Weekend Memories

Despite beating the Jays in two out of three games over the weekend, it’s pretty difficult to hate this Twins team.

From their best player diving head first to reach base on a single to scrappy defensive plays, the Twins are basically the team I wish the Jays were.

Friday night’s game, from what I understand, was basically the standard Blue Jays’ effort of average pitching and poor hitting. I was in the process of getting Wade Boggs drunk after work and so there’s a big chunk of unaccountable time for me. I may have watched some baseball, but it’s more likely I delved into more typical blackout behaviour . . . finding regrettable new sexual partners and insulting less intelligent people.

Saturday night’s game was disheartening and captivating all at the same time. It was a thirteen inning victory that had no business going thirteen innings. Jeremy Accardo and Casey Janssen reminded me of something my mother told me when I was three months old: “You can’t count on anyone.” Thankfully, Accardo and Janssen didn’t proceed to put cigarettes out on my arms, tell me I’d never amount to anything and cut my formula with bourbon. However, they did collectively blow a great pitching performance from Tomo Ohka (not a misprint).

While special mention is deserved for Alex Rios, Lyle Overbay and Jason Frasor (again, not a misprint), my personal player of the game is alcoholic Sal Fasano. He protected home plant like it was his younger sister’s ovaries, blocking not one, but two runners from scoring. And he’s got a wicked moustache.

Finally, on Sunday afternoon, the Jays bats were again as dead as my liver and sperm count, giving an undeserved loss to AJ Burnett, who despite a couple mistakes, threw more than 120 pitches in a gutsy performance. The Jays ended up losing 4-2.

The Good:

Alex Rios is playing like Vernon Wells should be.

Justin Morneau may be really fucking great.

The Bad:

The Jays hitting is terrible. They’re like that cutlet you’re friends with that’s a stone fox, but she keeps dating dudes at the lower end of the gene pool. I’m not just talking about assholes, I mean like really fucking weird looking dudes. Picture Paul Reiser with Larry David’s fake hair from Curb Your Enthusiasm when he was in The Producers. They both seem completely content to be slumming it.

The Ugly:

Me. I was basically deliriously drunk for three straight days and I have to say that I’m looking a little worse for wear right now. Unshaven and jittery isn’t a great look for me.

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