Maniwaki Mobile - Beneath The Cosmic Arch

Company was coming. So we cut the grass.

Now I Can Die In Pieces

Sometimes I begin these posts with a fitting line from a hardcore song. Today's post, however, begins with the name of one of these crews, so aptly named:

His Hero Died Today

That's right. Your worst fears and mine are now the dreaded, bitter, bitter reality.

Papi, Mighty Papi got pinched.

And motherfucker does this one ever hurt.

And as the baseball gods have such an incredibly cruel and twisted way to inflict their wrath on mere mortals when they want to, today they lined the Skip and I up in their sites and began to stock up on quiver after quiver of lightning bolts.

Let me elaborate. As it should happen mon frère and I were just about to embark on a multi-errand mission down St. Laurent. Just before we departed, I happened to punch up the ESPN, to see if there was any unfortunate late breaking news surrounding Roy.

What I found was more worse than unfortunate than you could possibly get at this point.

As the news was breaking, the top sideline headline read something to the effect of "Lawyer tell NY Post that Papi/Manny tested positive in 03."

No. Impossible. Forget it. I pretty much tuned in as it hit the site, as the main page hadn't shifted yet, and the story only had a few sentences basically reiterating the by-line.

Maybe there would be hope. Maybe it would turn out to be an unfounded claim. A crank, a plant, a fabrication. Just maybe.

We left and tried to shake off the news and got to work along the rue that we have got so much work done on, many times in the past. A successful trip to the butcher, a promising order at another one, a scheduled pre-wedding at the salon for Skip and myself.

And hey, look where we ended up. Le Pistol. The bar that so graciously appeared in 03 and eventually became the tavern for our post season hi-jinx that year. Even though it "wasn't a sports bar." Yet. And in the following year housed one of the most insane post season watching stints ever to host post season viewing. We watched the Sox come back from 3-1 in the ALCS for the ages there. We witnessed the 14 inning Papi walkoffs. For two straight nights. We saw the impossible as Curt pitched the bloody sock game. We went wild as the bearded Jesus Johnny Damon drove the final nail in the pinstriped coffin in Game 7.

Our roster at the time was also formidable. Dice C was in our company and was just rediscovering The Game. Gagne, then a student at McGill, was in true form saying very accurate and appropriate Gagne things at very appropriate and accurate Gagne times. There were a couple of gals from Boston who rooted along side us, as well as a very jovial Australian lad, who had just picked an incredibly great time to learn about The Game.

Every night we congregated at Le Pistol, (and eventually were ushered into a private back room which was officially "reserved for baseball.") and every night we cheered like our lives depended on it, as the Red Sox playoff lives and hopes for that elusive World Series in fact did. And every night they delivered in the most dramatic of fashions. And every night everyone just lost their minds and left incredibly drunk, incredibly happy and with shredded vocal cords.

It was The House That The Skip And I Built.

So we stopped in to scope out the scenario and have a chat with the owner, Andre (a huge Red Sox fan as well) who during those days was very gracious in facilitating our rowdiness in this non-sports bar enviro, to possibly arrange a pre wedding get together. And the piece of news he gave us, the second stunner of the day, was that Le Pistol would be shutting its doors for good on Saturday.

Incredible.

One of the baseball gods must have put down an empty quiver at that point.

After expressing complete shock and utter dismay and reminiscing on the days of Octobers past, we exited and continued on our errand running.

Went to finalize details with the wedding planner, and found ourselves in Old Montreal.

The last time I was in this neighbourhood was in '03 and drunkenly shaved my head with a Bick razor in solidarity with the Cowboy Up Red Sox team of the same season who would eventually set the table for the Idiots Of 04.

It was a time to revisit. We strolled past Notre Dame Basilica. Ducked into some winding rues. Viewed the St. Lawrence from the docks. It was as we were making our way back that I inquired about the legitimacy of the Papi claim. Still hoping it would be proven to be evil, vicious, nasty hearsay and malarky.

But no. The Skip did in fact confirm that it wasn't. That there was a full spread on the ESPN front page. Even Gammons had chimed in already.

There was no hope. Paps was done.

And so was our run with him. Literally. It was the end of an era. The end of a legend. It was pretty much the complete antithesis to the term, "good for baseball."

Much later in that night, the Skip and I decided that we had to go for one last drink and send the place off before it sank into St. Laurent lore. We entered and were greeted by a fine fellow from the Island no less, who commiserated with us, and brought us our final order of a Pistol Lager for the Skip and a Rousse for myself and a meat and cheese plate to share.

We reminisced on the many, many good times that the place gave us, ruminated on the Papi situation, and we gave the place its due. As much as you want to find positives, despite the harshest and bitter circumstances, sometimes you just can't. Sometimes you just have to sip your pint and tip your hat. And that's what we did.

