There’s only one word that describes the ambitions of the 2023 Blue Jays: REDEMPTION

The 47th season of Blue Jays baseball is about to commence in St. Louis (weird). Subjectively, they’re a damn good team and the champagne of World Series contenders.

If I was able to read minds, I would be very rich. But I am not, fortunately and unfortunately. Therefore, I can only imagine what’s on the players’ minds. Hopefully, the collective thought is based on one word: REDEMPTION.

The way last season ended was horrifying. It took me several weeks to thaw out from that painful experience. I was only four when the 1987 Jays fell apart and didn’t experience it as it happened. For me, game two’s shocking collapse against Seattle was my 1987.

The returning players are a different story. Maybe getting swept by the Mariners lives “rent free” in their heads. Maybe the shame made them train harder. Wishfully, redemption is their motivation; not only for how 2022 concluded, but for individual performances that became hot-button topics.

At the end of the season, I want Jose Berrios to stand up and say “Fuck you! I am worth that contract.”

At the end of the season, I want Yusei Kikuchi to stand up and say “Fuck you! I am an all-star starter.”

At the end of the season, I want Nate Pearson to stand up and say “Fuck you! I am living up to my potential.”

At the end of the season, I want Cavan Biggio to stand up and say “Fuck you! I do belong on this team.”

At the end of the season, I want Bo Bichette to stand up and say “Fuck you! Not only am I a phenomenal hitter, but I’m also a stellar shortstop.”

At the end of the season, I want the entire team to stand up and say “Fuck you! We’re not choke artists.”

And remember, it’s a long season. Redemption is not instant. It’s a process. Keep that in mind as we ride the peaks and valleys.

Thank you to Mr. Heyman for this post’s inspiration.

Blue Jays ’till I die.

ER

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Oh no! I think I’m falling in love with the Pitch Clock

Wouldn’t call myself a purist, but I don’t always welcome change either.

And that’s what’s coming this season: Change with how and how long the game is played. Bigger bases, the banishment of the shift and a 15-20 second timer. Not a fan, but I accept them.

Bigger bases? Sure, nothing wrong with that. Keeps the players safe. Banning the shift? Okay, if you insist. Never saw anything wrong with the strategy, but others did. Pitch clock? I get it, but…come on!

When MLB announced the pitch clock was being implemented, it felt like a nightmare had become a reality. Baseball, a sport that moves at its own pace, was giving in to society’s need for all things quick and aggressive.

But now that the pitch clock has been used, it’s starting to grow on me.

Spring Training matches appear to be faster. Normally, they seem to drag on because of the multiple in-game changes. This year feels like the games are running – spit-balling here – two hours, 15 minutes at the minimum; three hours maximum. And I’ve noticed a difference between these exhibition contests and the World Baseball Classic.

Compare Team Canada’s four games against the Spring Training contests the Jays had on the same day:

Date	Canada	Blue Jays
March 12	3:38 (7 innings)	3:03
March 13	2:20 (7 innings)	2:51
March 14	2:48	2:20
March 15	3:31	2:30

Of course, there are a variety of factors that contribute to the length of games. If we remove March 13, the Jays were quicker than Canada; a difference of 35, 28 and 61 minutes respectively.

That’s not to say the WBC was slow or boring. It was an entertaining tournament. However, not every regular season game is going to be an epic match. Some might drag on and for those, a pitch clock would be beneficial.

Players are also adapting to the clock and corresponding rules. Haven’t heard much outrage from their end and some – like Yusei Kikuchi – believe the clock will help improve their performance.

So, maybe the pitch clock will make baseball….better. You can still build drama, just in shorter increments. And let’s face it: We love baseball, but don’t always have time if a match is running long. We need to sleep, we need to work, we need to attend to the non-baseball fans in our lives!

Weirdly, it’s like the pitch clock and I are the main characters in a Hallmark Channel romance film.

At first, there’s tension! Neither the pitch clock nor I like each other. We’re adversaries with a similar goal.

But over time, the pitch clock and I learn to work with each other and discover we have much in common. The walls dividing us slowly break away. Feelings develop, but we are oblivious or stubborn to acknowledge them.

Suddenly, there’s a roadblock! Some form of adversity that drives the pitch clock and I apart: I don’t know…. Jordan Romano got penalized for not starting his windup in time, ultimately costing the Jays a victory.

But thanks to the power of love (for baseball) and help from supporting characters, all problems are solved and differences are set aside! Pitch clock and I reunite and live happily ever after!!!

Seriously though, while I’m developing a fondness for the pitch clock, I’m worried that the final out of a big game will occur because of a time violation. It’s a huge risk, but as players continue to adapt, one hopes the chances of such an outcome decreases.

It is certainly a process that will develop (or not) over 162 games and the postseason. Besides, you can’t rush love 😉

ER

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Oh snap! Has it really been 25 years since the INFAMOUS Tim Johnson managed the Blue Jays?

As individual seasons go, 1998 is a favourite of mine.

The biggest storyline that year was the chase to break Roger Marris’ single-season home run record. Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa captivated fans through the summer and into the fall (yeah, yeah, I know). Their efforts put baseball back in the spotlight after the awful 1994 strike severely damaged MLB’s popularity.  

