Boston’s Allie Schroder pitches to San Francisco’s Amanda Gianelloni. Courtesy WPBL-Women’s Pro Baseball League

Springfield, Illinois.

The parking lots surrounding Robin Roberts Stadium are getting busy. The one next door, at Memorial Stadium, the football field, is already packed. Out past the right field fence, the blacktop adjacent to Lamphier Park is seeing a steady stream of traffic. Out of state plates roll in from Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska, Iowa, Kentucky, Indiana and Tennessee. As well, vehicles from Ontario, Quebec, Manitoba and a big rig from B.C. are here for the big tilt.

The game starts in an hour, and everybody, it seems, is rushing in the 90 degree (F) heat to get an Alli Schroder bobblehead. This is Canada Night at the ballpark and Alli’s pitching against arch-rival Kelsie Whitmore. As I see the fans exiting their vehicles, I quickly realize that I am not in the majority here. Men do not make up most of the fans at this baseball game.

It’s a bit strange. And kind of cool. If you love baseball, you’re my kind of people.

This is the inaugural season of the Women’s Pro Baseball League (WPBL). The Boston Hunters and San Francisco Firebells are playing tonight. Tomorrow, it’s the other two teams, the New York Heights versus the Los Angeles Queens. There’s a game every night, Wednesday through Sunday at the ballpark named for baseball Hall of Famer Robin Roberts, who starred at Lamphier High in the 1940s before going on to win 286 big-league games, mostly with the Phillies.

Photos of the star players in the WPBL adorn the walls inside Robin Roberts Stadium.

The inaugural season sees WPBL teams play a 15- game schedule here and then there’s a best-of-three semifinal and a best -of -five final. Although there’s a city name attached to each team, there is no travel in this league, which certainly is cost-effective, but a trifle confusing. The salary cap is $95,000 per team, with the average salary about 6 grand per player for a couple of months of work. A draft was held in November and 20 Canadians were selected. Schroder, a 24- year- old righthander from Fruitvale, B.C., was the number five pick overall, and soon was named Boston’s team captain. She has never been to Boston but hopes to make it out East next year.

The WPBL season ends in late September and then everybody goes home and does their thing during the off-season, with the promise of what 2027 has to bring.

I was not planning on traveling to Springfield to see these games, but, in early August, I received an offer to participate in a documentary film about the life of a top player from the earliest days of organized women’s baseball. I am somewhat of an expert on the subject, and not just because I’ve seen the movie A League of Their Own a million times. I’ve also determined who the most talented and influential female baseball player of all time is.

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Sportsnet

It was not the biggest boner since Fred Merkle cost the Giants the pennant in 1908. It was not Bill Buckner allowing a grounder to go through his legs to extend the 1986 World Series to a seventh game. It was not Addison Barger getting picked off second or even IKF not getting a big enough lead. It wasn’t that big a deal. But the way everybody has reacted to a misplayed fly ball, you would have thought they were organizing a lynch mob for the poor guy. Send him down. Trade him. DFA the guy.

Jesús Sánchez is among the team leaders in OPS. He’s a left- handed bat, which is something the Jays desperately need. He usually appears cheerful, except when he misplays a fly ball. The other guys on the team seem to like him when he’s not dropping fly balls. He talked to the media the day after and said he was going to continue working hard on his defense. I believe him, especially since this screw-up occurred at the house of horrors known as “The Trop”. For those who have never been there before, it’s almost impossible for the naked eye to follow the flight of the ball there. Even professional ballplayers have trouble. Your depth perception gets screwed up, especially with the lights and the white roof. Listen to the announcers and even they can’t follow the ball sometimes. That’s not an excuse; that’s the reality of playing in that godforsaken ballpark.

Still, I’m amazed at the way the entire Jays broadcast crew absolutely buried this guy. Dan Shulman and Joe Siddall had to bite hard with their comments during the play-by-play, but the rest of the crew jumped in with both feet. Caleb Joseph was beside himself and Jamie Campbell. He said what most Jays fans were already thinking: This can’t happen. The Jays lost the game and there was no doubt whose fault it was. Max Scherzer only talked about the mistakes that he made, clearly suggesting that mistakes were made by others.