"All great dynasties have to come to an end," I said.

To which the Skip replied the only sentiment that one could give at that time,

"Yup."

We thanked our host, and asked him to pass along our deepest appreciation to the rest of the staff for providing such a superb run. The Skip and I both took off our hats in respect and walked out the door.

...

....

Only to be greeted by a local lad wearing a Red Sox hat. Of which I commended him on. And to which he responded, "I like the Blue Jays as well," as he saw the "T" on my lid. And also went on to tell us of his tale of the baseball stars aligning at the right time, as his Mom had woken him up minutes before Joe Carter hit his jack. And to this day, he said, he still thanks his mom for bringing him to consciousness to see it.

If a collective consciousness surrounding The Game ever had a focal point, Le Pistol was definitely the Stonehenge.

And this lad's final words to us? As we were about to saunter down St. Laurent?

"Maybe I'll see you guys one day at The Expos."

Wow. Even when the game takes away so much it hurts, it still leaves the door open, just to make sure you come back through the turnstiles.

Le Pistol. RIP 2003 -2009. Long Live Les Good Times.

Let's see what the next chapter has to offer.

The Skip Strikes (Out) Again

So I just exited a very smooth Air Canada flight, complete with neckerchieved Quebecois stewardesses doling out cheese and crackers (there's something that makes a guy feel extra Canadian than to fly AC to Montreal whilst the Olympic specter hovers over the nation)nto be met by the one and only First Mate. Yup. The final stretch is upon us and the wedding bells in the distance are starting to ring a bit louder.

First stop. L'Orange Julep, a landmark drive through joint, built in the '40's. In the shape of an orange. And. On wednesdays, a full spread of hot rods sit on the parking lot, awaiting inspection by both patrons and passers by. It was like pulling up to Arnold's in Happy Days. Pure. Got one of the best OJ's I've ever had (fuck you Orange Julius you couldn't touch this) as well as a high octane poutine. Perfect.

Next stop. The Skip's league softball game in south Montreal. In progress. The second we stepped out of the car, it started to sprinkle, and maybe we should've taken this as a sign. As we approached the diamond, I noticed that the game was getting pretty intense as there was a lot of commotion. Some yells of joy. Some of agony. The teams were both cleated out in full unis and the pitches were not lobbed up the obligatory 6 feet. We were a long way from East Van drunk ball.

Whilst I had taken in games in prior years, I had forgotten how competitive this league is. Good for baseball. And as we took our seats, the opposing squad mashed a monster triple to take the lead in the game that the Skip's squad, The Resevoir Dogs, had previously been in command of.

Such is this game.

It can change with the weather.

So eventually the damage was limited to just a one run lead, with the Dogs up. And low and behold, the Skip was on deck taking a few practice hacks. After a few hoots from the stands, he stepped up to the plate. And god damn it if it wasn't '83 and this was the Junior Elementary center diamond wedged in between the corner hill and the roller coaster monkey bars.

First pitch. Strike. Looking. In the early days this pitch would've been left out of complete kindergarten era dread. In the latter years it was left so's to "have a look", and who knows maybe also as a tip of the hat to the past. Regardless. There's no way this ball sees the bat.

Second pitch. Fast and in for a strike.

Third pitch. Ball high.

Fourth. The genes kicked in and the cursed dribbler to first base. Which even looked to hold some promise as it was booted by the opposing 1B but then scooped up for the out.

Had to say, that I had to have a laugh at that one. I hit that ball during my entire Sasky little league career. I still hit that ball every week in East Van softball. In 20 years I'll probably still be hitting that ball. The Skip just hit that ball. Let's just say that our family has never been known for our power numbers. And that even if the Skip and I's names ever did turn up on the Mitchell Report, no one would ever believe it, probably dismissing the claim over the pool table ala Michael Madsen sluffing off Johnny Depp being revealed as the informant by the feds in Donnie Brasco.

The next Resevoir Dog drew a walk and the hitter after that took the count to full.

Before striking out to end the game.

After some competitive cussing, and the ensuing post game regroup in the dugout, the Skip finally appeared.

"Was it the ump's fault?" I inquired as he approached the stands.

"Yup," he replied, "A floating strike zone that changed at the end of the game! I was six feet away from the plate!! Be consistent!"

So we packed up the car and went to get ice cream.

Recovering At Home

Ok, we're back. I'm really hung, sweating Red Hook and watching the Mariners beat up on the Jays. Such was not the case last night. Light years beyond insane. And the post is going to be an epic undertaking. I really don't know when I'll get to it, as the next few weeks are going to be pretty action packed. I'm jetting off to Montreal tomorrow for the Skip and First Mate's wedding! The time is upon us!

