am a passionate Toronto Blue Jays fan.

This isn't news to anyone who knows me well. I have been a passionate fan since their inception in 1977. Before they arrived in the American League, my devotion was to the Montreal Expos. They were Canada's team for almost a decade before the Jays threw their first pitch. Baseball is my game. Hockey is a winter diversion, and I very much understand the visceral gut-punches that come with being a Maple Leafs fan, but I am first and foremost a baseball lover. The Toronto Blue Jays are my team.

We are often the poor step-children of Major League Baseball. We are mostly ignored or tolerated by the media and American watchers until something big happens. Big-name free agents rarely choose us as their preferred landing spot, or they use us as leverage to extract more money from the Yankees or Dodgers. (Looking at you, Shohei!) George Springer is an exception, not the rule. Stars mostly show up here at the end of their careers as they are trying to capture one more year of glory. Jose Canseco, Frank Thomas, Dave Parker, and Phil Niekro all spent the end of their careers here. Dave Winfield and Paul Molitor came here to successfully chase their elusive rings. Rickey Henderson, Dave Stewart, and Jack Morris came here to get a final one. Maybe, Max Scherzer will too.

We have been the launching pad for many a Hall of Fame career. Bobby Cox cut his managerial teeth here before decamping to those great Atlanta teams of the '90s. Fred McGriff was an afterthought in a trade with the Yankees, before he was painfully dispatched with fan favourite Tony Fernandez to San Diego for Joe Carter and Roberto Alomar. It worked out well. Roy Halladay won his first Cy Young here before going on to perfection in Philly. 

Roger Clemens came here to reclaim his magic after his skills diminished in Boston. He won two more Cy Young awards, possibly aided by performance-enhancing drugs, before he basically forced his way out and into Yankees pinstripes. He used this team and this franchise like so many others have.

But we fans don't really care all that much if the stars or media love this team. We do, and we have supported them since day one. We are raucous and loud. We proudly wear our fandom on our sleeves, our backs, and our heads. We turn the SkyDome (it will always be the SkyDome) into a sound bomb. We still goofily sing "Ok, Blue Jays" during the seventh-inning stretch because it is uniquely ours. 

We don't care about your baseball lore or traditions. We have our own. Every Blue Jays fan grows up understanding "Touch 'em all, Joe" or the triple play that wasn't. There is a mural of Jose Bautista's bat flip on a wall in downtown Toronto that hasn't been defaced by graffiti or tagging. This is reverence. We feel slighted that Jack Morris is in the Hall but Dave Stieb, who was his statistical equal, isn't. We tell stories about freezing our asses off on the bleachers at the old Exhibition Stadium, and we can still run the bases there as they are memorialized with bronze plaques. We proudly wear the baby blues, and we still have a hate on for the black jerseys. We still idolize The Terminator, Joey Bats, Bringer of Rain,  Edwing, Cito, Gibby, and Superman. They all finished their careers elsewhere, but they are ours, and when they come back, we make sure they feel the love. 

I realize that there are fan bases that have waited longer for a return to the big dance. I feel for my friends in Cleveland and Detroit. The Mariners were going to be my team if they had advanced. But to be a Jays fan is to live with a chronic inferiority complex. When the good stuff finally happens, we can scarcely believe it. Thirty-two years is a long time. Generations of fans have waited a lifetime for this moment, so we are going to be intolerable for the next fortnight, and we are going to enjoy it all. When Vladdy decided to commit to this team and this city back in April, it meant everything to the people of Toronto. He wanted us. He wanted to bring us joy. We will forever show him all of that and more. 

This is a special team. It may not be stacked with all-stars or future Hall of Famers, but it is a team in the best sense of the word. They play as a unit. They play a throwback brand of baseball. They get dirty, they revel in defensive gems, and they play with exuberance. They may end up becoming fodder for the mighty Dodgers and their expensive roster, but they won't go down meekly or easily. I am so happy that Ernie, Nathan, Addison, and Myles will finally become known to those ignorant fanboys and bros to the south. I am excited to witness the blossoming of Trey's career. I am thrilled that Alejandro will get to show off his elite catching skills and prove to the baseball world why he is worthy of a Gold Glove. 

