Brett Cecil came and made everything better

(whaddya think about that?)

So, I've been away from things for a while. And by "away from things", I mean merely scanning boxscores and grabbing the headlines for the past week as opposed to dryhumping every last minutiae of information I can find surrounding the Blue Jays (awwwkward).

You know how it is - work stuff, family stuff, maybe some more work stuff. Unbelievable that goddamned life dares get in the way of baseball, right? I was this close to dialing into JaysTalk with Wilner and bitching about Lyle Overpaid and that goon JP Ricciardi and his 5 year plan.

But I'm back and plugged in (as much as I ever was, I guess), and I'm here to talk about that magnificent bastard Brett Cecil. The final line might not immediately blow you way (4 ER in 6.2 IP), but like everything else this season, I choose to conveniently blame the manager for not yanking the kid after 6 strong innings. Seriously though, Cecil was everything the Jays hope he will be - a strong mid-rotation presence with power stuff, able to compete against AL East rivals. I'd say his 2010 debut fit the bill.

Oh, and you look good up top, Freddy Lewis.

Oh, and welcome back, Aaron Hill. And make sure you give that sore arm plenty of rest, Edwin.

One more thing - where would the Jays be without Kevin Gregg right now? I know - who woulda thunk it, right?

Quickly....
AJ Burnett's tattooed arm - what the fuck?

Speaking of douchebags, nice to see ARod get called out by Oakland's Dallas Braden for breaking code. Truthfully, I don't even much care who's right in this one. Douchey is as douchey does, Alex.

Brett Wallace is up to 7 HR and a 1.036 OPS. JP Arencibia is starting to come around, too.

Fire up the Adeiny Hechavarria hype machine. Let's go!

RickRo'ed by the possibilities

What a treat to watch Ricky Romero dole out nastiness in various and sundry forms last night. Heaters up to 94 miles per hour that landed in John Buck's glove with a SNAP. Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes that made our knees buckle. Curveballs that fell vertically more than foot. Two-seamers with more than five and a half inches if horizontal movement. So much movement that we were as nauseous as the White Sox hitters in the end.

(Can you tell that we've just started mucking about on Brooks Baseball? If only we knew what we were talking about!)

As we watched last night's performance, we thought back to the years-upon-years of piled up snark that was directed towards Romero and his selection with the sixth pick in 2005. We thought of all the time that his selection ahead of Troy Tulowitzki (and other notable starters like Mike Pelfrey, Wade Townsend and Lance Broadway) was held up as the shining example of how this franchise was adrift and would spend decades in the wilderness trying to make up for the lost opportunity of a high draft pick.

And then we looked and saw RickRo in all his glory, looking like a pitcher who is finally starting to piece together his repertoire and his mental approach and put them into action with a sound game plan. Some pitching prospects might dazzle and blow away the scouts and pundits at first blush, but Romero never seemed like that sort of pitcher to us. He strikes us as more as a Tom Glavine-type: A pitcher whose progress is not based on harnessing otherworldly physical gifts, but rather, in maximizing the return on the skills that he has, and in being the man in control of game as often as possible.

As a 24 year-old in Atlanta, Glavine posted a 4.28 ERA and a 1.45 WHIP, while Romero's 24th year season saw him post numbers in a similar range: 4.30 and 1.55. Glavine went on to win the Cy Young the next season and finish in the top three of the voting five other times. Which isn't to say that we should be clearing space on RickRo's mantle just yet.

But after last night's performance, it's hard not to get excited by the possibilities.

Newest entry on The Enemies List - A.J. Pierzynski
If any of you have your "A.J. is a Douche" signs left over from Mr. Burnett's return last year, tonight might be a good time to bring them down to the RC. We're not blaming him for RickRo losing the no-hitter as some have, but we're more than a little stunned to see umpires give him the benefit of the doubt on his phantom hit-by-pitch last night given his shenanigans in the past.

We're not sure what is the most appropriate punishment at this point: A Brandon Morrow heater in the ribs? A strike zone several inches tighter for his pitchers in tonight's game? Where's Michael Barrett when we need him?

Briefs: Various and sundry thoughts from a long weekend

Hope you all had a great long weekend, eating spaghetti squash and ham and turkey and watching baseball where Sportsnet deigned to put the playoff games on the air.

Watching douchebags fail makes life worth living
We felt for our buddy the Red Sox fan, who came over to watch the Red Sox-Angels game in the TaoCave on Sportsnet West (the only feed on which the "four-channel offering" could be bothered to run what should be a national sports media property).

Yeah, sure, he roots for a team full of pompous douches and rat-faced little twerps (shine that MVP plaque this offseason, Mr. 72 RsBI Pedroia), but you still have to empathize at least a little bit when you watch his arsewipe closer huff and puff and blow the game for the Masshole Nation.