The following day, there was more discussion about Sanchy and whether manager John Schneider might EVER use him in the outfield again. The fact that he wasn’t in the starting lineup even led Dan and Joe to explain that he wouldn’t have been penciled in anyway because a lefty was on the mound, and he might not have pinch-hit later because then they’d have to put him in the outfield or burn a player to replace him.

Tonight against the Yankees and righty Cam Schlittler, he is the DH. He’s 3 for 9 lifetime against him with 3 walks.

BTW, the starting lineup in Abbott and Costello’s “Who’s on First”

C-Today

P-Tomorrow

1B-Who

2B-What

3B-I Don’t Know

SS-I Don’t Give a Darn

LF-Why

CF-Because

RF-(One was never named, although the board game has the RF listed as “Nobody”).

**

Sales have been lagging a bit this summer, so your humble author would like to suggest some reading material for the remaining dog days and into the fall. Nobody thinks of Christmas gifts at this time of year, but if you want to get one or several signed copies for the sports fans in your life, message me. If you prefer, Amazon has lots of copies in stock. To order, click here: Madness from Amazon

**

Now, back to the post.

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October 8, 1977. Veterans Stadium. Dodgers lefty Tommy John celebrates after striking out Philadelphia’s Bake McBride for the final out in a 4-1 victory and a 3-1 series win in the NLCS. Two years earlier, John had missed the entire season after a revolutionary surgical procedure on his pitching arm.

As so often happens when someone dies, their accomplishments become more noticeable than when they were alive. Such was the case of major league veteran Tommy John, who passed at the age of 83 the other day from bladder cancer.

Tommy John’s name was uttered every single day in reference to the UCL surgery performed on him in 1974 by Dr. Frank Jobe. The procedure worked so well, John went on to win more games after the surgery than he had prior to it. Since then, hundreds of pitchers have had successful Tommy John surgery which has prolonged their careers.

Despite 288 wins, 46 shutouts (fifth all-time among lefties) and a 26-year career, Tommy John is not in the Baseball Hall of Fame. That is a travesty, even more so because of the role he played off the field to help advance women’s rights at a crucial point in the 1970s.

Because of Tommy John, female reporters could finally gain access to baseball locker rooms on an equal basis with their male colleagues. John was pitching for the LA Dodgers in 1977 and was the team’s player representative. The Dodgers took on the Yankees in the World Series, and prior to Game One, John was being interviewed by Melissa Ludtke of Sports Illustrated, who had been covering the Yankees all season long, gaining special access to manager Billy Martin’s office, but not the locker room. She was finally given a pass to the Yankees locker room for the final two games of the regular season, and then in the ALCS against Kansas City.

Ludtke asked John if she would be able to interview the Dodger players in the locker room, like she had with the Yankees. John asked her a few questions about the obstacles she had faced in trying to do her reporting, and how she had been treated as a woman in a man’s world. He agreed that since she was an accredited reporter, she should be allowed equal access. But he wanted to recommend it as the player rep and put it to a vote among his teammates. It was, after all, their locker room. A majority was needed and most of the players voted to allow her in. John told Ludtke of the vote, and she was thrilled at the prospect of going where no woman reporter had gone before in the World Series.

Until she wasn’t.

Baseball commissioner Bowie Kuhn, upon hearing news of the players’ vote, sent an emissary to the press box during the game to tell Ludtke that her locker room pass was being revoked. Men were allowed in. TV cameras were allowed in. Women were not.

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1. A last-place team makes an epic run to the World Series. Could this happen in Toronto?

This could be the night when a certain Toronto Blue Jay goes crazy and hits a couple of dingers at home and starts carrying the team on his shoulders. It could happen, you know? You just have to believe. You also need Apple TV for tonight’s Jays-Yankees game, but that’s a rant for another day.

UPDATE-9:45 p.m.-The Jays beat the Yanks 3-1. Vladdy was removed from the game. He’s day-to-day. I’m also listed as day-to-day.

UPDATE #2. Sunday. Vladdy on 7 day IL. Concussion protocol.

After taking 3 of 4 from the Red Sox, Toronto is just 2 games back of the final wild card spot and still must leapfrog 4 teams to get there. Difficult, but certainly not impossible. Lots of baseball still to be played and anything can happen. Just ask the San Diego Padres.