No matter what happens, this team is already in my top-five all-time favourite Blue Jay rosters. Next season will bring the inevitable changes. For now, this city is going to enjoy every single moment. 

Bring on the Series. 

Musings From Self Isolation-Day 10

Day 10

It feels a bit like spring here in Toronto. Ten degrees and mostly sunny. That's fifty degrees for my pre-metric American friends.

Of course, the most that we in apartment or condo isolation can do to enjoy the early seasonal weather is to open our windows. The phrase "breath of fresh air" has never felt so literal or apropos. The sounds of the city, which are usually a cacophony of sirens, streetcar screeches, and a dull thrum of traffic coming from the Gardiner, is strangely and eerily muted these days. Don't get me wrong, there are still far too many people out and about in the west end doing God knows what, but the music and rhythm of our city are definitely suppressed. We live in one of the busiest nightlife corridors in Toronto, the entertainment district, and last night it was a veritable ghost town.

It reminds me of one of my favourite HBO shows of the last five years, The Leftovers. The premise of the program is that on one day, and all at the exact same moment, over one-billion people simply just vanish off of the face of the earth. There is no explanation and no logical reason given. They just aren't there anymore and those who are left behind, the " Leftovers"  are expected to do the impossible; to move on and pick up the pieces.

During the course of the show's three seasons, it is amazing what pops up to fill the void in these people's lives. Bullshit science, strange religious cults, people with messiah complexes, and hidden government agendas all rear their ugly heads to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comforted. But when it comes right down to it, what seems to get most of them through the pain are the connections they forge with others and the kindness they exhibit in the face of great calamity.

I've been asking myself this question a lot over the past ten days. "What am I doing right now that will bring comfort and help to those who need it?"

I am not a medical or health professional who is on the front lines of this crisis. I can't shop or do laundry for anybody right now. While others are sewing masks and other needed PPE equipment, I haven't got those skills. There are so many doing so much right now and I am at a loss for things that I can do to help. I'll take your suggestions.

A few random thoughts.

If you have somebody who comes to clean your home on a regular basis and can't or shouldn't be coming right now, please pay them. You would have paid them anyway and the money was budgeted for it, so pay them for not coming. These gig workers are amongst our most vulnerable and need the income. Also, I hope that you are increasing your tips for those workers who are delivering your groceries. Be a mensch. It doesn't cost you all that much.

Happy Opening Day, baseball fans. The only good news about the postponement of the season is that my beloved Blue Jays will be in the race until at least July. Small favours.

The Mandarin Menace to the south mused today that he wants to put troops on the Canadian border to keep us out. Aside from the fact that he is clearly ignoring that we share the longest undefended border in the world, and have for generations, I'm pretty sure that there are zero Canadians clamouring to get INTO the U.S. right now. The massive fuckups there are just the beginning. Thanks, Donwit. We'll stay right where we are for now. No need to tax your resources enforcing it.

Our internet and television were restored yesterday after almost twenty-four hours without. On the first day of this isolation, I mentioned how grateful I was for the connections through technology. While many of you kibbitzed with me about having to now talk to The Husband, I need you to know that my funny bone is malfunctioning. If I sounded snippy or harsh, I apologize but we are feeling very squirrelly right now. Note that I use the word squirrelly in the most derogative way possible. I still hate those f***ing creatures. Internet access in the CoVid-19 age is not a luxury. It is as important as caffeine and chocolate.

Today's music break comes from James Taylor. His new album American Standard is so soothing and has helped me a lot during the past few weeks. Yesterday,  James and his wife Kim donated $1,000,000 dollars to help in the virus fight to the hospital in Boston where he was born. So many, doing so much.



Wash your hands. Don't touch your face. Be kind. Stay healthy.

My Top Ten Toronto Sporting Moments of the Decade

The decade is coming to a merciful end and believe it or not, that means people have a deep-seated compulsion to create lists.

I marvel at these best of/worst of lists mostly because I honestly can't remember a single movie or television show that I watched back in 2010 that would provide any relevancy to anybody today. I can't even remember what I watched last week so why would I pretend to find hidden understanding and share some perceptive insight into what I thought about The Leftovers, Fleabag, or Killing Eve, shows I watched several years ago but can't recall enough details about to make a list worthwhile. So, an end of decade list of TV shows or movies was dismissed by me out of hand.