Nah. On second thought, you don't. Because watching Jonathan Papelbon cough up a three run lead is one of the happier moments we've seen this year.

(And a free tip for Mr. Irish Jig for next season: Mix in an offspeed pitch once in a while.)

Anthopoulos does stuff
If you were wondering whether if Alex Anthopoulos is just keeping the GM seat warm until the mythical creature known as the Next President of the Jays is found, the news that he's brought in his pal Dana Brown from his days with les Expos should at least give a sense that he thinks he's got the job long term.

We'll leave it to those who dig into the whole prospect and development side of baseball to figure out if this is a good thing. The Nats don't seem to have an overwhelming abundance of talent, and the Expos had some pretty fallow years in the draft before moving south (Josh Karp and his $2 Million-plus signing bonus, anyone?)

Simmons slurpage
Speaking of the new GM, the Sun's Steve Simmons could barely contain his glee while writing his love letter to the new regime.

"It all sounds so promising and so anti-Ricciardi that you want to believe every word and you want to run alongside him, just hoping to capture that youthful exuberance," Simmons wrote.

Not that we're wishing ill on Anthopoulos, because the fate of the team that we spend entirely too much time worrying about rests in his hands and in his decisions. But we're getting an impression that the lad is going to get cut a lot of slack over the next few years because he is just so darned nice and Canadian. (Never mind that J.P. was pilloried for years for firing top scouts and minor league staff upon his arrival, while Alex is getting a pass on doing the same.)

A Bad Week for Umpires
It's probably a good thing that the first round of the playoffs has concluded, and that the pack of umpires will be culled by half. While it is understandable that umpires are going miss a few calls and the spotlight of the playoffs will make those mistakes more evident, this year's postseason seems to have had more than its share of botched calls.

The most fun for us, though, was suddenly seeing hundreds of people late on a Friday night landing on an 18 month-old post about Phil Cuzzi, and our general antipathy towards him. Fun stuff.

Happy Reading
Just picked up Stephen Brunt's new book, Gretzky's Tears: Hockey Canada, and the Day Everything Changed, and though we're only three chapters in, we can wholeheartedly recommend it. It's on sale. Go buy it. You owe it to yourself. Brunt is a national treasure, and buying his book will only convince Knopf to keep engaging him to write more of them. Which is a good thing.

The book is so good that about five pages in, we hit ourselves over the head with it, because his eloquent, engaging, and evocative prose is so far beyond anything that we'll be able to write. (And he doesn't even indulge in corny alliteration like we just did there.)

A lot can happen in a meaningless game

Maybe it will make us look as tone deaf and overly earnest as a Rattle and Hum era Bono, but we wore out the floorboards, pacing through last night's thriller of an 8-7 win over the Red Sox.

Yeah, yeah. We should have perfected our disaffected pose by now, and we should have signed off on the season long ago. But when you check out and declare that you've given up on the team, you might just miss something special.

Like a troika of homers from Adam Lind. And José Bautista still killing it. And Kevin Millar turning a 6-5-3 double play. And six total homers for the good guys. And the bullpen handing back the lead. And Jonathan Papelbon reconfirming what an unmitigated douche he is. ("My bad", my ass!) And the Sausage King locking down the win and getting Kevin Youkilis on a called third strike that umpires would usually give to any Sox player in Fenway.

Some people get too wrapped up in whether if the game they are watching is "meaningful". (Ultimately, aren't they all kinda meaningless?)

But the great thing about baseball is that every day, there's a new game. It's always something new, and it's the greatest game there is. That might not mean anything to you, but it means something to us.

The Crux of our Tweets
We've been getting exceedingly argumentative over on the Twitter lately. Not sure what's up with that. But suddenly, we find ourselves unable to avoid engaging in verbal parries and thrusts, 140 characters at a time.

Here's the gist of what we were bitching about last night:

• We like José Bautista. Especially as a super sub who's the 24th or 25th guy on the roster. And we don't discount his seven homers and 15 RsBI and .932 OPS just because it's September. With regular playing time, he's gotten better.
• We think Adam Lind deserves some consideration for the MVP. Not ahead of Joe Mauer or anything, but maybe further down the ballot. But with his offensive explosion last night, Lind's offensive numbers are on par with Kendry Morales, who's been third or fourth on our ballot for the past few months.
• You don't hit a guy just to hit a guy back. Who do you think you are? Gary Roberts or some other jerk-off fake tough guy? You've got a one-run lead. You gotta protect that. Because moral victories come and go, but actual victories stay in the Win column forever.

If you're interested in watching us go on with this while Polyannaish routine and argue with people for the sake of it, follow us over at twitter.com/taoofstieb.

