Our intrepid Investigative Reporting Investigation Team has confirmed that the photo you see above is totally, 110 percent real.
The IRIT has also confirmed that Kate Upton is a lucky woman. A very lucky woman.
H/T: The greater Internet.
Over the past two years, we in Toronto had taken to calling John Farrell “President Farrell.” Fine, it was mostly only me who called him “President Farrell,” and I enjoyed it. Being a Canadian, I can admit it: I’ve always wanted a president. And Farrell was oh so presidential, especially when donned in a suit and tie. And, of course, there is his presidential jawline. As you can see, below, President Farrell has no neck, only a jaw.
President Farrell is, of course, no more, his term cut short, his office and administration abandoned in disgrace. And our Investigative Reporting Investigation Team’s Canadian office has secured for us a transcript of President John Farrell’s resignation speech, delivered to the Blue Jays front office, and broadcast live over the weekend at the SkyDome for a few select season-ticket holders.
Good evening.
This is the 19th time I have spoken to you from this office, where so many decisions have been made that shaped the history of the Toronto Blue Jays. Each time I have done so to discuss with you some matter that I believe affected the franchise’s interest.
In all the decisions I have made in my baseball life, I have always tried to do what was best for the Boston Red Sox; for Red Sox Nation. Throughout the long and difficult period of managing the Blue Jays, I have felt it was my duty to persevere, to make every possible effort to complete the term of office to which I, Alex Anthopoulos, Paul Beeston, and the entire front office agreed upon.
In the past few days, however, it has become evident to me that I no longer have a strong desire to justify continuing that effort. As you may have noticed, the Red Sox need a new manager. As long as they had a manager — yes, even Bobby Valentine — I felt strongly that it was necessary to manage the Blue Jays through to the conclusion of my contract, that to do otherwise would be unfaithful to the spirit of that deliberately difficult process that was my hiring and a dangerously destabilizing precedent for the future.
But with the firing of Bobby Valentine, and the mutual interest between the Red Sox and myself, I now believe that my purpose with the Blue Jays has been served, and there is no longer a need for the process to be prolonged.
I would have preferred to carry through to the finish whatever the personal agony it would have involved, and my family unanimously urged me to do so. But the interest of Red Sox Nation must always come before any personal considerations.
Just when I think the Internet can’t get any dumber, it goes and does something like this — JWerth Riding Things — and totally redeems itself.
Moments before this picture was taken, our Investigative Reporting Investigation Team has confirmed, Buck Showalter asked Dan Duquette, “Now do you believe in magic?”
Dan Duquette said, “I do, Buck. I do. Now come here.”
Image credit: Tony Gutierrez, of The Associated Press.
It’s an art, isn’t it, hitting a baseball. It’s poetry. See the ball, hit the ball, yeah, sure, but it’s so much more than that. Not that I’d know, or anything, but to the trained baseball observer, which, clearly, I am, it’s obvious. In order to send a baseball 400-plus feet, you’ve got to put your entire body into it.
That’s where the leg kick comes in. The leg kick is crucial. Essential. And Straw’s was beautiful.
H/T: Crack Attack!: “Visual Crack to feed all your addiction needs,” indeed.
Because the jerks at MLB Advanced Media don’t want us to have any fun, and pulled the video of Snider’s catch set to R. Kelly’s “I Believe I Can Fly.”
And because this catch needs to be watched, over and over and over again.
All praise be upon bonus baseball! for the GIFs.
In Toronto, Travis Snider is no longer our What If. He’s Pittsburgh’s now. But that doesn’t mean Blue Jays supporters aren’t keeping tabs on Snider. We are. I check his numbers. Every couple of weeks or so.
The Canadian Sports Media knows this. Over the past three days, Sportsnet, a subsidiary of Rogers Communications, who own the Blue Jays, released a three-part, in-depth interview series with Snider, written by Shi Davidi, one of the more respected and well-liked members of the Toronto Sports Media. It’s been almost two months since Snider was traded, but he’s anything but forgotten.
And then, today, The Snider Catch, because we needed another reminder. I watched it. Three times. I enjoyed it — I feel like there’s still some Toronto in Snider. I watched @TaoOfStieb ask for the video you see above to be made. I — we — saw the Internet deliver.
Acute grief lifts within six months, for most people. I read it in The New York Times. I figure it’s a lot less for sports grief, if I can call sports grief grief at all, because all of this is meant only to entertain us. That’s it, that’s all. I’ll be honest, though, I didn’t sleep much the night Snider was dealt. I simply couldn’t believe reliever Brad Lincoln was the end to a story that wasn’t supposed to end for years.
That being said, I want Lincoln to succeed; to dominate. For for the next four years. Life will be easier that way. And I want the same for Snider. He was just a kid, and we’ve all got to fail, at least once, along the way. Yet I can’t shake the feeling that no matter how Lincoln fares, I want the Blue Jays to be wrong about Snider. Everyone’s got a goddamned lesson to be learned.
Thanks to @alextushingham and @TaoOfStieb for the video.
You listen to FanGraphs Audio, so you already know that Dayn Perry’s next critically-acclaimed book, for which he received a substantial advance, is titled Business & F*cking: Secrets to Crushing the Competition in the Boardroom and the Bedroom. I know; I can’t wait, either.
While we wait, though, I’ve got good news: Our diligent, award-winning Investigative Reporting Investigation Team has secured for us the cover of Mr. Perry’s latest endeavor. Witness:
I first met Ace, the Toronto Blue Jays’ beloved mascot, in April, at The Only, a pub on the Danforth in Toronto’s east end, after a Wednesday night game against Tampa Bay, a 12-2 Devil Rays victory. He was wasted when I found him, seated alone at the bar; I’ll never forget it. After I introduced myself as a Blue Jays supporter who’d had a few pints of fine Canadian beer and wanted to say hello, Ace didn’t even look at me. Staring straight ahead, he took another shot of Jameson, and said:
Jesus Christ. I figured nobody would recognize me out here, out fuckin’ east. Can’t a man have a goddamned drink in peace?
It was funny because he was wearing his mascot outfit. He was Ace. He was dressed as a giant blue bird. And, I soon figured out, he needed someone to talk to. We drank until the early morning. That night, a tortured Ace let go of all that was weighing heavily on his feathered shoulders. Off the record, of course. Until now.
I kept in touch with Ace over the course of the season, and today, finally, he’s ready to to share his story. Representing NotGraphs’ award-winning Investigative Reporting Investigation Team, below is my conversation with Ace, who is so much more than a mascot.
Navin: Thanks for doing this, Ace. You know I think you’re very brave.
Ace: Thanks for having me, Nav. You don’t mind if I smoke, do you?
Honorable? Yes. Of course. But it’s the timing that bothers me. What if the Mets go, I don’t know, 18-2 down the stretch, and the Cardinals, Dodgers, Pirates, and, yes, even the Phillies collapse, and the Mets and Braves find themselves in a one-game, wild-card playoff at Citi Field. That guy’s going to feel pretty stupid chanting “LAAA-RYYY” then.
Image credit: Getty Images. Obviously.