I did, however, give some thought to the best of Toronto sports experiences of this past decade. There are several reasons for my compiling this list.

1. Toronto is traditionally a really sucky place to be a sports fan. We spend more time than almost any other city in North America yelling "Wait until next year", and frankly it gets old fast. But, this decade has been different and offered not just hope, but extended periods of actual ebullience. I felt it was time, as a long-suffering Toronto sports fan, to offer up some real remembrance of the thrill of victory rather than of the agony of defeat.

2. Sports bring people of all types together in a common pursuit. Over the last ten years, Toronto has seen the rise of collective cheering locales like Maple Leaf Square and Jurassic Park; places where dedicated and devoted fans can come together and cheer or commiserate with total strangers. Even regular-season games have become community events like no other, and they have brought a diverse city together for something tremendously positive.

3. There has been so much shit in these teen years of the twenty-first century that a bit of reliving the good and exciting can't be a bad thing.

And so, without further delay, I offer up Toronto's Best Sporting Moments of the Past Decade.

10. The Toronto Raptors hire Masai Ujiri (2014) I should say they re-hired him as he had previously been employed by the team as a backroom employee but after a stint with the Denver Nuggets, the Raptors brought him back to be their general manager and now president. His steady hand and clever signings and trades have made the Raptors....well....we will get to that soon. Basketball has become a city-wide phenomenon in a traditional hockey town and most of that is due to Ujiri, his youth outreach, involvement with the community, and basketball acumen. Suffice it to say, that without Ujiri, 2019 doesn't happen for the purple dinos.

9. The Toronto Maple Leafs hire Brendan Shanahan (2014) It was almost as if MLSE had an epiphany in 2014 and realized that losing really does suck so let's bring on the experts to run the joint. Hall of Famer Shanahan finally returned home to run a miserable Leafs team that was going nowhere under Brian Burke. He had a plan, a Shanaplan, to lift the Buds out of obscurity and return them to prominence. He re-engaged with the fans, the alumni, and the city. He finally retired the appropriate sweaters and brought back the history. He spoke straight to the fans when he promised pain before glory and the city has, for the most part, bought into it. No Cups yet but a little luck of the Irish didn't hurt him when he won the draft lottery and was able to select...

8. The Toronto Maple Leafs select Auston Matthews (2016) In the history of the draft, the Leafs had only one other first overall pick, Wendell Clark. The ability to select a powerful centre and goal-scoring savant has accelerated the Shanaplan by several years. The Leafs made the playoffs in Matthews' rookie season and the city went wild. He isn't there yet, but the man can flat out play and his presence, along with those of the flying kids Mitchell Marner, William Nylander, and goalie Frederic Andersen have made the Leafs contenders. Their defence is still suspect and they take too many periods off, but these kids can play. It also didn't hurt that the growth of the younguns led to...

7. The Toronto Maple Leafs sign free agent John Tavares (2018) It is very rare that a player of Tavares' calibre becomes a free agent in the prime of their career. It is even rarer that a Toronto boy wants to come home and play for the Leafs, so when Tavares signed in the summer of 2018, the city was incredulous. In his first season for the Blue and White, he scored 47 goals and became the stabilizing force in the dressing room they needed. It wasn't a surprise when he was named team captain this fall. It would be delirium and bedlam in the city if Tavares ever gets to hoist Lord Stanley wearing the Leaf on his chest.

6. The Toronto FC wins the MLS Championship (2017) I am not much of a soccer fan but I am gradually learning the game. The fanbase in our city is robust and devoted. Thousands show up for every game at BMO field and they went absolutely apeshit when they won the championship. The Toronto Argos won two Grey Cups in this decade and could only wish they had half of the people show up to their games as does FC.

