I’m worried about the Blue Jays.

I’m worried about the Blue Jays.

Sure, I was also worried about the Blue Jays when three starting pitchers went down in the span of one short turn through the rotation. How bad can an oblique really strain?

It worried me more when the team couldn’t find anyone durable enough to last more than a couple of innings in their places.

I was worried when Jesse Chavez lost the strike zone in his first start, a start that he seemed to be breezing through, and never found it again. Ever.

I was worried when Luis Perez, too, reminded us about Tommy John.

I was worried when I realized I could remember staff ace Ricky Romero’s record being 8-1. The next thing I knew, it was 8-14.

I was worried when Jose Bautista tweaked his wrist. His face, twisting in pain, and the trainers, as they’d done so many times before this season, running out to the field to see what was happening.

I was worried when J.P Arencibia stayed in the game. Human hands aren’t meant to withstand that kind of impact. I broke my finger in Grade 8, catching a football in gym class. It wasn’t going 90 mph.

I was worried every single time Brett Lawrie got a little too passionate-aggressive on the field. We all saw the horizontal dive into the camera bay coming.

I was worried when both of the left-fielders, struggling to find a place in the big club’s line up were traded away on the same day for relievers I knew little about.

I was worried about the starting line ups where Edwin Encarnacion was the only man standing from opening day.

I was worried about every pitch that tried to ensure that Edwin Encarnacion wouldn’t be standing in the starting line up at all.

I was worried when the public comments from the people who matter most, about the team’s most efficient, and arguably most intelligent starter, indicated that they weren’t interested in keeping him in the role he has made a career season out of.

I was worried when I thought of the teams that might pick him up, and how the Blue Jays would inevitably be given a taste of their own medicine when he pitched against them.

I was worried about Anthony Gose, his Oakleys, and the sun. I was also worried about Moises Sierra, his Oakleys, and the sun.

I was worried when everyone got the flu.

“There’s always next year.”

Today, I’m worried about everybody else.

I’m worried that the values of what’s acceptable behaviour, beyond clubhouse pranks, or laughing with friends about a joke, have been obnoxiously forgotten.

I’m worried that the entire roster; players, coaches, trainers, who all work in a sport where they are certain to have heard Spanish phrases (good, bad, and ugly), turned away.

I’m worried that everyone will pretend they didn’t see it. Or claim they didn’t understand. Or were too intimidated to say something.

I’m worried that the battle to find the context is irrelevant, because in North America, whether in a classroom, on a playground, in the workplace, on television, it’s not okay.

I’m worried when the workplace is a major league baseball team.

I’m worried because these men, old and young, veteran and rookie, are role models.

I’m worried that the MLB academies, that try to teach players in Latin America the basic language and skills to survive the move to America, aren’t doing enough.

I’m worried because understanding and tolerance are basic skills.

I’m worried that it doesn’t get much better in the minor leagues.

I’m worried that this word, in any language, hasn’t been eliminated from our vocabularies completely.

I’m worried about the Blue Jays.

(photo by my friend, and wonderful/super/etc Jays photog, James. Follow him on Twitter here.)

  1. tarlizda reblogged this from betweenconfessions
  2. deep-but-playable reblogged this from betweenconfessions and added:
    I agree with all of this, except I’d change every instance of the word “worried” to the word “sad”, or “disappointed”.
  3. powder-blue reblogged this from betweenconfessions and added:
    All of this.
  4. jocktalk reblogged this from betweenconfessions
  5. betweenconfessions posted this