However I will dim the theatre lights and roll the trailer for Dice C and mine's epic ride through the Northwest. Here are the highlights:

1. Very friendly border guards. A good sign.

2. No news is good news. Roy is still a Jay.

3. An pitching match up of blazing young guns. Rookie Romero vs the previously undefeated in 12 games, King Felix.

4. The first pitch call of Marco Scutaro going 4-4. Which he eventually did.

5. This coupled with the Jays offensive outburst causing Dice and I to become baseball hooligans, attempting to incite our heavily loaded section of Jays fans to rally round the firm...errr..team.

6. Ken. Griffey. Jr. stepping into the batters box. In Safeco. In Seattle. Ridiculously good for baseball.

7. Local Canadian kid, Ryan Saunders, from Victoria starting in left for Seattle.

8. Incredibly pleasant Seattlites everywhere you turned. Anyone that says that Americans are rude has not been to the west coast.

9. An even nicer elderly lady from Barrie Ont, who was attending her very first Jays game in person, pulled Dice and I aside after the ninth to tell us that she got a kick out of our antics and that it made her night enjoyable. Unbelievable this game is sometimes. No, thank you Mrs. Parker. You made our night. And you are extraordinarily good for baseball.

10. A stroll in the wrong direction which eventually ended up getting us turned around and into the most rocking bar in Seattle on a Monday night. Picture the Seattle version of Coyote Ugly, packed with western Canadian Jays fans all hooting and hollering while Maxim magazine level bartenders line dance on the bar.

11. Viewing a digital pic of Sportsnet's Jamie Campbell having a beer with the one of said Jays rowdies at the same bar, as even the notorious straight man couldn't be contained on this night.

12. Attempting to crash Nikki Sixx's hotel party after he and his entourage exited the Crue tour bus and into l'hotel.

13. A killer hangover and a crazy morning as the Dice-mobile suffered from alarm failure. Or should I say didn't. Loud horns for three minute stretches do not go well with a pounding headache.

14. The most insane IHOP breakfast spread that you could ever behold. Marysville. You never steer me wrong.

15. Crossing back over the border and home. Mission accomplished.

And this was the abbreviated version.

Maniwaki Mobile - Safeco In The USA

31 miles to Seattle. We've got half a tank of gas, a full pack of
cigarettes, it's bright out but we're wearing sun glasses. Roy needs
our help. We are en route.

Batista Game Cast!!

A glimpse of things to come tomorrow?

Batista just took the hill at Safeco and before I could log in, he gave up a double to Shin-Soo Choo. Good to see things are rolling along already.

Here's the sitch. 8-2 blowout for the Indians, a hit Cleveland batter in retaliation to some Mariner getting plunked last night, a couple lads off the bench but nothing major.

Shin's on second.

Ryan Garko flies out.

Jhonny Peralta's up. Ground ball back to Batista. He actually fields it and throws a strike to Branyan at first. Amazing. Two gone.

Batista sets, winds up and delivers.

Seattle announcers: Nice play by Johjima, that pitch was waaaay inside.

Me: Just wait.

[CRACK!!!!]

And guess what? Hafner just went yard to cash in Choo as well as himself. I continue to be absolutely floored, yet completely maniacally entertained at the same time. Unbelievable. He never let's you dow....

OH MY GOD!!!!!!! BACK TO BACK JACKS!!!!! BEN FRANCISCO JUST BELTED ONE OVER THE WALL!! WHO IS BEN FRANCISCO?!!! UNBELEIVABLE!!! BUT YET SO PREDICTABLE!!!!

Announcers: Batista getting battered again!!!!! Pitching has been the problem as the Mariners are dead last in ERA.

There are actually boos coming down from the usually very cordial Safeco stands. Poor saps. And I thought it was tough being a Jays fan.

Jamey Carrol strikes out.

What more can I possibly type? Just stunning. I have watched him on the tube. I have watched him live. He never ceases to astound. He never quits. He never disappoints.

Every time he takes the hill my friends... Every time.

Sinking Skydome

Jesus Christ.

I left the house over an hour ago as the Jays were up 9-1 in the fourth against Tampa. Figuring this game was in the bag, I went and had a great breaky at the diner on Granville St with Brother Carn and the Spouse. Casually sauntered home in the sun and did some more puttering about the pad. Decided to check the Maniwaki Fantasy squad score only to see that B. Upton was still batting for my opponent.

No. Couldn't be. Must be a mistake. I must have read it wrong. It must be Justin Upton up for the D-backs right now.

Nope.

Right now it's the top of the 11th. BJ has gone 3 for 6 against the Blue Jays and the score is now tied. at. fucking. nines.

At this point, I might honestly cheer for the Mariners when we hit the game on Monday.