5. The Toronto Blue Jays trade for Josh Donaldson (2014) This was a good old-fashioned baseball trade. The Jays traded Brett Lawrie, Kendall Graveman, Sean Nolin, and Franklin Barreto to the Oakland A's for the power-hitting third baseman. Donaldson slotted seamlessly into the number two spot in the lineup, ahead of Jose Bautista and Edwin Encarnacion and created magic. He promised the rain and he brought it. The Jays added a few more pieces at mid-season that propelled them to the AL East title (Troy Tulowitzki, anyone?) but it was the acquisition of Donaldson that was the catalyst. His 2015 season won him the league MVP and his four years in Toronto are amongst the best in team history.

4. Bianca Andreescu wins the United States Open (2019) Ok, technically she is from Thornhill via Mississagua but we will claim her anyway. The nineteen-year-old phenom has had a year to remember. She not only beat the legendary Serena Williams to claim her first grand slam title but she also won two other important titles this year, including the Canadian Open. She is the first Canadian to win her home country tournament in fifty years. She has risen to number four in the rankings, the highest ever for a Canadian tennis player of either sex and she just won the Lou Marsh Trophy (Canadian athlete of the year) unanimously. Not bad for a girl not yet out of her teens.

3. The Toronto Raptors trade for Kawhi Leonard (2018) This trade was franchise-defining. Not only did the Raptors not know if the Kawhi they were trading for was fully healthy but they traded the face of their team, DeMar DeRozen, to get him. They also knew that they were probably getting a "one and done" season out of their newly acquired superstar but took the risk and hoped for a big payoff. Masai Ujiri had balls of steel to make that trade and it was the biggest deal of the decade for any Toronto sports franchise.

2. This (2015)



I went back and forth for an hour trying to decide between this iconic moment and number one but what clinched it for me was that this led to the Jays moving on to the ALCS and they ultimately lost that series to Kansas City. That said, you have to remember what happened just before Bautista hit this bomb. There was that weird-ass play in the top of the inning where Russell Martin messed up. With two outs in the seventh inning and the game tied at 2, Rangers second baseman Rougned Odor led off third. Texas right fielder Shin-Soo Choo, a left-handed hitter, faced Toronto reliever, Aaron Sanchez. Choo took a 1-2 fastball for a ball and, as baseball’s new speed-up-the-game rules mandate, stayed in the batter’s box. Harmless stuff. Choo did, however, tilt his bat and his hands back over the plate just as Martin lobbed the ball back to Sanchez. Martin’s toss hit Choo’s bat. It squirted toward third base. Odor came home with the go-ahead run. The game was delayed for twenty minutes while the umpires tried to sort out the mess. The Dome went nuts when Odor was awarded home, so Bautista's 3-run shot was clutch and has to be framed in the context of the mess that happened before. It would have been my number one until this happened.

1. This (2019)



This was the most unbelievable shot I have ever seen. That it was game seven in the second round and wasn't even what won them their championship, speaks volumes as to how important it was. Murals are still up around the city depicting it. The Raptors winning the first major sports championship in Toronto in twenty-six years was the icing on a delicious sporting decade. The city came out by the millions to fete their heroes. (I know. I was in the middle of the parade throng.)  There were few hard feelings when Kawhi bolted back to L.A. to play for his hometown Clippers. He did as promised. He made our city feel whole again for a brief moment in time.

This photo will go down in Toronto sporting lore for all time. This is how we show our love up north. (Photo by Frank Gunn of Associated Press)

Happy new sporting decade, Toronto. Let's hope it's even half as exciting as the last one.

The Best Distraction...Possibly EVER.

Last evening I retired to my couch, no snacks in hand due to the unfortunate timing of a medically induced fast, in order to watch Game Seven of the World Series. I did this primarily because I am a baseball fan. The Blue Jays are my lifelong love, but I am first and foremost a baseball fan. There are beauty and poetry on that field. Every pitch of every game is a separate contest within the main. It is the only team sport where the individual battles, those of pitcher versus hitter, have the potential of changing outcomes. It is a thinking person's game. The cerebral player can succeed right alongside the physically gifted. Head, heart, and muscle all combine in one perfect incarnation, the baseball player.

So, settling in to watch the seventh game of the World Series, even though my beloved Blue Birds had been eliminated by one of the final two, was a foregone conclusion. I expected to be swept up in excitement. I expected to be entertained. I expected to hear from friends from both Cleveland and Chicago during the game as to the range of emotions they were feeling. I fully expected a collective experience.