Whatever you do...

Seriously, it's early. Dropping the first two games in an 18-game season series shouldn't be enough reason to heave yourself over side of the bandwagon, no matter how many fairweather douchebags or gloating Massholes you have in your face telling you that your devotion to the Jays is laughable.

The preponderance of evidence from the first quarter of this season suggests that the Jays are going to hang in there and are going to compete. And even if, in the worst case scenario, the Jays lose tonight, we should keep a few plain truths in mind. Like that at some point this year, the Jays are going to lose three or four or five games in a row. They are going to lose heartbreakers and they'll get blownout. They're going to lose a series to someone they should have beaten, and they will put a beating on a contending favorite.

It's a long season, and a lot of things can happen over 162 games. Let's all just relax and be like Cito. Let's be cool, babies.

Ahhh.

Welcome once again, for the first time: Bobby Ray
You know, back when he was Robert Ray, we took a shining to the lanky Jays farmhand, calling him (and I'm quoting myself here) "the surprise arm who will emerge this year". But there's something unsettling about a man who makes a choice at the age of 24 to go with a diminutive form of his name, ostensibly because that's what his teammates call him already.

Then again, if he can get through seven innings tonight and give up fewer than three runs, we wouldn't care if he called himself Slim Ray or Jimmy Ray.

There's no need to worry about Doc

It was funny to hear the first two callers on JaysTalk last night complaining and worrying about the team's fortunes after they'd just finished cleaning the turf with the Tigers in a 12-5 win. As Wilner quite rightly pointed out, people should probably tone down the negativity on a night when the Jays opened up the season on exactly the right note.

Some of the concern voiced was over Roy Halladay's seventh inning, where the Tigers put up four runs after Doc had been pretty much masterful all night. From what we saw, Halladay had a bit of trouble with his location while pitching from the stretch, but that's to be expected to a certain degree.

Halladay, because of his unspeakable awesomeness, had pitched almost entirely from the windup all night to that point. Pitching from the stretch late in the first real game of the year, Doc threw two pitches to Guillen and Inge that were up and over the plate, and they got tagged. But seriously, let's not lose our shit about this.

The Amazing Sniderman
Can we all agree that Travis Snider is the best number nine hitter in the game? People like Jeff Blair talk about Snider squaring up on the ball, and last night provided two picture perfect examples of what happens when he does so. Though we got to see him last year, we are impressed all anew with how economical Snider's swing is, how quickly he gets his bat through the hitting zone and how well balanced he looks when he swings.

Snider isn't a swing-from-his-ass power hitter in the Matt Stairs mould, and that augurs well for his ability to remain consistent at the plate. We get the impression that Snider will be the sort of hitter who will hit good pitches, as opposed to gripping and ripping at mistakes.

A Stern Word for Douchebag Fans
As Papa Tao used to say to us when he was starting a talk like this: "We've got a bone to pick with you."

There's nothing wrong with enthusiasm, and there's nothing wrong with having a bit of drunken debaucherous superfan fun at the game. But there is one - AND ONLY ONE - legitimate reason to throw something on the field at a baseball game, and there is only one reason to cheer on someone who throws shit on the field at a baseball game.

If the other team hits a home run and you catch or pick up the ball after it has ricocheted off of someone's melon, then - AND ONLY THEN - can you take the home run ball and toss it back on the field of play.

That's it. End of story.

Last night, the wise and sage old manager Jim Leyland took the actions of a few random d-bags and milked it to the hilt, putting the Jays magnificent opening night offensive explosion at risk. All those home runs and rallies you were cheering on? All would have been wiped from the record and the Jays would have had to forfeit the game.

Adam Lind's six ribbies? Toast. Sniderman's double and homer? Gone. Every Jay getting a hit? Forgotten.

And we hope you all realize that Toronto is getting a reputation as a city full of hooligans who can't help themselves from being idiots when they assemble in a large crowd. Big League Stew's Kevin Kaduk sent us a note on Twitter in the midst of the eighth inning madness asking: "What's with you Torontonians and big crowds? Leave Curtis Granderson alone!"

So for the love of god, show some goddamned self respect, pull yourself together and stop throwing your shit on the field on the field during games.

Understood?

So long, Moose

Right off the top, let me get something out of the way: I am petty, vindictive, and a bit (?) of an ass myself. Now that I've cleared that up, let me get one more "fuck you, Mike Mussina" post out of my system. Don't act surprised - you knew this was coming....

First, let me congratulate Archie's big dumb friend on a great career - possibly a Hall of Fame career - and for going out on top (his first 20 win season). It's not often you see players potentially walk away from another ten or twenty million dollar contract. Another point in Mussina's favor is that he was a pretty loyal guy, having spent his 17 year career split between just two teams, the Baltimore Orioles and the New York Yankees. Yet another check in the "good" box is that all of his accomplishments came pitching out of the notorious AL East.