I Am Doing Better Than JP

So Roy pitches what could potentially be his last game at the SkyDome and the fans give him ovation after ovation on the spectacular 10 K no decision. Is this guy the class act or what? He goes and navigates through the post game press conference essentially having to cover up for the recent blunders of his GM. (Who should be wearing size 21 1/2 shoes and a squirting flower.)

Honestly how much more can JP shoot himself and the Jays in the foot? Just when you think he's out of ammo, he loads the shot gun and fires the most brutally amateur of media soundbites re: the potential trade. Essentially refuting what he said before about Halladay requesting a trade, by basically stating that Doc submitted a list of potential suitors of teams at the beginning of the season at the Jays request.

Then.

He goes on to say that the Jays can't possibly retain Halladay as he has requested to test free agency next year. Live on TV.

Is he a fucking moron? What better way to decrease the value of the BEST PITCHER IN THE GAME by basically saying that he'll be on the open market anyways next year. This is a far cry from "we're open to listening to offers for Halladay."

So what do we have now? A complete media circus, a predictable yet infuriating Jays squad falling out of contention faster than the Nationals April sched, and a GM who I am convinced has lost all hope of building a winner and is basically telling the world, "We suck, might as well start sewing the "T" on Pirates style flat hats."

Never have I been so completely aghast at the front office. Christ I have Halladay on my Team Maniwaki and just for the fuck of it I've posted him as available. And I'll tell you this. The offers I'm getting are way better than JP's.

Break From Doc Trade Ticker...

...fuck I can't take anymore. What else is going on?

.... Hurly Buehrle! A perfect game! Never mind Kevin Costner. Mark Buehrele twists up the grandest of games in his mind numbing 27 straight out performance over the Rays. Even more staggering. Ninth inning defensive replacement, Dewayne Wise's, cape donning catch to preserve perfection for Buehrele. Already with two no-no's under his belt (and even a jack!), this perfect outing warranted a call from the Commander in Chief White Sox fan, President Obama. What next for Buehrele a week in Aruba with Bar Rafaeli?...


....However there's trouble in Chi-town as Marion Hossa is going to start the first year of his massive 12 year contract on the DL. Looks like the good times are over in Blackhawk-ville. They'll have to wait until Hossa's contract expires before they get even a sniff of hoisting The Cup. GM Stan Bowman must have taken a baseball bat into a house of mirrors by signing "Cup Kiss Of Death" Hossa. And this shoulder surgery to kick shit off only confirms it. Talk about 12 years bad luck...

...Rzepczynski shits his czynski as he battled wildness in the eventual 5-4 loss to the Indi..(oh for fuck's sakes)....

A Change Of Approach

Ok both Wells and Rios each crank one over the blue wall and Marco Scutaro breaks out for two? Have they been heeding my pleas? Have they been taking that extra BP? Has Scutaro taken a recent trip to the Dominican that we don't know about? Nahh....

Well whatever, I'm not complaining. Hey, if they're putting an extra helping of spinach on their dins or reading Anthony Robbins or doing tree pose in between innings or whatever, I don't care. Let's keep this shit going.

The New Deadline

So JP let everyone know that the deadline on Doc is going to be July 28th. Dice and I are going to the game the day before. Best case scenario? The Jays go sit 5 back of the Wild Card, Wells is hitting the shit out of everything and Doc is still a Jay. The worst case scenario? A multi player trade with Seattle that sees the Jays reacquire Miguel Batista in the process. And he suits up in relief at the Game as Dice and I run screaming from Safeco, right into a speeding Amtrack train.

Never Mind Wells...

...if anyone deserves an 11 mill per season contract extension it's Steve Nash.

The Campaign For Doc-tober

Ok look, you don't want Roy to leave. I don't want Roy to leave. The guy goes out today and pitches another absolute gem of a game, beating the best team in the East and making their dreaded line up look like bantams. The Skydome fans were absolutely delirious, practically falling from the upper decks as Halladay dominated inning after inning, hurling yet another complete game in the process.

I, like you, am asking myself:

How can this be ending?

And moreover, how can we let the squad and front office know that we are light years beyond unimpressed that we are about to see the greatest player to ever suit up for the Jays get shipped out?

By making a case for Doc-tober.

That's right. Halladay just wants to win. And who can blame him? He's never pitched in the post season wants to see how he fares. He has said many times that the ideal situation would be to see the World Series back in Toronto.

Works for me. I'd much rather see a contending Blue Jays team that can keep top talent. Do we really want to see them become the Pittsburgh Pirates? Or even more tragic, dare I say, the Montreal Expos?