Meanwhile, the ’98 Blue Jays were fun to watch for multiple reasons. They featured back-to-back Cy Young Award winners Pat Hentgen and Roger Clemens, with Clemens capturing his second straight award that season (yeah, yeah, I know).

The lineup consisted of young talent like Shannon Stewart, Shawn Green, Carlos Delgado and Jose Cruz Jr., as well as veteran all-stars like Jose Canseco (yeah, yeah, I know) and Tony Fernandez. You certainly can’t forget about 21-year-old Roy Halladay coming a few outs shy of a no-hitter or 40-year-old Dave Stieb making a comeback after a four-year absence. 

The ’98 Jays weren’t a playoff team and it didn’t matter. There was only one wild card spot at the time and those fecking Yankees ultimately steamrolled their way to a World Series title. They still won 88 games which, as the record books show, was the highest win total of any Jays team between 1994-2014.

However, the ’98 Jays will not be remembered for what they did on the field. Instead, they’ll be remembered for who captained the ship that year: The infamous Tim Johnson.

Johnson was hired after the Blue Jays parted ways with Cito Gaston following a lousy 1997 season. The whole managerial search under General Manager Gord Ash was intriguing for me. It had been a long time since the team had to undertake such a task.

Names were circulating the zeitgeist. The two candidates I remember hearing regularly were Larry Bowa and Buck Martinez. I was also secretly hoping Ash would hire Paul Molitor to be a player-manager, similar to what Frank Robinson did with Cleveland in the 1970s.

Ultimately, Johnson was chosen and it seemed like every commentator and insider was over the moon about the hire.

Johnson was portrayed as someone who FINALLY had a chance to manage a big-league club. He paid his dues; seven seasons as a player in The Show – including 111 games with the Jays from 1978-79 – and nearly 20 years as a scout and coach. His reputation appeared to be spotless and full of glowing reviews.

Seemed like a perfect match.

The team performed well overall. However, things in the clubhouse were apparently strained. Perhaps the best example of this comes from Jerry Howarth’s 2019 autobiography, Hello Friends! The former radio play-by-play broadcaster provides an interesting anecdote involving Johnson and Dan Plesac. Won’t spoil it for you, but it illustrates Johnson’s flaws.

And then, there was his false military service.

Johnson claimed to be a Vietnam War veteran. He also used his experience overseas to motivate and coach his players.

But it was all a lie. Johnson never saw any action overseas. The closest he came was being part of the Reserves.

As noted by Craig Calcaterra in a 2016 article about Johnson for NBCSports.com, it was Roger Clemens – of all people – who inadvertently discovered his manager was a fraud.

Clemens was organizing a birthday gift for Johnson; a motorcycle, along with a helmet featuring the logo of his military unit. Johnson’s wife, Patty, was contacted to find out what unit her husband was part of. Unaware of her spouse’s deception, Patty simply stated that Johnson never went to Vietnam.

From there, a small flame turned into an inferno. Johnson would eventually admit he lied and apologized. The reaction was swift and intense.

Those same insiders and commentators who were jumping for joy when Johnson was hired were now demanding for his dismissal. He became a repulsive character and was repeatedly skewered for his actions. As a goofy 15-year-old, the whole saga was confusing for me.

“How can they love him a year ago and hate him now?” I would ask myself. “He lied. So what? We all lie and he apologized! He’s a good manager and the team played well. Let the man do his job.”

Clearly, I didn’t understand the severity of Johnson’s error, nor did I understand life in general (still don’t after all these years). From a current-day perspective, this was cancel culture well before the term ever existed.

While many wanted Johnson fired, Gord Ash felt his manager was remorseful, ready to move on and capable of managing the team. But pressure intensified and Johnson was fired midway through Spring Training the following year. Jim Fregosi replaced him.

Getting fired was an immediate punishment, but the penalty was long-standing.

To date, Johnson has not held any coaching or managerial positions with MLB teams or their minor league affiliates. He has remained in professional baseball though. According to Johnson’s Wikipedia page, he has managed a collection of teams in Mexico and independent ball.

Very little has been written about Johnson since his dishonourable departure. A few years after his firing, he was the subject of a news feature that portrayed him as a tortured individual; a good guy who made a gigantic mistake. Whether that won any sympathy depends on whoever watched it.

Tim Johnson won’t receive the same admiration that past skippers like Cito, Gibby and Bobby Cox get from the fanbase. If anything, the Blue Jays will continue to ignore his time with the club; sweeping him under the same rug as Roger Clemens’ two Cy Young-winning seasons.

To this day, it’s still wild how quickly Johnson went from a well-respected coach to a vile individual. A part of me feels sorry for him, but it must be noted that he brought it all on himself.

I hope someone makes a documentary about Tim Johnson. One of those 30 For 30 types of films. The Jays might choose to avoid Johnson, but his short tenure was too colourful and controversial to fall into vast obscurity. It’s a story that needs to be told!

And if someone does pursue a Tim Johnson documentary and needs a little help, feel free to reach out to me. 😎

ER

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