They were in 11^th place in the National League on July 10^th, five- and-a-half games out of a playoff spot. Today, after winning 15 of their last 19 games, including a sweep of first-place Milwaukee, the Padres are holding down the second wild-card spot in the NL. In a month, they jumped over six teams to earn a playoff position. Six teams! Are you kidding me?

The Blue Jays have 39 games remaining in the season. It says here that 81 wins will be barely enough for an American League Wild Card spot. That means if Toronto can go 22-17 the rest of the way, and the Tigers, Guardians, Rangers and Twins all play .500 or worse, the Jays will get in. Too easy for you? OK, let’s say the Jays go 23-16. The rest will have to play .500 or better to achieve 82 wins. Far from impossible, especially if you consider that the Jays have gotten this far with “The Franchise” being a non-factor. Vladdy has been awful, but now he’s got a chance to make up for it. The Jays can smell the playoffs, and the schedule is quite favourable.

GAMES REMAINING

HOME (18): NY YANKEES 3, KC 3, SEA 3, BAL 3, DET 3, CIN 3.

ROAD: (21): TAMPA 3, YANKEES 3, CLE 3, KC 3, ATHLETICS 3, TEX 3, BAL 3.

Come on, how can a reasonable team with Gold Glove winners and Cy Young winners and Silver Sluggers not go 22-17 or 23-16?

It’s amazing that a team that has gone through so many injuries, and traded away key pieces like Gausman, Varsho and Jeff Hoffman still has a heartbeat. With Dylan Cease, Jose Soriano, Shane Bieber and Max Scherzer, they may have the best starting pitching among the shaky wild-card contenders. Add relievers Louis Varland and Tyler Rogers, and, as long as they’re rested, nobody has a better back end of the bullpen. See where I’m going here?

The Jays could’ve packed it in a long time ago, and folks wondered why they acquired guys like Soriano when they should have been selling. It’s because management knew the rest of the league was mediocre, and there was still a chance for them to break out of the pack in the final quarter of a season. Rather than hold a fire-sale, they tried to remain competitive. That decision could pay off, as the Jays could be the second coming of the 1973 New York Mets.

Wait a minute, did he say the New York Mets? How did they get to be a part of this story?

Mets announcers Bob Murphy, Lindsey Nelson and Ralph Kiner. I listened almost every night during the mind-blowing 1973 season. (New York Mets)

Well, let me enlighten you, dear reader. When I was a teenager, I went on a nightly search during baseball season to find the radio broadcasts of major league games. Since Toronto didn’t have a team, I sought out broadcasts from St. Louis, Detroit, Philadelphia and, of course, New York. We used to get Montreal Expos games from a station in Oshawa, but the signal was so weak that the wind had to be blowing in a certain direction if you wanted to hear it clearly. I did discover New York Mets games, with the trio of Lindsey Nelson, Bob Murphy and Ralph Kiner calling the action on WSYR 570, in Syracuse, N.Y. You could get those games at night just by spinning the radio dial and hoping to hear a ballgame. If the signal faded away, you made note of that frequency, dialed around to find another game, and then maybe came back later to hear a nice clear signal.

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Saturday August 1st. Kevin Gausman acknowledges the cheering crowd at Rogers Centre upon being lifted from the game. He was always trusted to give a strong performance and usually succeeded. This was his 148th and final appearance as a Blue Jay. Photo by Sammy Kogan/Canadian Press

Two of Canada’s most trusted journalists, Peter Mansbridge (L) and the late Lloyd Robertson. Stratford Beacon Herald

We lost two real good guys this week, one by death and one by trade.

Lloyd Robertson and Kevin Gausman were similar: Trusted, respected, reliable, honest, down-to-earth, friendly, accountable, valuable. You wanted to be a teammate.

Robertson passed away at the age of 92 after a stellar career in Canadian broadcasting. Gausman, aged 35, was traded by Toronto after four-and-a-half years as a starting pitcher for the Blue Jays. Both men loved living here and were often seen out in public, unlike most in their professions. Both were beloved by fans for their ability to consistently get the job done. With Robertson on the anchor desk, you felt confident that he was going to deliver the straight goods in a professional manner. When Gausman took the mound every five days, you got the same feeling. He is so well-respected, it’s likely that Jays fans will be rooting for him and the Cubs down the stretch this year. There’s even talk that he might re-sign with Toronto as a Free Agent after the season if there’s interest on both sides. I never got to meet Gausman or interview him, but he seems like my kind of guy.