To further honor Mussina, I'm thinking about planning a little road trip to New York next summer. I'd like to be there when they celebrate his career and retirement with a pre-game ceremony. I just hope the proceedings don't delay the start of the game at all, because, in fact:

"I congratulate the man who got 4,300 games, but sitting for 15 extra minutes before the game was supposed to start - that was worse. When they say 2:15 and it’s 2:25 and they’re still on the field ... I don’t want to take anything away from him. That’s a tremendous accomplishment. But tell us 2:30 instead of 2:15. That’s all."

For this Mike Mussina, you're an asshole. Oh, I could go on and rehash the whole Cito-Mussina feud also, but I think Cito put that one to bed during the season with this quote:

"Mike Mussina can kiss my ass — and you can print that"

I could also express the popular sentiment about how Mussina didn't pitch for fame or fortune, but a quick bit of research tells me that he made just under $145 million in salary during his career. Kind of takes the shine off that star, no?

So congratulations on your career, Mike. I hope you enjoy your retirement. Asshole.

Desperate, or delusional?

Has it really been fifteen years? Really? Fifteen years since the Blue Jays have sniffed the playoffs? Let's see....2008-1993=15. Well I'll be damned. It really has been fifteen years.

Maybe that's why I'm more than willing to scream (type) "PLAYOFFS!" with every September win. Maybe that's why I'm willing to overlook the fact that making up seven games in less than a month is pretty fucking unlikely to happen. Maybe that's why I'm telling myself that a 2.8% shot at the playoffs is nothing to sneeze at. Maybe that's why it's a good thing I was holding a pair of socks in my hand and not the remote during the eighth inning of the weekend series opener in Fenway.

You see, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary (let's call that a pre-emptive strike), I'm trying really hard not to be a douchebag. No, really. You know the type. The type who downplays, or even better, shits on any success the team has - because, you know, it's over and the games don't really matter at this point anyway (see Friscolanti, Michael). I don't want to be a cynical prick, at least no more than I already am. I don't want to cheer for the Kansas City Royals. I want to cheer for the Toronto Blue Jays, 2008 playoff contenders.

Having said all that, if the Jays happen to drop one more game this weekend, fuck it - I'll be cheering for the Toronto Blue Jays, 2009 playoff contenders. I don't give a shit, I've already talked myself into it.

And that's all I have to say about that.....

Mencherson vs Linder
I should know better than to question any managerial decisions during the Gastonian (terminology hat tip) era. I think Cito's earned that free pass given the run he has this team on. And I really kinda sorta maybe agree with holding back young phenoms Lind and Snider from facing the knuckle/shitballer in the opener. But under no circumstances do I want to see the names of Mencherson in place of either (or both) of them for the remainder of the series. That's fair, right?

Curt Schilling continues his quest for supreme douchebaggery
It's been well documented that Curt Schilling is a man among boys in terms of being a d-bag. I mean, I don't think I'm breaking any new ground here. But Schilling's latest rant concerning New York sports fans literally had me laughing out loud.

"They want us to be as bitter and mad and miserable and they are," he said. "And, unfortunately, it's not going to happen."

Are you fucking kidding me, Curt? Seriously? Red Sox Nation doesn't fit the profile of bitter, mad, and miserable? Sons of Sam Horn - ever heard of the site? Actually, I know you have, because I hear you used to post there. In that case - get Van Vonderen on the phone. Someone needs an intervention.

I want my Marcum back

Right about now, I'm guessing that you might be asking yourself, "why is a picture of Dustin Pedroia, in all his douchebaggery, leading a post about Shaun Marcum?" Well, I'm getting to that, junior.

You see, I've never liked Pedroia, but always kinda sorta maybe a little....admired him. These feelings came with a hearty side order of self-loathing, so I've always managed to repress them, but they were there - lurking. Then I happened across an article with Douchebag Jr. as the subject, and I no longer have to worry about these sick feelings of admiration for a Red Sock (is that right? Is that how you do it?).

If you're too lazy to click the link (hey - it's OK - sometimes I do it too), basically, Pedroia is a trash-talking loudmouth who constantly runs his gums and refuses to give credit to anyone he faces. You know - a mental edge sort of thing. He could be facing Roy Halladay in the midst of a no-no and come back to the dugout after a 3 pitch strikeout railing about how Doc has nothing.

So you can imagine what he was saying after he took Shaum Marcum deep in the first inning tonight..... "He ain't got shit!"...."Easy AB's tonight boys!"....."Even you can get a hit tonight, Tek!".....

And you know what? He'd be right.