So my pitch is this. Click this poll to let JP and the Jays know that we want a winning team THIS YEAR to keep Doc in the Dome. We are only 10 games back of first, and 9 out of the Wild Card. It's not impossible. It's only mid July. There's a lot of baseball to be played. But the critical time is now before the trade deadline. If the Jays can put together a winning streak and get back in the hunt, we might see October bunting for the Blue Jays yet again.

Sick of Vernon Wells striking out? Click the poll to let him know you want him to take some extra BP. Worried that JP isn't actually able to make a deal of this magnitude? Click this poll to tell him, "Don't worry, you don't have to pull the trigger on Roy, but how about getting another starter for the push? How about two while you're at it?"

I don't want to see the Jays rebuild for the next seven years. I want the Jays to win now. And so does Halladay. And so do do you, so let's get to it.

Click and cast your vote for Doc-tober and let's tell the Jays we want to see this guy pitch in the playoffs already.

Holy Rzepczynski!

Yup. Leave it to the guy with the crazy unpronounceable name to get the big W.

And Alex Rios hit the go ahead RBI's? And then scored?

Holy Rzepczynski!

What next Doc pitches a no no tomorrow against the Red Sox which sparks a 20 game winning streak?

Holy Rzepczynski! Let's hope so!!

Lamenting The Old Days

They don't call them the dog days of summer for nothing. It's hot as a hell today, Arthur is passed right out on the couch, 12 different fans are going and I can barely finish typing this sentence without losing about 1 10lbs in water weight. Yup, it's toasty.

When I punched in the title to this post, I was all set to lament the good old days, when the Red Sox and Yanks were mediocre at best and the powder blue Jays were in the midst of another AL East Pennant chase, trying to keep Trammel and the Tigers at bay or trying to increase a slim lead over the Brew Crew.

Barfield would gun guys down at the plate with his bionic arm. George Bell would hit the shit out of everything. And Dave Stieb would adjust his cup 10 times an inning before sitting down AL batters.

Exhibition Stadium was routinely packed, the vendors threw pretzels and chipwhich's out by the cooler, and there was always a buzz around the Jays in T.O. The playoffs weren't just a rarity, they were expected. And each year, you knew we were getting closer to that World Series Banner. It was the closest that Canadians could expect to being Yankess fans.

As I flipped on the game today, as the Jays wearing their retro powder blues took on the Red Sox, I couldn't help but feeling a sense of nostalgia for the old days. It was the second, we were already down by two runs, picking up where we left off in the first half. Our 100 million dollar centre fielder is sick but able to come off the bench to pinch hit, hopefully raising his average to .265 on the season, and we are about to deal away the best player ever to wear a Jays uni because our GM has been unable to surround him with a winning squad. Despite being given a ton of cash, and 8 years to do so. Are place in the standings is the same it's been during the same time span. "Hovering around .500, 10 games out of first."

So now that I've vented and lamented, I do have to say that there are some bright spots. One at least, and his name is Ricky Romero. This young gun, drafted in the same class as Tulo and Longoria, is making a solid case for Rookie Of The Year, and is making these mighty Red Sox batters look silly.

It's a sight to behold. I think he just K'd three in a row. A very rejuvenated Papi, being the last. If for whatever reason, the baseball gods, manage to either bestow on us:

1. A stunning run until July 31st, throwing us into contention, forcing us to keep Roy for the remainder of the season. Or;

2. A divine clarity granted to JP in which he manages to orchestrate the deal of the century for Roy, dumping off Rios and/or Wells in the process.

Then this Ricky Romero has got the stuff to be our future ace, and all is not lost. Because wow, is he pitching a dandy of a game. Just a dandy.

Here's To The Old Guys

Look, I ain't getting any younger. It's not that I think that I'm over the hill or anything, but a guy in his mid 30's has to go about doing things a little different than he did a decade ago. Yeah, I watch what I eat a little bit more. Sure I hold off on the booze considerably more. Yes, I look a little bit longer before I leap. And yes I try and limit the amount of impact on the joints. (Believe me, years of skating and karate have taken plenty a toll on the system. After I got an MRI a few years ago the doc asked if I played outfield for the Mariners during the days of astroturf in the Kingdome.)

Some activities have even had to be dropped completely in favour of lesser impact pursuits. While attempting 10 stair ollies (and routinely missing. see above) are a thing of the past, snowboarding and mountain biking are still fair game. The East Van softball league is definitely a Sunday summertime blast. Modified martial arts training in my building's gym is in zen balance and harmony with my previously ailing hip joints.

And I have started to really admire the athletes who are still not only competing, but making a solid case for themselves well into their 40's. Chris Chelios, Randy Couture, a slew of MLB pitchers (the Unit, the '90's Atl staff, Curt) even Brett Favre (although I wish he'd do us all a favour and make up his mind once and for all.) The way these guys have been able to change their game plan to still get that "W", defying the odds is really inspiring.