As for Lloyd, reading some of the comments from his fans, friends and co-workers got me thinking of two stories.

In the summer of 1976, Lloyd had announced that he was leaving the CBC to co-anchor the CTV National News alongside Harvey Kirck. This was a huge deal. Lloyd had been anchoring “The National” for years and now he was going to the opposition. But first, he had to fulfill his anchoring obligations at what was known by critics as the “Canadian Broadcorping Castration”.

With most of the staff in Montreal for the Olympics, a bunch of us college students were hired to provide “Summer Relief” for some of the more mundane, yet high-paying union jobs. At the time, the CBC had at least ten people for every one job classification. They only needed two or three, so we would do a lot of sitting around, waiting for work to come along. I was assigned to VTR Record/Playback. My job was to press the buttons on the machine whenever someone told me to. It was a union job (NABET) and a non-union member could not touch the buttons on the machine or there would be a grievance filed. This is one of the reasons why Lloyd was leaving the CBC; his position as an Announcer (talent) prevented him from writing or editing any copy he happened to be reading that night on the air. There were people in union positions that did the writing and editing. His job was to present.

The same was true of any talent that happened to be working on a production of some sort. One of my first jobs was to work the playback machine for The National. Prior to the show, Lloyd would come up to my edit suite to watch the stories he was going to introduce that night on the air. He would be wearing sandals, Bermuda shorts, and a crisp white shirt with a tie. A sports jacket would be nearby. Nobody knew it, but Lloyd Robertson never wore long pants on the anchor desk the last few months he was at the CBC. He lived near the studios, would hang out with folks at the Red Lion pub on Jarvis Street, and would casually stroll around like a regular guy who was escaping the bureaucracy of the CBC for the editorial freedom he so badly wanted.

Many years later, when I worked for Sportsnet (owned by CTV at the time), I used to have dinner in the Channel Nine Cafe every night at around 7:15. We would have 45 minutes or so before we had to get back to the studio to produce a show for the Western and Pacific regions. One of my first nights at Sportsnet, Dave Devall, the iconic CFTO personality/weatherman, invited me to sit down with him and his buddy, Lloyd Robertson, who I was re-introduced to. Both had just finished taping some promos for their respective stations and were talking shop. We had a nice chat for a while, and then everybody had to go back to work. Before he left, Lloyd gave me a piece of advice: Bring food for everybody you work closely with and you’ll ingratiate yourself. For years, Robertson had brought ice cream for the staff of CTV National News every Friday. It was the highlight of the week for many. The following Monday, I began a tradition of bringing bagels and cream cheese for the staff. They thanked me for it, and I thanked Lloyd for the pro tip. Another thing: Lloyd never asked for a massive salary. He only wanted a new Lincoln Continental every year. And a parking spot right in front of the building.

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Sportsnet won’t be producing as many games now that Wednesday Night Hockey has been sold to Amazon Prime. Rogers will now begin to charge subscribers more money for less content.

As someone who watches a lot of sports on TV, I was expecting a move like this. I knew it was going to cost me more money to see my favourite teams in action. The question is: How many more streaming services will I need to see all the games?

After carrying Monday night NHL games for the past two seasons, Amazon Prime has acquired exclusive national rights from Rogers Sportsnet for Wednesday night games beginning this season and lasting for the next 12 years. Prime will also show Stanley Cup playoff games, but only after Sportsnet chooses the top three series they want to cover. This means that, even if you subscribe to Sportsnet, you’ll have to get Amazon Prime if you want to see ALL the games. Prime will also broadcast games in French for the first time.

This is the future of sports broadcasting, especially since the regional sports network concept has pretty much been flushed. Prime already has rights for the NFL, NASCAR, NBA, WNBA, PWHL, NWSL and Mixed Martial Arts events. Netflix, Apple TV, FUBO TV and DAZN are streaming live sporting events and will continue to do so.

Nevertheless, hockey fans are pissed. There is no more NHL hockey on free TV. Last year, you could get all the Saturday games on CBC while Sportsnet carried the rest of the Maple Leafs games, with TSN doing a handful of the regional broadcasts. But now that the CBC is out, and Rogers will no longer show any games on CITY TV, viewers are going to have to pay for TSN, Sportsnet, and Prime and hope that other streaming services don’t get involved soon (they will). Every single streaming service either has, or plans to acquire live sporting events. And they’re willing to spend, spend, spend in order to get more subscribers.

