Schtuff.

Despite some stellar defense from the Jays, today's 7-6 win over the Yankees was a little uglier than it needed to be. A balk, two hit batsmen, a run walked in, and some pretty psychotic umpiring didn't interfere with Ricky-of-the-Year Romero earning another win.

God, I hate the Yankees and their ballpark.

I have to say, though, in John McDonald's defense: I'm not sure we can credit the bizarre physics of New Wankee Stadium for his home run. The wind was blowing in FROM left field, and that's where J-Mac deposited Pettitte's 3-2 offering. Let the man relish in his 'no-doubter', as dubbed by the Yankee's broadcasters.

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Courtesy of the drama ensuing in my backyard over the last week, you are all now cursed with seeing a baby blue jay pic every time a rookie makes a debut.



...and courtesy of young Mr Mills having bruised ribs (!?), tomorrow's victim of being thrown into the deep end of the pool is... Marc Rzepczynski. (How's that name for a rainbow across his back from one hip bone to the other? Hell, I had to get 'Richmond' in children's sized letters...)

Zep (can we just call him that?) becomes the fifth baby jay to make his ML debut this season, breaking the club record set in the 1977 inaugural season.

Break a leg, kiddo. WAIT - I take that back. I should just say, "good luck." Don't break anything, for the love of gawd.

Random musing, and because I'm not a Real Blogger™, I couldn't be bothered looking this up: has there ever been a team with all five starting pitchers being rookies, even very briefly? The Jays have come close: with Halladay on the DL recently, the Jays were down to Tallet as the only non-rookie starting pitcher.

Michael Barrett is now off the DL. Funny, I was just wondering yesterday if his rehab was being (cough) extended due to coming down with a case of Raul-Chavez-being-awesome-itis. I must say, I'm liking the way Chavez wakes me up in the middle of not-paying-attention-to-the-game with snap pick-off throws.

For Dave

This is where I was supposed to get all sanctimonious about going to last night's game. It bugs me that 43,000 people will show up for the sole purpose of booing AJ Burnett, while it seems to be too much trouble for people to go to a less expensive game to see arguably equally-good baseball, and cool bonus shit like seeing these rookie pitchers make their major league debuts. I thought I'd put my money where my mouth is instead of bitching.

Worst mistake I've made in quite a while. Not only did the game suck, but I sat next to the most stank-ass dude in the building (second only to Scott Richmond - heeeey-oh!), I got rained on, and my bus was ridiculously late both ways.

4:
- The number of innings people had to wait in line for beer on Tuesday, according to the girl working the beer stand.
- The number of seconds I waited to bolt out of my seat and get to the beer stand after Scott Richmond melted into a pile of suck.
- The number of beers I had and, sadly, still remembered the second inning.

Here's one positive tidbit: during warm-ups, Michael Barrett was up and swinging the bat around a little. That was nice to see.

I'm going to Monday's game and I think I should find some Ativan.

Oh Ye Of Little Faith...

I confess, I didn't want to listen to the game on the radio tonight while I was at work.

(Scott Richmond) - (Michael Barrett) + (opposing team with hot offence) = ( ) and LJ being too nervous to get any work done.

But damn, I did the 6-49 Happy Dance around the office when I checked in online to see the box score and saw Richmond's line. I just about melted in my chair when I got home and saw the montage of nasty strikeouts. Even Mike Wilner is having himself a cuppa Koolaid.

It's easy to forget that although Richmond is 29, he's still a rookie and still on the learning curve. He had years off of baseball; it's not like he was burning his arm out sucking for a decade.

I absolutely love it when guys perform beyond expectations and silence the impossible-to-please negative asshats. I firmly believe in fair criticism, but like I always say, let 'em play the damn games. You can not know for certain what is going to happen, so if you can't be open-minded, shut up.



I went to a pair of autograph signings this week. Long story short: (a) even the least enthusiastic Jays were polite; most were sufficiently smiley and fun, (b) Scott Richmond was very smiley and fun, despite yours truly being a great big giant dorkwad, and (c) Michael Barrett is made of 100% awesome. Judging by the gesturing and goofy photo poses, I have some hope that the baseball gods answered our prayers and his shoulder isn't as bad as originally thought.

Dear Baseball Gods

Please give the man on the left a break. He's already broken his junk, then he broke his face. Can you make this one not nearly as bad as it looked? TIA.