I didn't expect it to be a sui generis moment.

It was rare. A once in a lifetime viewing experience, made even more unique with the involvement of social media. For a split second, it felt as though most of North America was engaged in exactly the same thing at exactly the same time. The Husband was texting me what he was going through from a bar in D.C, as he viewed with election-weary Beltway denizens desperate for a distraction. My Facebook feed was clogged with friends from both sides of the diamond. My Twitter feed, which has been filled with ugliness, misogyny, antisemitism, and hate for weeks, suddenly became all about the beauty of baseball. Casual observers were suddenly transfixed. Rabid fans were hyperventilating. Both teams were equal in their excellence. There was a moment during the unbelievably and most certainly divinely inspired rain delay when I mused honestly about not wanting the game to end, even though it was way past my bedtime. I found myself kibbitzing online with friends, as we all recognized the communal joy. It was singular and beautiful and it can't ever possibly be repeated.

I am not a Cubs fan, but I felt their unmitigated joy. I am not a Cleveland fan, but I was absolutely crestfallen for them. For one night in November, baseball was pure again. The outside shit ceased to exist for just a nanosecond, as we all reveled in beauty together.

Baseball and Ballots

I am still in a state of euphoria after last night's wild ride masquerading as a Blue Jays game. Toronto  fans are well-acquainted with the emotions that Ranger fans must be experiencing today. We just don't get to win all that often, so we accept the uniqueness of being on the victorious side of something so crazy with unabashed happy dancing. Forgive us our minor gloating and hero worshiping. This too shall pass, and we will return forthwith to our loveable nature and national sense of decorum and collective restraint.

That said, there is something about the scheduling of these post season games that does have me a tad concerned. While it has been well-documented as to the timing of Blue Jay/Rangers games, (three out of the five games played were scheduled as weekday afternoon games, thus causing much "blue flu" and consternation amongst bosses and workplaces) I actually do understand the logic coming from Major League Baseball. Toronto simply isn't a major market for their advertisers, and in order to maximize television revenue for their sponsors they would rather see the primetime games coming from New York, Los Angeles, or Chicago. Not ideal for us up here in the Great White North, but we Canadians are nothing if not adaptable. We managed.

But now that we are through to the ALCS, another problem is in the offing. Game Three is scheduled for Monday October 19th, the same day as the federal election. On Facebook today I wrote the following:

I have had about 12 hours to decompress and to think. I need to share this one again. I cannot believe that MLB would schedule a Canadian team to play in a playoff game on Federal Election Day. That would NEVER happen in the US. That said, it is what it is and we need to get the word out. Rooting for our beloved Boys in Blue is fun and necessary, but not as essential as each and every fan casting their ballot. On Monday, please go vote first then get ready to party. Please pass this on. It is vital.

An American friend called me out on it and said the following:

Please vote. Please root for the Blue Jays. But please know that in the US this would ABSOLUTELY happen. Election day is not even a national holiday here. It's life as normal. I think the only difference is that in many (not all) states you cannot buy alcohol until after the polls close.

After some back and forth, we realized that we were actually in agreement. What I was trying to express is that I cannot recall any major sporting event ever being held on that Tuesday in November when Americans are at the polls electing their president, and I feel as though we here in Canada should be afforded a similar courtesy. He was simply stating that pop culture seems to trump (sorry for the bad pun) all, including issues of national import.

My issue with the game being played on Monday is that we here in Canada are a one-team country. Canadians from coast to coast have been riding the Blue Jay bandwagon all season as was evidenced by what happened yesterday. The game's timing could absolutely help to suppress the vote, especially on the west coast where people might be leaving work and heading to the bars or home rather than the polling stations. We have enough trouble with turnout. We don't need more help or excuses.

I understand that MLB has a schedule to keep and if the Rangers had prevailed yesterday this would not be an issue, but they didn't and it is. There is something to be said about special circumstances and a federal election in my mind would certainly qualify. Monday should be an off-day for this series so that Canadians can attend to their highest priority that day, voting for the party that will lead us and guide us for the next four years. As much as I can't believe that I'm saying this, the ballgame is not as important as that.