Besides having to pay more to watch hockey, Canadians are wondering who the announcers will be for the Wednesday night national package on Prime. Last year, it was John Forslund, Adnan Virk, Andi Petrillo, Jody Shelly, Thomas Hardy and others. Since these games will only be shown in Canada, it’s hoped that there will be more of a Canadian flavour to the Wednesday telecasts this year. All the broadcasters and production people should be Canadian. It is, after all, our game and there are plenty of talented broadcasters here that would make the Prime telecasts as good if not better than the Sportsnet shows.

John Forslund, the voice of the Seattle Kraken, was also the play-by-play caller for Amazon Prime Monday Night Hockey last year.

Competition, however, is good. I’m interested to see how Prime handles the pre-game shows and intermissions. Instead of the same tired formula being used by Sportsnet and TSN, Prime has a chance to do more storytelling and introduce new features that would make their shows different from the same old same old. There are only so many issues for pundits to discuss during intermission panels. That gets tired very quickly. Here’s hoping Amazon Prime forces the other broadcasters to up their game by providing better coverage with entertaining personalities, interesting storylines and less airy badinage among the panelists.

**

Louis and Gus Varland with the umpiring crew at Nationals Park in Washington.

This week, Toronto Blue Jays relief pitcher Louis Varland was reunited with his brother Gus, who’s a pitcher with the Washington Nationals. Gus had just been called up as the Jays came to town, and the Varland family was on hand to see them. It made for a nice story, and reminded me of the greatest major league debut I had ever witnessed.

May 31, 1979. History in the making. Pat Underwood (R), in his major league debut, started against the Toronto Blue Jays. His brother Tommy was the opposing starter.

It involved two brothers, Tommy and Pat Underwood. In 1979, I was a young broadcaster covering the Toronto teams, which included the lowly Blue Jays. Pat Underwood had just been called up from AAA Evansville to the Detroit Tigers. Manager Les Moss completely shuffled his pitching rotation, and without knowing who would be starting for the Blue Jays, he penciled in Pat Underwood for his first major league appearance on Thursday May 31^st at Exhibition Stadium, the final game of the series. The opposing pitcher would be Tommy Underwood, who was struggling with an 0-6 record for Toronto. This would be the first time in MLB history that a pitcher made his debut against his brother. It was also the first time in history that left-handed brothers faced each other on the mound.

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Jays manager John Schneider will have to fight to keep his job. Courtesy Sportsnet.

I don’t know what goes on in the Blue Jays clubhouse, but whatever it is ain’t working. Same for the managers office.

Whether it’s refusing to bench or even discipline Vladdy or being unable to use his pitchers effectively, John Schneider is not the guy for this team anymore. There are going to be changes from now until next season, so the Jays may as well start by canning the skipper.

Friday night at Fenway, in a game that could only be seen on Apple TV, thank goodness, Schneider mismanaged the Jays into a stunning 6-4 loss. The Jays had trailed 4-0 before Kaz Okamoto hit a three-run homer in the seventh, and then two hits and an Andres Giminez sac fly in the eighth tied the game. The Jays now had serious momentum and were set to hold the Red Sox off and then get the bats going again.

This is where Schneider and his pitching coach Pete Walker made a fatal error. Instead of using Tyler Rogers or even Louis Varland to pitch the bottom of the eighth, they brought out a guy who was making his second major league appearance. In a tie game. At Fenway Park with 38 thousand screaming fans. Yes, if you can believe it, the call went to CJ Van Eyk.

“CJ Van Who”

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REUTERS/Kyaw Soe

The Toronto Maple Leafs will be on TV every Saturday night this season at 7 p.m. Eastern (Daylight?) Time. Every. Saturday. Night. Same time, same station. You will only be able to see them via Rogers, the company that owns the team and owns the network that owns the rights to broadcast and stream the games. No more distribution via the CBC after 75 years with the public broadcaster. Rogers owns it all and they want their cash cow on every Saturday night so they can charge the highest possible rates to hungry advertisers.