I mean hell, I even have to admit this: "Rocky Balboa" was on last night and god damn it if I didn't have to stay up and watch the whole thing, and of course rooted for the 60 year old Stallone as he smacked sides of beef and ran up the Philly art gallery stairs one last time.

And with Philly in mind it's time to weigh in on Jamie Moyer of the Phillies. Last October, the then-45 year old really impressed me in the play offs as I was convinced he was going to get absolutely shelled every time he took the hill. Surely Manny would crush the old dude. Surely Longoria would chase him out of The Bigs and send him packing to a "rest facility" somewhere in the desert. Yet somehow, the crafty old vet held the line and put together a pretty respectable post season stint. Even got a Series ring out of it.

So because there's no Jays game today, the Sportsnet decided to broadcast the Phills at the very empty Pro Player Stadium in Florida. And lo and behold who was starting this game but Moyer. As I was just leaving work around the first pitch I thought to myself, "Hey it's Moyer. That guy that had a solid playoffs last year. He even earned him a spot on the Maniwaki rotation for a few weeks this year and did pretty well. Wouldn't it be something if he threw a no-no today?"

And then I exited and zipped around the seawall Balboa style with my faithful companion, Arthur. Only to come home, flip on the SI.com to find this.

Good show old chap.

Pedro's Back!!!

And Big League Ball is all the better for it! Bring on the midgets in the locker room and the mango tree quips as the newest Philly just made NL East interesting again.

Sympathy From The Devil

When the Skip and I took our epic swing through the North East last year, one thing that I really dug was that the residents of this neck of the woods, really know their baseball. They follow baseball, they talk baseball, they go to baseball games. They are knowledgeable on history, stats, controversial plays and prospects. In Canada, ball does have a great following, but we all know that it will always take a back seat to l'hockey.

And that's fine. However, it was in the beer lineup in Yankee Stadium, as I corkedly exclaimed to mon frere, "Hey these New Yorkers are in fact really friendly. And they sure know their ball."

At which some drunken pin striped local turned around and said, "Hey thanks," and then shuffled up the stairs to with his franks and brews and thick accent. Now while it's no secret that I have no love for the Yanks, I do respect the significant force of their organization and how it has imprinted itself not just on The Game, but on sports in general.

And how it has helped foster the aforementioned passion and knowledge of those local ball fans and media so that you can get pretty accurate articles like this one. To paraphrase Flava Flav:

"Here's a column from the New York Post."

Which is really quite good. Especially items #1. Sympathy from the big apple. I never thought I'd see the day. As is #3, as I thought these hi-jinx only occurred in fantasy leagues. The only wayward tun is in #4 where he puts Roy and Felix Hernandez in the same sentence.

But overall a pretty solid read. JP, please take heed. Or get a ghost GM to do the dirty deal for you.

All Star Announcements

Some media at the pre-game press conf today before the big hullaballoo tomorrow.

Right on Joe Maddon for giving Doc the nod to start the show. Now here's a baseball manager who knows the game. He knows that Roy is a perennial all star, who finally deserves the chance to throw the first pitch. And he also knows that Zack Grienke is the Cliff Lee of this year. There's a reason the Rays won the Div last year and made it to The Series.

Fuck you Bob Costas. Roy is still a Jays the last time I checked. And also to everyone else who's drooling over the possibility of reeling in Halladay. Know this. Any GM looking to secure Roy is pretty much going to have donate an organ to get him on their staff. And maybe 51% controlling interest of their eternal soul.

...oh look, the Nats fired their Manny-ger. Well at least their 26-61 record, and multi - error Actics can keep me amused and turn my attention away from the school of piranhas circling around Roy. Did you know that Ryan Zimmerman, the former highly touted prospect and squad's token all star attendee this year, has already put up 12 E's this year?

Just figured I should let you know.

Another Brief Pause...

...for the All Star break. And what better way to end a brutal losing streak, then by putting down the bats and gloves and taking a breather for a few days? Except of course for Halladay and Hill as they'll be playing on Joe Maddon's AL squad on All Star Tuesday. These two Jays reps however will probably do the squad proud in St. Louis and are far removed from the maladies that are currently afflicting the Jays.

Alex Rios and Vernon Wells, I'm looking in your direction. It is because of you and your insanely massive contracts that our bumbling GM now has to shop Roy around in an attempt to con some club into taking one of you along with. Or hopefully both. While your numbers thus far in this season are not atrocious (both eerily batting around .265 with 10 bombs) they are not typically not what you would expect out of your 3 and 4 hitters.

What's that? You've both been dropped to the 5 and 6 spot? Ok that makes more sense now.