I am under no delusions that the game's time will change, so it is up to all of us to spread the word. If you know of people who are on the fence about voting because it will not fit into their Monday schedule, harangue them until they get to the polls. This election is simply too close and too important to be called on account of the Blue Jays, no matter how much we love and admire them. Attend to your civic responsibility first and then get ready to party. This team has made all Canadians proud. It is our turn to make them proud.

On October 19th...Get out and vote and then cheer like hell for YOUR TORONTO BLUE JAYS!

Ding a Car, Win a Chicken Sandwich

Baseball and poetry seem to go hand in hand. Writers much more eloquent than I have shared their hazy ethereal love for the pastoral game that seems to burst out of winter shadows like tulips in a spring garden.

Ok. Cheesy imagery really isn't my strong suit.
But there is something about baseball's spring training that inspires such insipid metaphors and similes. Maybe it's the fact that the winter has been interminable and the sight of young men shagging flies on an emerald field brings with it fantasies of life renewed. Maybe it is the blissful equity of every team's hopes and dreams of October competition still mercifully intact. Or perhaps it is the quiet simplicity of the game. Grown men, despite the corporate ownerships and billions of dollars at stake, playing like boys.

This is what I love most about spring training; delighting in watching the boy in every man come to the forefront. I love seeing Jose Reyes, he of the multimillion dollar contract, cavorting and kibbitizing with some awestruck rookie as he challenges the kid to a race across the outfield, and then devolving into giggles as the kid realizes that the fun-loving star gave him a 10 yard head start. There is the pure unadulterated joy in the face of the hulking farm boy as he belts his first home run off of a major league pitcher, while his hitting coach dad positively beams with pride from his perch in the opposing team's dugout.You can almost see the Little Leaguer in him as he bounces around third looking at dad for approval. There is first baseman/DH Adam Lind sporting a winter's worth of mountain man growth on his face that is more than worthy of his teammates' ridicule, and then playfully stroking the beard each time he comes to the plate to demonstrate his response to their good-natured teasing. And then there is former ace Ricky Romero, a lone and solitary figure taking to the mound as he struggles to remember what it was that used to make this game so easy and is now so terribly difficult. The forgotten man desperately trying to make himself visible once again.
And of course, there are the fans...kids every one of us. We jockey for position to watch our favourites and beg for photos and signatures. We delight when they stop to chat (which they do on occasion) and we wrestle for the balls tossed into the crowd. Grown men and women shell out hundreds of dollars for a number 43 jersey, hoping against hope that Mr. Dickey will stop, notice, and maybe converse.

Spring training reminds all of us of a time that was simpler. A time when playing outside was expected and baseball didn't exist on a video game console. It is a place where corporate sponsors don't attempt to buy our affections with bobblehead giveaways, but rather have us cheering for a ball leaving the yard to ding our cars so that we might partake in a free Chick-Fil-A sandwich. (Even the vegetarian me loved that.) Spring training touches that place inside where dreams have lay dormant and hope exists for even the most cynical. (I'm looking at you Older Son!) We set aside the steroid stories, the sabremetrics, our fantasy teams, and the financial inequity, so that we might, for a few hours or days, just enjoy the game and the boys who play it in a way we can only wish we could.

And for me...I get to have my very own Field Of Dreams moment with my adult son. The mother/son road trip version of playing catch. That alone makes the trip worthwhile.

Posted with Blogsy

Put Me In Coach....

“Baseball is the most perfect of games, solid, true, pure and precious as diamonds. If only life were so simple. Within the baselines anything can happen. Tides can reverse; oceans can open. That's why they say, "the game is never over until the last man is out." Colours can change, lives can alter, anything is possible in this gentle, flawless, loving game.” 
― W.P. Kinsella, Shoeless Joe

Back in my teaching days, I always found it amusing trying to explain to young students about the holiday of Tu B'Shevat, the Jewish holiday celebrating trees. "The Birthday of the Trees," we would proclaim in loud enthusiastic voices, and then we would go about attempting to make planting of greenery relevant to pre-schoolers who were more than a little bit confused by the sight outside of their windows of snow and ice that are the norm in a Canadian January, as that is when this little gem of a celebration usually falls. "Well," I used to say. "Maybe it doesn't yet feel like spring outside here in Toronto, but in Israel there are signs of the season everywhere." This rationalization is exactly the method that we northern baseball fans use every single February when the Boys of Summer flock to their spring addresses, readying themselves for the always promising season that lay ahead. We may not be able to yet see or smell the grass, but we know that it is just around the corner because Spring Training has begun and tells us so.