The Leafs are more valuable than any other team in Canada, so setting up the NHL schedule in their favour was a no-brainer. They get all the Saturdays in exchange for a bunch of Monday games and a lengthy seven-game road trip in December and January. Small price to pay for a prime Saturday night timeslot, with millions of eyeballs attached. The national broadcast of “Rogers Hockey Night in Canada” (RHNIC) will be Toronto-centric, as it should be. Folks here don’t care what the rest of the country wants to see. For them, it’s the Leafs at 7, and as for the second-half of the doubleheader, which will start at 10 p.m. Eastern, who cares? One of those Western teams, like Vancouver, will be on, but people in Toronto don’t care about the Canucks. Nor do folks in the rest of Canada. Those games don’t generate anywhere near as much national interest (or income) as the Leafs do, but you can’t convince the Leaf haters of Western Canada.

I see it all the time on social media. How people from Toronto must all be assholes and everything about Toronto is bad, from the traffic to the cost of living to the politicians to the crime to the sports teams that commentators spend about 95% of their time talking about. People think the fix is in for Toronto and favouritism rules. That’s how the Leafs got the first draft pick, right? That’s why heaping blame on Toronto has been a Canadian cottage industry since Confederation. I’m surprised South Park hasn’t done a sequel called “Blame Toronto”.

Earlier this week, the “Big Smoke” was under fire for many reasons, one of which was a radio purge that saw Rogers Communications send 230 people to the executioner in Vancouver, Calgary, Kitchener and Halifax. All-sports and all-news stations. All shuttered. Some who lost their jobs said they were “shocked”, although I can’t see how. The writing has been on the wall for years. Traditional media has been shrinking like George Costanza’s ball sack. Radio has been hemorrhaging money for years and stations are closing at an alarming rate. Nobody studies the medium in college anymore. How can anyone in the media business, and radio especially, feel safe and secure in their job?

The finger-pointers, particularly those who reside in Western Canada, have jabbed home the point that Rogers is headquartered in the city with the narrow shoulders, so let’s blame Toronto and, by extension, all Torontonians for these corporate transgressions. Ridiculous! Rogers makes billions of dollars, mostly as a wireless company. They’ve recently spent billions on acquiring sports teams and signing players to big contracts here in Toronto. We’re not talking about the Vancouver Raptors or the Calgary Blue Jays. Toronto is where the big teams play. This is where the high-profile players reside. The Centre of the Universe, baby. Whether you want to root for or against Toronto teams, Rogers will tell you when you can watch and if you don’t like it, tough.

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Did you really think Keith Pelley was going to sit there and do nothing? The much-maligned President of MLSE (I’ve done much of the maligning myself) gave the OK for his charges to acquire two of the biggest names in sports to come to Toronto. His Maple Leafs have Stanley Cup winning goalie Sergei Bobrovsky and his Raptors now have Kawhi Leonard back in the fold. Pelley even gave the thumbs-up for a one-day contract for Kyle Lowry so he could retire as a Raptor. I’m not a fan of one-day contracts, but Lowry deserved the recognition.

Goalie Bob is 38 years old, and Kawhi Leonard is 35. Youth movement be damned, these guys are here to win a championship now and for the next three years. Toronto fans don’t have the patience for a rebuild and Rogers, after getting a taste of the World Series with the Blue Jays, wants in on the next wave of Maple Leaf and Raptor success. This week they shuttered a bunch of their radio stations so they could spend that money on their Toronto sports teams. That didn’t go over well with the Toronto haters, of which there are many. Don’t forget, Toronto has this country’s only NBA and MLB teams, and both are owned by Rogers.

Kawhi Leonard makes a surprise appearance at Kyle Lowry’s news conference where the former Raptor signed a one-day contract with the team. Courtesy Sportsnet.

Kawhi Leonard turned 35 the other day, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at thim or his stats. He just finished his finest NBA season, averaging nearly 28 points a game for the LA Clippers. And now, he’s a Toronto Raptor again. Only this time there’s no helicopter-cam footage and social media hysteria trying to figure out if he’s going to sign with Toronto. Six years ago, he jilted the Raptors and chose LA, but now he wants to make Toronto his home again. With the exception of the Knicks, the East is wide-open, and Kawhi’s presence in Toronto will make the Raps a championship contender.