However about of those hefty contracts... As the Jays are obviously not the Red Sox or Yanks, and will not be able to afford Roy if he goes into free agency as well both of you (who the squad is contractually saddled with. Thanks J.P.) someone's going to have to go. Since no one in their right mind is going to pay the 23 million per season that Wells will be owed from 2011 -2014, it's looking like Rios's mere 11.33 mill/season until 2015 might be an easier package to sell.

Ugh.

Who let JP have the keys to the car over the last few years? Talk about an incredibly, fiery car crash along on the Free Agency Highway.

So what's the best case scenario?

Wells smiles alot and Rios grows dreads, and have a phenomenal second half, becoming Papi and Manny of 04. The tandem both handily earn their spots back in the 3 and 4 holes, and propel the Jays to their first playoff appearance since 1993. All trade talk of Roy subsides as JP miraculously has a moment of enlightenment and holds the fort until the winter. When he manages to unload both Wells and Rios for close to market value, signing Roy to another contract extension.

Probably scenario?

Wells gets injured. Rios bats .211 for the rest of the season, the Yanks sign Roy and I start following West Indies cricket.

A Brief Pause...

Records are hallowed markers in sports. Gretzky's 50 goals in 39 games. Cal's Iron Man streak at 8243 consecutive innings over 904 games, Jonny Unitas throwing a td pass in 47 games straight. MJ and his 6 rings. These are the upper echelon of athletic achievement. Numbers that adorn the hall of the great sporting pantheon. Numbers that will most likely never be repeated.

Other records are noteworthy plateaus in an athletes quest to reach greatness. The five hundredth goal. The two thousandth hit. The twenty thousandth point. These stats provide a vista from which the athlete can reflect on both a solid campaign thus far while anticipating, hoping and preparing for greater things to come.

As I opened the site tonight, all set to chime in on UFC 100 (another milestone number for the relatively new sport) I realized that the Mauler has a number which too must be noted.

Here's to 666 career posts.

May this only be the beginning...

And From The Void, A Voice Of Reason...

Let's just share today. And take comfort in the fact that there are others out there like us.

The Wrong Side Of The Bed

So I'm hung over. Have a dog with no bortodello shot, and my website is still fucking down. Haven't checked the TSN yet, but I'm sure when I flip over, Roy will be wearing pin stripes.

Oh For Fuck's Sakes...

...looks like more connection issues. The electric bill's been paid so I'll try and find out who's jamming the Maniwaki transmissions. My guess is it's Selig.

Bracing For Impact

See, now this shit is starting to pick up steam. Thus it will only get stinkier and stinkier by the trade deadline, most likely resulting in the darkest and most vile day in Blue Jays history. And I'm old enough to remember '87.

If I may quote e-scribe, "forestforthe", who commented on the Sportsnet piece:

"I'd be open to dealing Doc if I thought that the Jays had a GM that could get full value for him but Ricciardi has shown time and again that he doesn't know the value of a baseball player."

Bang on dude.

Yes, JP has done a pretty good job stocking the system with young guns, and for that he gets a gold star. But when it comes to trading on the open market, he has proven that he should be wearing a dunce cap with the Jays logo on it.

Let's take a trip back through recent Jays history, reflecting on the likes of:

1. Kevin Mench. All I heard for years, was about how JP was drooling over Kevin Mench and how a guy like that would be a great addition to the Jays, but alas....Texas didn't want to give him up. Until he SYA (shit your Arlington) so bad that they traded him away, reacquired him from the Brewers, and then traded him to the Jays for cash considerations. In which he played 51 games, batted .243 and then got sent down to Triple A Syracuse. Dice just told me other day that Mench is now playing in the Japanese league. Maybe Kev should get citizenship and make a run at the next WBC title. Then again, they probably wouldn't want him on the national squad either.

2. Jeremy Accardo. Another highly sought after pitcher, that was trumpeted to help "put the Jays over the top" when he sailed into the Skydome from McCovey's Cove a few years ago. What has he done since, besides ride the subway on last season's "Jays Connected?" How about posting up a nice fat 5.97 ERA over 27 games the first year he was here. Then after a respectable 07, hitting the DL and stinking up the Skydome ever since. I saw him blow a real good one against the Yanks the other day, and the thing is it didn't even phase me. I've seen so much of his nonsense, I'm used to it already. While no one can ever take down the King, Accardo definitely makes me think Batista light when he takes the hill.

3. BJ Ryan. Look I like the guy, but there's nothing like having a 55 million dollar set up man on your staff.

4. Vernon Wells and Alex Rios. An actual quote from commentator, Jamie Campbell, the other day, after the tandem got back to back hits vs the Yanks. "Now how's that for your six and seven hitters coming through for you!!!!!" 126 mill over seven years for Wells and 64 over six for Rios. Someone please kill me. I could buy a better expansion team for less.

