Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Yuey Forks

I don't even really know why I'm disappointed. I've never seen Yu Darvish play. Maybe he is sliced bread. Maybe he is rancid sashimi. Maybe he pitches forkballs so disgusting major league batters are made to cry. Maybe his arm falls off in his first start in Arlington.

I think I'm disappointed because I was excited. I think I was excited because something was happening. And it was happening to/for us. For Jays fans! You know us, we're the pudgy kid picked second-last in the AL East gym class (sorry O's). Who knows if his addition would vault the Jays from a .500 team to a .520 team? It was just... it was just nice to be relevant. To be striving. And, yes, the chattering became unbearably obnoxious. You couldn't have paid me with enough rotund first-basemen to get me to listen to Jays Talk last night.

But isn't being unbearably obnoxious part of what thrusts fans into the big-time? I mean, no one can stand Sox or Yankees or Cubs fans because of their irrational responses to any move or potential move. In a city where anything but hockey is relegated to under-card status, why not get all hot and bothered over a rumour, an idea, a gamble? We are goddamn serious about the Toronto Blue Jays. We want our owner to spend (wisely) our GM to best his adversaries and our team to kick the living shit out of the rest of the American League. We're a loud, passionate, growing fan-base. And, as it turns out, passion isn't polite and it isn't circumspect. It's loud-mouth assholes whining on Twitter and on the FAN590. This is the big leagues, kids. Let's play ball.

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