Weekend update/scattered thoughts

I'm here there and everywhere this weekend, with minimal levels of attention span or time to commit to anything proper & decent....

Wait, the kid is Canadian? Whaaaat?
I could have sworn I heard the broadcast crew inform us that Brett Lawrie was Canadian.... but that can't be right. Can it? Why haven't I heard that before?

OK, OK. But seriously now. I'm going to be completely honest with you when I tell you that my excitement for the beginning of the Brett Lawrie era has absolutely nothing to do with his passport. I suppose for the casual fan, it's a nice background story and perhaps a reason to watch his debut and maybe follow the boxscores for a few weeks.

But if you're reading this, it's probably safe to assume you don't fit the "casual fan" label anymore than I do. Can I tell you what I love about Brett Lawrie in a Blue Jays uniform?

(preparing to be crucified in 3, 2, .......)

I love the fact that he plays hard. That's right. I said it. I just threw down the dreaded Reed Johnson defence. I, The Ack, enjoy watching guys play who steamroll down the baselines and don't much care what anyone else thinks of them if they happen to get a touch abrasive.

I mean, think about it. Why do we hate Pedroia so? Is it because he's mild mannered and respectful on the diamond? Of course not. It's because he plays the game with an edge.

Of course, there's an addendum to all of the nonsense above. All the hustle & heart (tm) in the world means nothing if the kid can't play. And it does indeed appear that Brett Lawrie can play a little baseball.

The Brett Lawrie era has begun. Long live Brett Lawrie.

.... but what of Lunchbox?
Jeff Blair makes me sad.

I don't need to read that, Jeff. I really don't.

A few quick "explanatory" comments in relation to my twitter feed....

i. I tweeted that in my opinion, I felt like the (mis)handling of Travis Snider has been the one big misstep so far by Alex Anthopoulos. Perhaps that was a little harsh (but c'mon man.... it was an emotional time), and I will be among the first to tell you that Snider looked lost in the batters box, fooled repeatedly by breaking balls and not squaring up fastballs. And maybe you've heard.... like no walks. Ever.

But the sudden about face - "we're at a point where roster decisions are based on performance" - seems both hypocritical and disingenuous. It wasn't but a few weeks ago that the front office boldly proclaimed that "they had to find out what they had in Snider" and he'd be given the rest of the season to show it. I can imagine Snider's confidence is borderline shattered knowing that he was given so little time to prove his Blue Jay mettle.

Where he goes from here.... I really don't know.

ii. I made reference to my disdain for the "cheering for laundry" analogy. Am I the only one who feels badly for Snider? Or do we all just live in a "HE MAKES MILLIONS OF DOLLARS TO PLAY A GAME AND IF HE CAN'T CUT IT, TOO BAD" world. Because that world sucks and you're rending your organ donor card useless, because clearly you have no heart. You are heartless. Without heart.

(yeah, I seem to have an emotional investment in Young Travis - so what?!)

Is it time to go internal with the closer?
Developmentally, I mean.

Look, I know that the best relievers are made from failed starters, and every effort must be exhausted in developing starting pitchers before shuttling them off to the 'pen.

But given the depth of the minor league system - specifically with pitching - doesn't it make a little sense to convert an Asher Wojciechowski or a Chad Jenkins (just examples for arguments sake) to the late innings now?

Because God help me, I can't take another season of the Jon Rauch Experience at the back end of the bullpen, nor can I stomach another BJ Ryan adventure (contract-wise) if that's the alternative. This "Plan B" strategy has been tough to watch here in 2011.

Then again, it did net us Colby Rasmus. So there's that.

Sometimes, hustle and heart matter

We do this weird thing in the blogosphere.

We greet schmucky slogans like "Hustle & Heart" with derision, probably more than is deserved (even if some gentle mocking is probably in order).

We like to claim that we don't care about clubhouse unity; it matters little to us if the roster is comprised of grade-A pricks, so long as they perform.

Well, you know? Fuck that. Can't we have both?

I'm an admitted softy to these kind of stories, probably moreso since my own baby son went through a life-threatening stretch of illness of his own. So if you're a heartless robot (and not in an awesome Halladay-esque way) who would gladly trade solid citizenry for thirty points of OPS, feel free to spend the next few minutes spending your time elsewhere. It's OK. I won't judge. Hey, some (most?) days I would too. But not today.

Not after watching Thursday's game and reading this story.

It's when reflecting on stories like these that the easy thing to say, the defacto attitude to have, is that baseball doesn't matter. And in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't really. It's not life or death. It's entertainment.

That's what ties all this together. These Blue Jays - Romero and Arencibia in particular - seem to get it. They really do. Maybe we're all just so jaded into believing that pro athletes are naturally arrogant and selfish in nature that when the players we cheer for seem to actually care, we're taken aback.

But tears and emotion don't lie. Romero and JPA could have given the standard quotes - "well, hearing that kind of story puts it all in perspective, y'know, so we just went out there and gave it 110% for the kid." But their actions on the field and reactions beyond it showed so much more otherwise.

I'm sure for many the biggest story was the Jays won the game and split the mini-set with the Rays. And that was all well and good, too. But part of the entertainment factor, for me anyway, is cheering for a group of players you can respect.

No matter the boxscores for the balance of the season, it doesn't look like that's going to be much of a problem at all.