So it seems that for the Jays to really make a key splash before the trade deadline we should be demoting Ricciardi to head of scouting, while searching for a strong, savvy GM, as is JP is left to his own devices it will probably be announced on July 31 that Roy has gone to Cinncinatti for Bronson Arroyo, Willy Taveras, a second and third round draft pick and some of Pete Rose's sweaty old catcher's gear.

AN OPEN LETTER

Dear Senators fans;

If you thought Daigle, Emery, and Heatley were distracting and frustrating, just wait.

Welcome, oh welcome, to the Alex Kovalev era.

Sincerely,

the Skip

Get Me A Paper Bag

First I read this.

Then I see this.

So I figured I'd go for a walk. Only to have this track aptly come up on my iPod.

As well as this item wave at me from a shop window.

And this guy ask me directions to the nearest Skydome.

Hang The Architect

So the Roy and the Jays were winning and then Johnny Damon cracked a 2 run...

BAH!

(Garbage right field short porch to make room for more seating in the new and "improved" Yankee Stadium that's already seen more dings sail out of it this year than all of last.)

Wheel Of Eastern Misfortune

The Good. AJ got a win, and therefore got me a win for Maniwaki Fantasy. K'ing 7 in the process.

The Bad. Since he's donned his pinstripes, I've been unable to move him and have had the great misfortune of having a Bomber on the squad all year. To make matters worse today's win was against the Jays who now fall to 7.5 back of the Div leading Bosox. Was this to be expected on July 3, 2009? Sure if you asked me in the off season, I'd say it'd be about par for the course.

But.

In year's past we have traditionally played the AL East very well. And this year we got off to a big blue bang and held the lead for a few months. I know we can beat the East. You know we can beat the East. The only people who seem to think they can't beat the East is the Jays.

If this trend continues, I'm going to have a full roster of Nats on the fantasy team next year and the Jays will lead all the way up until September, but then go 0-28.

Let's get the lumber working lads.

Free Agency Fracas

So plenty to report from the brief holiday.

Some Triple A Bad News Bears antics at The Nat. A heated Canada Day ball game, in which Dice C and I revisited our Grade 5 selves. And of course the wild world of free agency, which has apparently plunged an icy dagger into the hearts of Habs fans.

This installment will focus on the recent free agency and the angst and hair pulling that goes with.

While the Skip and I conferred on the subject today, we seem to view this 2009 UFA round a tad differently. Most notably what Gainey's trying to gain in:

1. Montreal. More specifically Mike Cammalleri. While I think that this was a great pick up by the Habs, the Skip has put forth that he's over paid and only played well in a contract year having Jarome on the wing. A valid point indeed. But watching him last year against the Canucks (as well as following his play for Team Maniwaki) I have to say that this guy is not a flash in the pan. He's smart. He's skilled. And he plays with heart. He will deliver again. People of Montreal, be prepared to be pleasantly surprised. Especially after having to deal with Alexei Kovalev last year.

2. Vantown. When I woke up on Canada Day and read that the Sedins and their agent had hoodwinked Gillis into signing them for five years with a no trade clause, I immediately smashed myself in the head with my cup of coffee. Which was still full. Having visions of Naslund squared three years down the road, I questioned the GM's inability to read their obvious ploy to ask large and settle in the middle, wanting the middle the entire time.

But then when I read about some of the nonsense contracts flying around the league (ie Hossa getting 12 years from Chicago!!!) I was a tad more forgiving. It's not like I don't like the twins. They put up 160 points year in, year out. They're getting better each year. However, I look at our squad and ask if this truly a team that's going to put us over the top and bring us The Cup. After watching the Pittsburgh's and Detroits of the world (and their savvy drafting and deal making) the response is a resounding, "Nay." For at least the next 5 years and 60 million.

3. Cowtown. Fuck if I have to hear one more time about how Jay Bouwmeester walks on water and is the second coming of Bobby Orr, I'm going to go down to Cowboys, take Theoren Fleury sized doses of illicit substances, hijack a mechanical bull and ride that mecha-bronco down the red mile itself. Could the guy learn to speak in full sentences for god's sakes?

CANADA DAY (RED WHITE AND) BLUES

A note was received in my inbox today, courtesy of my good friend, neighbour, confidante, and Habs fan extraordinaire, Monsieur Cole. I thought it would be most appropriate to share....

Date: Wed, 01 Jul 2009
Subject: I think I am going to Barf

Saku is going to leave.

Komisarek is going to leave.

Higgins is gone.

Gomez and Kovalev are signed and maybe some pansy winer euro-winger and we are only a Carey price coke-frenzy away from the 2010 Stanley Cup.

Or maybe not.

The end of last season was the beginning of a very dark period for Montreal Canadiens fans...

I am crying inside.