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George Springer reacts as teammate Luis Arias gets lost on the bases and is doubled up to kill an 8th inning rally last night. Toronto lost to Houston, 3-1. Mark Blinch Getty Images

The 2026 Toronto Blue Jays are deteriorating before our very eyes, and it’s like watching a train wreck. They just lost two out of three to the Houston Astros in a home series that should have been a sweep. Even the Jays broadcasters have been critical, and that should tell you something right there. After winning the American League pennant last season, the Jays were recognized as one of the more exciting and talented teams in baseball. Fans who couldn’t find Toronto on a map before were now interested and engaged with this young team. So, what happened?

They reached the .500 mark on Monday with a 4-2 come-from-behind win over Houston thanks to a Kaz Okamoto homer and three sacrifice flies. They also turned three double plays in the field. However, they were 1 for 9 with runners in scoring position (RISP) and left 13 men on base.

Tuesday was a disaster. Shane Bieber got knocked around, but the Jays overcame a 4-0 deficit to take the lead. They blew it in the ninth when rookie Brandon Valenzuela was called for catchers’ interference with the bases loaded. Inexcusable. That was followed by a game-tying sac fly before former Blue Jay Joey Loperfido won it with a three-run homer in the 11^th inning. Final score 9-7 Houston. The Jays left 13 men on base again and were 3 for 14 with RISP.

Loperfido, who was traded even-up for the laconic Jesus Sanchez, was the hero again on Wednesday when he tripled off Jeff Hoffman in the 8^th inning of a 1-1 game. With one out, Hoffman shocked everyone when he tried to pick Loperfido off third, but Kaz Okamoto was either not paying attention or missed the sign because the play was totally botched and Loperfido raced home with the go-ahead run on Hoffman’s throwing error. Sickening. Jays manager John Schneider said post-game that Okamoto thought the throw was going to come from the catcher. Did the language barrier cause a problem there? Probably.

Jeff Hoffman allowed a triple and then committed a costly error to allow the go-ahead run to score in the 8th inning last night. How much longer will he be pitching in Toronto?

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In 1975, Wintario was the first lottery ever introduced by the province of Ontario. For one dollar, you had a chance to win a hundred grand. The first draw was in May of 1975, at the Ontario Science Centre. I bought ticket number 77997 at the Mac’s Milk store that I was working at in Thornhill. It did not win. The next draw was two weeks later. Someone pulled the balls out of the dispenser in this order: 7-7-9-9-7. I would never come closer to winning a hundred thousand bucks. I almost had it.

Almost and close are first cousins.

They say close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, but close/almost also works in golf. Sometimes, people ARE interested in something you didn’t do. Or almost did. Like a hole-in-one.

Imagine your humble narrator on the tee strangling a 7 iron as he pulls the ball 30 yards left of the green. However, there’s a huge mound over there and the ball slams into it with such force that it jumps directly forward, off the cart path, onto the green and hits the flagstick and stays out. Two feet away. My buddies were laughing so hard. I was relieved and thankful that it didn’t drop because not only would I have had to buy drinks for the whole clubhouse (No hole-in-one-insurance) but I would have had to tell everyone just how I did it.

The saying in golf is “They don’t ask how, they only ask how many”. In other words, we don’t care how you did it, just tell us how many strokes it took you, you lucky motherfucker. There’s no pictures on the scorecard.

But, if it only took you one stroke to get the ball into the hole, you must give everyone the play-by-play, right?

Had anyone asked, I was prepared to lie about that tee shot.

“154 yards, back left pin. High draw with a 7 iron into a one-club left-to-right wind. The ball landed softly over the bunker like a butterfly with sore feet, took one little crow hop, rolled about 10 feet and disappeared without so much as bruising the flagstick.” Yeah, you wish.

Recently, I discovered that I had come close once again to a major accomplishment. I achieved something that many thought was unattainable. For years, there have been claims by others that I was an award-winning sports broadcaster. Not true, unless you include the Hebsy Awards. I guess you could say I was an award-nominated sportscaster. I made it as a Gemini Award finalist a couple of times but never won. Ron MacLean, Brian Williams and other CBC talent were always winning. I was just happy to be nominated.

But now that I’ve morphed into an author, I was pleased to find out that I was voted as a finalist for the 2026 Can Reads Book Award for Adult Non-Fiction. A finalist. That’s like making it to the podium or being announced as one of the Three Stars of the game. You may not have won, but be thankful that you were even nominated. If this were the Reading Olympics, you’d be getting a medal.