Now, it's pretty hard to quibble with what Marcum has done this season - he's still 8-6 with a sub-4.00 ERA. But even though he'd put together a nice stretch of starts before this one, I can't quite shake the feeling that he's not all the way back from that mid-June elbow strain that cost him a month of the season. His fastball seems to be topping out at 86-87, which makes his bread and butter 81-82 change-up just a little less dazzling. And what about the sharp breaking ball? Where'd that go?

Is it just me? Does he look like the same pitcher to you? I'm remembering a guy from April-May-June who was in full command and making hitters look foolish, teasing them with his change-up and sneaking by fastballs as a result. Now I'm seeing a guy who doesn't look comfortable out there, has lost velocity, and is struggling to get hitters out.

I'm certainly not ripping on Marcum here. Far from it - what am I, a moron (rhetorical)? I'll tell you what I am, though, is shit scared that all is not well with Marcum's elbow and he's trying to pitch through it. I sure hope I'm only seeing something that isn't there, because that scenario won't end well for anybody.

The Blue Jays have a new player, and he's not one of my all-time favorites just yet
So, debut tonight for the great Jose A Bautista. Oh-fer one in a pinch hit appearance. LOSER! Just kidding, but.....I....just....don't....get....it. Yeah yeah, low-cost low-risk move for the Jays. The player-to-be-named, per Wilner guesstimate, will be a Russ Adams-John Parrish-Curtis Thigpen organizational type guy.

But...another utility infield guy? Really? We need more of that on this team? Oh wait - he now leads the team in homers (with 12 - barf)? I don't know. I'm just not feeling this one, JP. Maybe he proves me wrong and takes the lefty Lester deep in game 2 of the series.....but isn't that what Mencherson was supposed to do? (Kevin Mench as opposed to the now-DL'd Brad Wilkerson, I mean, but the 2 are virtually indistinguishable in my mind.)

If you want to jump off the bandwagon, then shut up and do it already

For those of you who are fastidious readers of the comments over at the Drunk Jays Fans' lair, you may have noticed that we kinda lost our shit a little over there talking about the people who call in to JaysTalk to proclaim their impending exit from the Jays' bandwagon. It was a caffeine and dumbass-induced rage, and we sincerely apologize if our language may have offended.

But while our language may have been a little off-putting, the substance of that comment stands: we are sick and tired of people smugly going declaring that they are through with the Jays, or that they are going to stop following them, or that they are never going to the 'Dome again.

Here's the thing: It shouldn't be a source of pride that you are giving up on your team.

Sure, every team needs their casual fans who will drift in and drift out depending on the team's fortunes. That's a given. But if you are a casual fan, then don't be a fucking obnoxious douchebag about how you've had enough of the team. Just pack up your shit and leave quietly, because your lack of commitment to the Blue Jays means that you don't have any right to be indignant at the shite state of affairs that the team may be in. So fuck off.

Seriously: you think this is bad? Do you remember sitting through about five years of Alex Fucking Gonzalez whiffing on a breaking ball away for strike one in every goddamned at bat? Do you remember when Orlando Merced was the big masher in the heart of the order? Do you remember Shawn Green being benched in favour of Reuben Sierra? Or having to cheer for Craig Grebeck, Jacob Brumfield, or Frank Castillo? Do you remember watching Joey Hamilton haul his stupid goatee and his fat ass out to the mound every five days to disappoint us once again? Do you remember the Jays signing Danny Darwin and Frank Viola in the same year? And releasing them both within months?

You wanna fucking talk about Russ Adams again? How about we talk about Eddie Zosky?

You think that Alex Rios doesn't always have his head in the game? Check the Level of Excellence for the name George Bell. If you are a fan, you may remember that he suffered from some of the same lapses.

You think that watching a team that is seven games out of the Wild Card and two games above .500 is painful? You don't know what pain is!

You know why we sat through all of those years? Because we are die-hard. Which is to say that we don't discard the team when they get off to a slow start, or when another team is leapfrogging them in the standings. We stick with it because the promise is out there that one day, we'll reach the glorious heights again, and we'll feel that elation.

And you know when that day comes, you fuckers will be out there celebrating in the streets as though you didn't betray the team a dozen times since Joe Carter touched 'em all (Judas!!). But deep down, you'll know what a pathetic fraud you are. So don't be so proud of yourselves and your bold declarations now.

There are lots of you fairweather fans out there who can talk about the salad days of the franchise, and how excited you were when they won in '92 and '93. But do you know how we can tell who the real fans are? They're the people who remember the collapses in 1987 and 1990. They remember Garth Iorg's dribbler and Frank Tanana's junkballing and Mickey Tettleton hitting a walkoff homer on the last day of the season off Tom Henke.

That pain runs deep.

