Yelling at the TV – A Blue Jays elegy

“My name is Ken.”

“Hi Ken.”

“I am a Blue Jays fan.”

“Well that sucks.”

It sure does, these days at least. According to Gregor Chisholm of the Toronto Star, “This (past week) was supposed to be a statement week for the Jays. Instead, it might be the week they gave the Rangers a second lease on life.” Still chasing a wildcard spot for entry to the post-season, this four-game series with the Texas Rangers was supposed to bolster the Jays tepid win numbers in what has been another lackluster season for Canada’s only MLB team. As someone posted yesterday on Facebook, “it’s just too painful.”

I am admittedly a fair-weather fan, and a very recent one at that. I am not athletic in any sense of the word, but brilliant television production values, complete with informative commentary, strike zone illumination, ball speed measurement, and excellent field video coverage, all these provide excellent access for this particular legally blind viewer.

Baseball is so dramatic— It’s great theatre—pitcher-versus-batter, a present-day gladiatorial contest—Lion 1, Gladiator 0—with more statistics than Google Maps can manage—and yes, Google does provide ball flight-path data. The game is shorter now, by as much as a half hour per game. As I record the games and watch thirty or minutes late, I can fast-forward through the ads; I can also choose to watch only the Jays at-bats. I can watch an entire game in forty-five minutes, but only if I can tough out all nine innings.

So here’s the problem. They keep losing, horribly so, including today’s game. Sure, you get a win or two, but the next day the doldrums return. Something goes horribly wrong; or everything goes wrong—inconsistent pitching, too many fielding errors, miscalculations at bat, injuries, poor match-ups. I don’t know enough about the game to offer specific analysis—I suspect a new coach or general manager may be in the works. I can only say that I join many over the years who end up yelling at the TV. “Golly” we cry. “Let’s go boys.” And in the heat of the moment, “drat.”

Now don’t shoot the messenger or punish the TV. It’s not Sony Bravia’s fault. Sports however is built on a foundation of competition, and we, I, do like to win, or at least feel like we are on the winning team. I often wondered about the poor chap on ABC’s Wide World of Sports. Each show opened with the same poetic verse:

Spanning the globe,
To bring you the constant variety of sport
The thrill of victory
And the agony of defeat.

(Cue: Howard Cosell)

I wonder about that poor ski jumper who crashes, each and every week, in Technicolor, sustaining the same serious injury—broken ribs, lower back problems, and most likely a head injury—did he even survive I wonder? Each and every week, somewhere in Western Europe, children watch the show, and call out to their crippled father, “Dad, you’re on TV again.”

Dark humour I know, but I you, what are the reasonable limits of sports, especially in the present age of extreme sports? Humans have always struggled against one another. In my youth I attended a small boys school where character was supposedly developed on the sports field. For me personally, this was problematic. I rarely if ever achieved the thrill of victory, the essential win, the confidence of one who slew the gladiatorial lion.

Prior to the start of the Rangers/Jays four-game series in Toronto, when it was widely expected the Jays would trounce the Rangers and advance past Seattle, Oakland, Boston and Texas in the AL rankings, their coach was asked what it was like “to be a spoiler.” His reply was quite lovely. He said that yes, he wished he and his team were “on the other side” but in such situations he liked to think that every game had value. So even when the outcome is clear (never say never) the way you play matters. Well said man; the results say it all. So what to do with the Jays? And how might we understand their propensity to offer wins to so many other teams. I have a suggestion; but first, a story.

Martin, a close friend from university days married a lovely Mennonite woman, Karen. Karen was Mennonite, from a long line of peace-loving non-violence practising religious Christians. Many waves of Mennonites found their way to Canada during the past 150 years, some landing in Leamington, Ontario—the town with the giant Heinz Ketchup bottle (that’s another story for another time). They were farmers, who lived close to the land. They lived their faith in light of ethical principles which included pacifism and abstinence from alcohol and tobacco.

While courting, Martin would often go down to Leamington and spend time with Karen’s family. They would often play games after dinner. They would often play Trionomos (Dominoes was a pub-game unsuitable for abstainers). When playing the game, if a participant made a mistake, another player would suggest a better move. Winning was not the object. Character that he is, Martin would often try to lose.

So that’s it with the Jays. For some unknown reason, they must be trying to lose. Publicity stunt? An attempt to pay players less? An overreaction to the excesses of professional sport? I can think of no other explanation. Can you?

That said, I will now save this file and go down, ready to yell at the TV. My phone tells me that they are well on their way to a 10-0 loss.