The Doc And Why We Shouldn’t Worry

Okay, calm down people.

Roy/Doc Halladay (why not just change his name for good?), starting pitcher for the Toronto Blue Jays, was reported yesterday as expressing frustration at his (our) team’s seeming inability to take advantage of situations this year, that could have propelled his (our) team to the top of the division.

Blah, blah, royal blah.

Seriously, who can blame him?  I love my Jays, but we have had some pretty weak performances the past few years by players who should have stepped up to the plate, so to speak.  Last year, we had injuries galore, and I don’t think much save a miracle season by several batters could have changed the end result, even if we had miracles seasons by several pitchers.  This year, that can’t be blamed, and I guess that’s why Gibby and three other coaches were, instead.  I might be risking some bashing for saying this, but I think it was the right decision, made too late.  When J.P. saw Gibby wasn’t having the great success like had been hoped or even the little success that had been expected, that should’ve been the end right there.  Getting new coaches lends a new light on things, and I think it’ll be good for the boys.  Frankly, these men are TALENTED.  They wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.  So the fact that after so long, and so many chances, the wins are still few and far between, leads to the conclusion the problem is mostly mental.

My boys are smart.  They just needed new direction.  New inspiration.  And the knowledge that if something isn’t working right, it’s gone.  Shake things up, and you’ll see people with new reason to play hard every day.  Plus, Cito’s apparently helping the team be more “accountable”, which, of course, is desperately needed by the fans.  It’s not just frustrating for the players, after all.  (Anyone remember the whole B.J. Ryan-is-fine fiasco last year?)

So back to my Doc.  This is being played out on Sportsnet and in the news as some big revelation that Doc is unhappy with the Jays, might be looking at leaving, etc., etc……. but in any of the actual quotations in this story, Halladay doesn’t seem anything other than a player who is frustrated.  He doesn’t love or even like to win; he HAS to win.  So this reaction doesn’t come as a surprise.  What would you expect him to say?  That he’s happy we’re not winning?  That he’s disappointed there haven’t been more injuries to blame the losses on?  Come on, guys, stop trying to fabricate news.  He’s upset he’s not winning, which is completely understandable, and I’m pretty sure it just ends there.

And I’m pretty sure he’s going to rock the second half of the season.  I mean, SEVEN complete games, in the FIRST HALF.

Seriously folks, this guy got a line-drive to the temple, so what does he do in his next scheduled start?  Pitches a shutout victory complete game.

Of course.

Because he’s the Doc.

        

      

Copyright L.M. 2008.  (thanks to Globe and Mail, www.YouTube.com and www.bluejays.com, for references.).

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Slate Grays

my hands are dry and rough from working
my eyes are small and used to squinting
my stature average, verging on petite
I have thin skin and veiny feet
my complexion’s poor, my tone is pale
genes say my bones will be quite frail
I have no nails as they are weak
my voice is too high when I speak
my mother thinks my hair’s too long
I think all compliments are wrong
I’m a sceptic, sometimes too much so
though I try to be fair to friend and foe
my opinions strong, my manner shy
in public you’ll never see me cry
in private I keep emotions tame
my anxiety has that cause to blame
I hate to shop, but buy a lot
no place could ever be too hot
I dislike snow, I dislike cold
I’m terrified of getting old
I have good friends who understand
I’m always later than I plan
I’m sensitive, and feel more pain
than I let off, or care to explain
I never intentionally drink alcohol
and for this, flunk social protocol
I dislike freckles, and have a bunch
I bend, I slouch, I slump, I hunch
I get depressed but never treat
I just stay up late and never eat
somehow, I’ve seemed to manage this wreck
to keep my addictive tendency in check
though these faults I easily admit
I’d like to think there’s some good to it
I’ll never regret the time departed
for when I love, I love whole-hearted

    

      

Copyright L.M. 2008.

Passed Presence

yesterday I did a lot that will be forgotten
during the day
and upon arrival of the night I sat
within sight of stars and a friend
unable to contain my joy
I don’t care what it meant
it was part of my present

the little questions that crawl
slithering like wily wordsmiths
stab of criminality
inauthenticity
pressure
but I ignore them all
for whatever was meant
was all part of my present

I never ignore the truth
but sometimes it takes a while
and processing asks a fee
when something requires action
it finds a way of surfacing
and regardless of intent
it was all part of my present

if there is a problem with my words
perhaps it’s my turn for the blame?
well, that’s alright, I am strong
I know who I am
and I know what I need
I ask no one’s consent
to take part in my present

moderation is essential
and those who judge harshly
will lead a boring existence
for rules and standards and doctrines
bastardize life
where any threat of deviance
begins the cycle of torments
I live by me and my present

I should not be misunderstood
we all need a conscience
but show me a tribunal
for all our small misdeeds
and I will show you a hymnal
that touts many creeds
so you will see, and thus lament
your state of being, your sole attempt
and every hour you might repent
but I shall bask in my present

why care you of their dissent
life itself bids you relent
she mourns so many lives unspent
tomes filled with these nonevents

the only one you represent
is you, so follow your intent
it is your world to reinvent
and do what makes you most content

now should I like to end my words
with you
right here
my dear
I shall

Copyright L.M. 2007. (originally posted here at 2:15 a.m. tonight.).

Inventory

I want you to know
every one of you
that I don’t cry for you
I don’t weep
I’m not heartbroken
for nothing can break
through stone

ups and downs
everyday drama
it’s not my thing
I’d rather hide in the forest
and wait for you to find me

as it is, I look for you
outside my door
exiting my life
and wonder if you’ll be back
because I never know for sure

where did I get these thoughts?

did Einstein suffer depression?
I suppose he must have
thoughts like that from me
have pricked the plume anew
though I like the solitary company

I bend
far too much
so much so
that I don’t know
within myself
where I search
and daily toss
the dye that bleeds me

I know where we stand
each and every single one of us
and I will continue to try
to rationalize
and objectify
myself in my mind
just for you

I soared into storm clouds
higher than life
I cannot blame the messenger
but yet I can’t help
feeling tossed
like stale bread
soaking up any hint of warmth
to postpone the brittle battle
I will play by your rules
I will chisel a path
as long as you still try
and as long as I don’t fall
but I should let you know
I don’t feel your respect
not today, nor yesterday
not in the slightest
don’t you see?
I’m the doll
the smiling face which you do greet
with open arms and fleeing feet
sighing, wishing for a day
with ladders finally tossed away
so I may sit alongside you
with worries none, and fears few
the palm I’m in is over-filled
and not exactly what I willed
but choices few, this chiselled stone
is all I have to call my own

Copyright L.M. 2007.  (written a couple months ago, and again I recognize the poem isn’t very good haha).