So seriously: if you want to brag about what a choking crybaby girlie-man panty-waisted nancy-boy you are, and how you're too much of an emotional wimp to make any sort of a commitment to a team, then go right ahead. Tell the world that you were over-pampered by your clinging mother, and you're too much of a sissy to hang in there through the bad times.

Maybe while you are at it (and in between your manicure and chest-waxing), you could tell your significant other how you'll leave them as soon as the going gets tough because you can't hack it if everything doesn't go your way.

But believe us when we tell you that you'll maintain your dignity if you just shut up and leave quietly.

Good riddance.

Ladies and gentlemen....your post-deadline 2008 Toronto Blue Jays!

....are exactly like your 2008 pre-deadline Toronto Blue Jays.

And so it has come to pass. The trade deadline, that is.... and along with it, any real reason to get excited about this club one way or the other down the stretch. On one hand, there was the possibility the Jays would be buyers with names like Jason Bay and Raul Ibanez floated in the hours leading up to the deadline. The Ibanez rumours (that's right, with a "u") in particular reeked of desperation bullshit. But hey, at least he would have been a nice bat Cito could plunk into the middle of the order. He would have fit nicely sandwiched into the New Murderers Row of Overbay-Barajas-Stairs-Rolen. Might have upped the enjoyment factor down the stretch, is all I'm saying.

On the other hand, the Jays could have (should have?) been sellers....and yeah, that would mean losing some players we may have grown fond of (that was for dramatic effect, folks), but under the "sellers" scenario, we could have at least convinced ourselves that the prospects coming back could be difference makers down the road.

Instead, we have the status quo, and it's probably fitting. Oh sure, the team will probably go on a nice little 10 of 12 run sometime before the end of the season, but I've been fooled too many times into thinking the team had turned the corner....only to lose 2 of 3 at home to Tampa Bay.

Oh, I'll still watch. I'll still cheer. Full disclosure, I'll still get way too wrapped up in a Wednesday night game against Oakland. But I'll probably be doing it with an eye on 2009. Unless we take the next 5 of 6, of course.

Memo to fans of the Tampa Bay Rays
Seriously now....fuck off! Your team is good. Real good, in fact. Better than any of us thought it would be. You have Evan Longoria, Bossman Junior, and Carl Crawford to be the cornerstones of the offense for years. You have Scott Kazmir, Jimmy Shields, Matt Garza, and David Price to give you a formidable rotation to match those sticks.

But you know what, you were a fucking terrible team for 10 years, and we actually felt pretty bad for you. Cut you some slack, I'd say. Must have been the Canadian in us, I suppose.

And you? You've become smarmy pricks. Have you learned nothing from the Massholes? At least Red Sox Nation (hate the term, by the way - fills me with rage) waited until they had a World Series title under their collective belts before turning up the douche factor. You guys? You're snapping the knob off the dial 100 games into the only winning season in franchise history.

A.J. Burnett is a three-wins-over-.500 pitcher

In his last four starts, A.J. Burnett is 3-1 with a 1.32 ERA, 31 Ks versus 8 BBs.

So, Steve Simmons: You know what's frustrating about A.J. Burnett? That the Blue Jays don't have him locked up for the next two years yet.

Speaking of which, the decision by the Blue Jays to hold on to Burnett (at least, that seems to be the message today) would lead any sentient being to assume that they're going to try to sweeten the pot to buy out his option. We don't know where the $4 million figure that has bounced around our comments section (as well as the Drunks') comes from, but we suspect that it wouldn't be enough. We're guessing that it's going to take more than $5 million over those last two years to wrap him up, especially since he'd probably attract offers of more than $15 million per annum in the off-season.

But what the fadoo do we know?

On Canadian pitchers, petulant GMs, and the Olympics
Anyone catch J.P. Ricciardi in the scrum yesterday, discussing the recall of Canadian pitcher Scott Richmond? We're not sure what the question was that set him off, but Ricciardi went into full-on smarmy, snarky, you-gotta-be-kidding-me mode when someone seemed to question him on whether if he considered the implications of Richmond missing the Olympics for Canada.

"When you grow up playing catch in your backyard, do you dream of playing in the Olympics or in the Big Leagues?" Ricciardi scoffed.

We'd have to side with J.P. on this one, and we'd draw a clear distinction between this and Colorado GM Dan O'Dowd's bullshit move to keep Jeff Francis out of the 2004 Olympics. Richmond is a career minor leaguer who's getting his first shot at the bigs at 28. Francis was a prospect who was ordered to stay in the minor leagues and not join the Olympic team just because.

Oh, and by the way...fuck Jeff Francis.

