Idiots Write About Sports

I’m pretty sure I’d never watched a complete Toronto Blue Jays game before tonight. We don’t see or hear much about the Blue Jays down San Diego way, what with the team playing a good half of its games in some foreign country somewhere. Then there’s the fact that, for the last decade or so, they’ve fostered a proud tradition of playing in the AL East and not being the New York Yankees or the Boston Red Sox. As a result, they end up with about as much time in the media spotlight as Rupert Murdoch’s little brother, Bruce, who hosts his own cable access flower arranging show in Brisbane.

But thanks to Wacky Uncle Bud and his interleague hijinks, I had the opportunity to enjoy my first Jays game this evening. And, like most things Selig has brought to the sport, it wasn’t very exciting. Toronto’s lineup did little to impress me, and the team’s overall performance was middling at best. About what one would expect from a team bringing to town a .433 percentage and a four-game losing streak.

In fact, if I had to pick one thing I like about the Toronto Blue Jays, it would be this: as their pitcher leans in before starting his wind-up, the letters spelling out “Toronto” on his jersey wrinkle together, Mad Magazine Fold-In style. And when he stands just so, his shirt says “Toot”. Chalk it up to my desperation to find something to focus on other than San Diego’s rapidly tightening death spiral, but I found this endlessly entertaining.

Entertaining, but of very little consolation after Toot handed the Padres their sixth consecutive loss.