It is one thing to fanaticize about once again sitting in the Dome with a scorecard in one hand and a beer in the other while still in the Great White North freezing one's kishkas blue, but it is a whole other experience to make the journey south to be with the lads as they begin their quest for the Holy Grail of October baseball. For the very first time in 37 years, I made that pilgrimage to watch my beloved bluebirds open the spring season. Older Son and I were fortunate enough to grab a couple of seats in the car with our dear friends and chauffeurs The Social Butterfly and his Sephora Girl, and we all headed the 4 1/2 hours north from The Southern Home. It is a baseball fan's dream. Truly. I know that I am gushing, but I am still giddy from the all too brief encounter with the boys.

The weather? It was a perfect 81 degrees. (Sorry Toronto!) The grass? Mowed and trimmed to perfection with just the hint of fragrance wafting into the stands. (Seriously Rogers! Time to spring for the real deal at the Dome. So necessary!) The players? Excited, nervous, open, engaging, and anticipatory. There is a real feeling of expectation this year and it isn't just amongst the fans. Being a Toronto sports fan, I find it difficult to get overly excited about pre-season prognostications, but this group has the talent. Here's hoping for good health, breakout seasons, and return to form. My son? Happier and more glowing than he has been in a very long time. He spent a great deal of time hanging out down at the fence trying to chat up the guys. While most just went about their business, I think he still got a contact high just from the close proximity.

A few random thoughts about the 48 hour excursion.

I loved the small town feel of Dunedin. It reminded me of Stratford Ontario; a town that is totally centred around one industry for a finite period of time every year. The Stadium is right down the middle of the main street and all of the locals seem consumed with the Blue Jays. If felt very different from the Phillies complex that we passed on the highway in Clearwater....big place in a big city. Dunedin feels like Anytown America, population in the thousands.

Stadium seats only about 4,800 people. They try to separate the visiting team fans to one side so that you don't have to fraternize.  Everybody becomes fast friends, even if they are cheering for the Red Sox.

I knew that I wasn't at the Dome when the PA announcer came on to advise us all that if a foul ball hit any of our parked cars, we would be gifted with a free chicken sandwich. Every time one of the guys managed to foul it off behind the plate, Older Son and I looked at each other and yelled "Chicken Sandwich!"

The Voldemort Skipper of that team wearing the red sox (he who shall not be named) was booed mercilessly when first announced, and again when he came out to deliver the lineup card. He is in for a very rough ride whenever the Beantowners visit this season.

Joey Bats cranked one in the first game. The good news? He pulled it to left, thus turning his formerly injured wrist over in the process. He looked good!

Mr. Knuckleballer has one weird pitch. He wasn't yet in mid-season form as he hadn't yet harnessed the  dancing ball, but his out pitch is odd, unreadable, and hard. He is a keeper.

As are both the pitchers that came over in the mega deal. Both were popping the glove at 95 mph regularly.

Mr. "I'm sorry for the drug use and won't ever do it again" cracked two doubles, one to the opposite field. If he can do that this season with regularity, he will be perfect in the 2 slot.

I loved watching the kids. There is an eagerness to all of them that reminded me of watching my nephew playing Little League. These guys are still in love with the game and it shows. Like John Fogerty wrote:


Got a beat-up glove, a homemade bat, and brand-new pair of shoes; 
You know I think it's time to give this game a ride. 
Just to hit the ball and touch 'em all - a moment in the sun; 
(pop) It's gone and you can tell that one goodbye! 

Baseball is back my friends and there is optimism in the air. I know that it is cold and miserable back home, but take heart.....summer is coming home with the Blue Jays.