Beautiful Lazy Sorta Long Weekend

We hope to god that most of you have had the good sense to make a long weekend out of this Canada Day tomfoolery. What sort of idiot would be at work on an utterly beautiful day such as today? (Well, aside from us?)

Celebrating our Confederation...in Seattle?
Seriously, this whole business of keeping the Jays out of Toronto on holidays (Victoria Day and Canada Day in particular) has gotten out of hand. Who do we have to blow in order to get ourselves a home series for the Jays over the weekend of our national holiday? Maybe Paul Godfrey didn't want to ask for such frivolities as he was angling for the All-Star Game (and settling for the World Baseball Classic, or Festival, or Jamboree or whatever the hell they are calling it.) Still, we miss the days when the Jays came out in sweet red caps and jerseys with "Canada" on the back.

Maybe we didn't appreciate the last Canada Day home game because on that day, the Jays wore quite possibly the ugliest uni's ever sported by the Toronto nine.

There's always next year, we suppose. Regardless, we fully expect that the Jays fans in beautiful British Columbia will make their way down to Safeco this week to represent. And possibly strip to the waist and make really bad puns on player's names. (This is what too many hours in front of collegehumor.com has done to our youth.)

Make us proud, left coast Canadians.

Kevin Elster's brother has had enough

The genius behind the strategy of packing the Rogers Centre with Red Sox and Tigers fans has decided to take his show on the road, having had enough of Toronto and its general apathy towards baseball.

Jeff Blair reports that Patrick Elster, who has suffered through a life lived as the brother of Kevin Elster, decided to move on from the Jays as early as last December. This may explain his "fuck it, I'm outta here anyways" approach to selling tickets this year, which has resulted in a net drop of about 40,000 fans over the first 30 home dates.

Not that you can attribute all of this decline to Elster. The Jays have yet to have a really compelling opponent (i.e. Boston or the Yanks) come to town for a weekend series since the notorious opening weekend. It will be interesting to see if this weekend's matchup against the Cubs attracts many fans from across the Midwest, although given higher gas prices and the pain in the ass of getting back and forth across the border these days, the Jays won't be able to count on the visitors' fans packing the Dome.

The Beej feels shame once again

Three things that absolutely killed us at about 5:04 Eastern time yesterday:

1) Knowing that with Johnny Mac (or even Scutaro) patrolling short, that the game would have been over yesterday with A-Rod's slow bouncer. Maybe Rolen was a distraction, but that was a ball that Major League short stop should get. Sorry Scrappy Doo, but you're back on the shit list.

2) Listening to Jamie Campbell absolutely lose his shit AGAIN when the other team wins in a walk off against the Jays. Do you think Hawk Harrelson would squeal like a little girl at a Jonas Brothers concert if the Yanks had beaten the White Sox? Sure, there's a balance between being a nauseating homer and an absolute objective observer, but Campbell should recognize the fact that he's conveying the games events to a few hundred thousand BLUE JAYS FANS, who aren't going to get all sopping wet about the Yankees magic and mystique, blah blah blah. It's like he felt he had to shout over top of Michael Kay in the press box.

3) Of all the Yankees to do it, why did it have to be that wretched douchebag Giambi?

As per usual, Jon Hale at the Mockingbird sums up that last pitch about as well as anyone could. It was a mistake pitch, although we wonder if the Jays shouldn't be backing off on Beej (and Jesse Carlson for that matter) just a bit. We're not sure what the speed was on that meatball, but it seemed to float in there at a snail's pace.

Gargh!

Shamed by our potty mouth

Wouldn't you know that the moment that we post something that's full of expleted deleteds, we'd have Yahoo's Big League Stew, Baseball Musings and Rob Neyer link to it. Our momma's gonna let us have it, but good.

Somewhere, Buzz Bissinger just slipped that post into a brown file folder for his next TV appearances decrying the damn pamphleteers.

Of course, it's true that we've allowed ourselves to get caught up in our shameless aping of the Drunk Jays Fan to such an extent that we can't even write a post without profanity anymore, gosh darnit.

Tonight's matchup is fuc...er, delightful!
Just for the sake of perfect symmetry, tonight our hero and undisputed Cy Young front runner Jesse Litsch goes up against the last man added to the ToS Enemies List, Mike Mussina.

An open letter to douchebag 500-level drunken brawlers

Dear douchebags,

Fuck off.

No seriously. Fuck right off.

What do you think? That by starting scraps in the stands and on GO Train platforms that you're gonna prove to all of your pathetic friends what a man you are? That you're gonna show the world how no one should fuck with you after a couple of $10 beers? That you're at the game to drink some beer and kick some ass?

You know what you are? You're not a scrappy drinker with heart who's out to show how tough you are. You're not a tough guy.

You are pathetic.

You are the scum of the fucking earth. The lowest of the low.

Why is it that when there's something that is good (like cheap seats to Jays games for those who aren't made of money), idiots like you want to come along and smear yourselves all over it? So now there will be no beer sales for anyone in the 500s during those games, including those that can handle it. Everyone is going to get patted down, and it's going to take forever to get into the building because we're going to get felt up and patted down by security every game.

Do you realize that the rest of the world is laughing at us because you stupid fucking idiots? They're not saying "Hey man, don't mess with Toronto fans! They're tough!" They are saying "Toronto fans can't hold their liquor." They are mocking you.

Are you happy? Are you pleased with yourselves? Do you get a big boner when you watch yourselves on shakey YouTube videos? Do you fancy yourselves as some Tyler Durden type of primal manly man because you let your drunken adrenaline get the best of you? What's wrong with you? What is your fucking purpose?

If you want to get drunk and pick fights, then stay at Hooters and get charged up on chicken wings and pitchers, and then spill out onto John Street and fight amongst yourselves.

Stay away from our team. We'd rather be mocked by other baseball fans for not being able to fill our seats than to be mocked for being a bunch of lightweight hooligans.

(Thanks to the Drunk Jays Fans, Neate's guest Andy Grabia and others for their thoughts.)

Phil Cuzzi is still a douchebag

Phil Cuzzi is at it again. The douchebag umpire, who gets off on calling ball and strikes like Ronnie Milsap after a six-week bender, tossed Ozzie Guillen after blowing a call on a high strike in the third inning of yesterday's game between the White Sox and the Twins.

It was Cuzzi, you may remember, who gave Roy Halladay the heave-ho for hitting Rocco Baldelli with a pitch in his second-to-last start of the season in 2003, at a time when there were significant implications for Doc's Cy Young aspirations and a number of Blue Jays team records on the line.

He also put himself front and center in the 2005 NLCS when he tossed Jim Edmonds for asking where a called strike was.

Cuzzi likes to present himself as a story of faith, family and determination, as evidenced by the fact that he was shit-canned by the league in 1993, but managed to sneak in the back door to the Majors again in 1999 when a slew of the umpires resigned as part of Richie Phillips' ill-advised labour negotiation tactics.

We can't wait to see Cuzzi umpire a Jays game this season.

The Enemies List grows: Mike Mussina

Let's just get this out of the way, first and foremost. Mike Mussina sucks moose dong.

Aside from that, there are numerous reasons for us to add the Yankees has-been to our list. Most of which were more eloquently summarized by the commenters in this morning's post. But we'll summarize the summarizations.

-He showed up Cito: In the 1993 All Star Game in Camden Yards, Mussina got up in the bullpen in the late innings like a petulant teenager, trying to force Cito Gaston into playing him. This, of course, elicited wild applause from crack-smoking Bodymore, Murderland crowd. (Green House Gas is hot! Get it! Greehouse Gas!) Cito had no intention of putting him in (why would he, with Duane Ward on the mound?), but Mussina's presumptuous act resulted in years worth of hostility towards Cito from the Orioles' faithful (stupid bastards). Mussina repaid the team's loyalty by signing with the Yankees.

-He whined about the inconvenience of a ceremony honouring Tom Cheek: Sorry you got thrown off your routine, there, doucheboy. It was only a brief ceremony to honour one of the most important figures in the history of baseball in Canada, and a man who had fallen ill. So sorry that you had to soft toss for a few extra minutes in the bullpen. Your routine should really take precedence over giving a man of humble greatness the recognition he deserves.

-He's a Yankee: And all Yankees are inherently douchebags. (Yes, Derek Jeter included.) Also, we'd like to point out that the Yankees have won exactly ZERO World Series since Mussina arrived. Coincidence?

-He was in an overly precious documentary about doing crosswords: Yeah, this one. It was actually really pretty dull, and Mussina was the dullest part of the whole thing. But we're so pround of your linguistic skills, Mikey. You're super smart. We bet you could kick Johnny Damon's ass at Boggle. Smart guy.

-We hate his teeth: Nice chompers.

-He's tonight's starting pitcher: That's kind of the short view. Still, it's relevant to us.

For all of these dubious achievements and more, we welcome to the Mike Mussina to the Tao of Stieb's Enemies List. Guard your grill, jackass.

Note to Paul Godfrey - You might want to beef up security on opening weekend

We don't mean to suggest that our invited guests for the opening homestand are somehow going to be somewhat less than well-behaved. (Because there's no precedent for Red Sox fans to act like drunken douches at Rogers Centre, right?)

But somehow, we're not comforted by the news (via Deadspin) that a bunch of Red Sox fans beat the snot out of a Yankee fan over the weekend, just because.

Yeah, this is going to work out just super, isn't it?