"Baseball, it is said, is only a game. True. And the Grand Canyon is only a hole in Arizona. Not all holes, or games, are created equal." ~ George Will

A Few Words and Phrases I have Come to Hate

An old friend used to post a list of words that she hates. The words were mostly onomatopoetic in nature and she did it for laughs, which she received in spades. She has updated it sporadically over the years and it never fails to elicit tremendous guffaws around here from both The Husband and me. Lately I have come to realize that there are a myriad of words and expressions that I too have come to detest. They may not have the lyrical cache of my friend's list, but they are a constant raspberry seed in my molar.

1. Job Creators. This is a bullshit creation by bullshit creators-politicians.
2. Taxpayers. It seems to me that we are all citizens who share in the common good, regardless of the amount of taxes we pay, and we deserve the same protection and consideration by our elected officials. Stop reducing me to the lowest common denominator. 
3. Talking Points. How about trying honesty for a change.
4. Talking Heads. As opposed to those heads that don't talk? 
5. Political Strategists. If ever there was an oxymoronic expression, this one is it!
6. Stump Speech. Did you know that candidates actually used to cut down a tree and stand on a stump to deliver these oratorical nightmares? Today, the reporters who cover these bland regurgitations positively drool if the politicos change even a comma.
7. Transit Plan. Torontonians know just what I am talking about. Just build the f*#@ing thing already and stop with the plans and studies.
8. Left Wing Socialist/Right Wing Fascist. Can't we disagree on policy without all of the ridiculous labels. Consensus is hard enough to achieve without dealing with the name calling.
9. Autotune. This technology should be banned outright. 
10. Arm Problems. My beloved Blue Jays currently have 7 (yes, lucky number 7) pitchers on the DL with major arm problems. One has to wonder if they have a contract to build Dr. Andrews' summer home.

This is a preliminary list. Feel free to add your own.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

I love the middle of February. I realize that for most of you stuck in the misery of cold, dark, snowy, slushy, grey North America-February out and out bites the big one. But for a handful of us diehard fanatics, the middle of February is the beginning of that most wonderful of seasons-baseball pitchers and catchers are reporting to camps in Florida and Arizona. I could easily wax poetic about the pastoral beauty of the game and this wondrous time of year when all teams are created equal in the sight of the Almighty, but for you heathens-like The Husband-it is lost somewhere in the glassy stares when new Apple technology is announced and the joy you feel when you discover a new offering at the LCBO.

It has been many years since I have attended Spring Training. My dad took us to Clearwater to watch the Phillies way back in the time before the establishment of my beloved Blue Jays. I have always wanted to make the spring pilgrimage to Dunedin, but this year it is first time when I actually have the time and the true excitement to go. I will be in the land of my people (Miami) just as my boys of summer kick off the year and I was hoping to make the short four and half hour trek up the Gulf Coast for a couple of days to watch, witness, and maybe befriend Travis Snider. I have a mother thing going on for the boy! The Husband is instead being his old stubborn curmudgeonly self and is steadfastly refusing his wife this small but necessary life's pleasure. So I have come up with a list with which he can replace a two trip to baseball nirvana.

• A dog! Almost any dog will do, provided that it is not a chihuahua! Rescue dog, mutt, pure bred. I have love in my heart for most canines. We can start looking Friday morning when I return to TO.
• That trip to Australia that I have been dreaming about for lo these many years. And I don't mean "soon dear". I mean "this year dear!" Seems to me two days in Dunedin is way more manageable than four weeks down under.
• We could travel to the Bonnaroo Arts Festival in Tennessee where we can spend a long weekend camping under the stars, using public facilities, and picnicking with hundreds of thousands of our closest friends. Think Woodstock for the new millennium! Fun fun! I know how much you love crowds and camping out of doors. Hey! Our friend's kids will be there. We can hang with them!
• How about Comic-Con 2012? You could mingle with the trekkies and the "Sheldon clones" like yourself. We could learn to speak Klingon and watch all of the new movie trailers for those superhero movies you love so much. Maybe even arrange a shitach for Older Son?
• We could spend a wonderfully romantic weekend watching all of the Harry Potter movies, all of the Star Trek movies, all of the Marvel movies, and every Ahhnold movie back to back to back to........

Honestly, Husband. Aren't two days in Dunedin easier than all of that?