The medal came in the form of a lovely certificate, suitable for framing. I also got a bunch of stickers to put on my books so that the reader will know that I came close to making the literary equivalent of a hole-in-one. I’ll have to settle for birdie.

Buy my Award-Nominated book here

**

A lot of folks are really angry that the CBC will no longer be telecasting Hockey Night In Canada. People have stories about gathering around the TV on Saturday nights, listening or watching the games and dreaming of one day meeting their heroes or even playing in the NHL. Americans in border towns like Detroit, Buffalo and Seattle will no longer be able to watch the games as they have for the past 75 years. U.S. cable companies don’t carry Rogers Sportsnet.

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Ambassador Guerrero says baseball “teaches patience” in the Betway ad. Too bad he doesn’t practice what he preaches when he’s wearing a Blue Jays uniform.

(UPDATE: Vladdy was scratched today against the Yankees. He’s sick.)

There comes a time in every man’s life when he must make a hard decision. Of course, this goes for women too, but currently there aren’t any members of the distaff side playing major league baseball.

Vladdy Guerrero Jr. must decide if he’s going to become the player we all think he should be, or just a fat-cat half-billionaire who has become the Jays DRK (designated rally killer) by swinging at pitches so far out of the strike zone, you couldn’t hit them with a canoe paddle. I don’t care if he’s a Gold Glove first baseman (which he’s not). I pay little attention to his status as a clubhouse leader and inventor of the Home Run jacket and all his teammate-dousing and camera-mugging. I only care if he’s the right guy to be anointed as THE guy. You know, the FRANCHISE. In fact, I might entertain the idea of trading him if the right deal came along. He’s been just awful.

But this week I saw a new Vladdy on TV. Just as he’s been mired like no other player of his calibre has ever been mired before, he pops up in a commercial for Betway, the online gambling company. Vladdy wants you to play smart and play in control. That’s a good one.

It was announced on his Instagram account that he’s now the “Responsible Gambling Ambassador” (RGA) for Betway. How about that for a title? Very ambassadorial of Vladdy to be promoting such a worthy cause.

In the commercial, Vladdy tells gamblers they should know when to take a walk and advises that you shouldn’t swing at every pitch. Hysterically ironic, don’t you think? I laughed until I cried. Vladdy has four walks all month. He swings at nearly every pitch. He’s setting a terrible example for future gambling addicts in this cheap, amateurish commercial.

Vladdy for Betway

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People have treated me differently over the past few months and I think I know why. It’s my hat. I look different. I look goofier than usual. People have been staring. People have been snickering. People don’t seem to take me seriously anymore. The hat makes me appear like a dum-dum. I’m not. I’m still smart and funny, even though I look like Gomer Pyle.

This summer, under orders from my dermatologist, I have stopped exposing my sensitive skin to the damaging effects of the sun. SPF 50 and long sleeves are the order of the day from now on. As well, I’m trying out a new style of hat that covers every inch of my precious face and neck. I need more than the standard baseball cap, which has been my go-to headgear since 1964.

I play a lot of golf, and I’ve tried several variations of what’s commonly known as a Bucket Hat. Currently, I’m using a Foot-Joy low rider that looks like a lampshade on my head but keeps the sun off of me, and that’s all that matters. I also have a couple of floppy golf hats from an era when most golfers didn’t wear headgear to protect themselves. They smoked cigarettes on the course and wore steel spikes and swung persimmon woods and never applied sunscreen. The ones who did wear hats were easy to recognize. Ben Hogan wore a Newsboy cap when he played. Sam Snead wore a Panama straw hat. Jim Colbert wore the bucket hat. Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus rarely wore hats.

Julius Boros won the 1968 PGA Championship at the age of 48 wearing a bucket hat, Sans-a-Belt slacks and steel-spiked shoes. He was also a heavy smoker on and off the golf course.

Eight-time PGA Tour winner Jim Colbert, who recently passed at age 85, began wearing a bucket hat after suffering sunstroke on the golf course as a teen. When he tried to switch to a baseball cap, he discovered that nobody recognized him, so he went back to the bucket, which became his trademark.

The first person I ever saw wearing a bucket hat was actor Bob Denver, who played the title role in the TV sitcom Gilligan’s Island. His character was a goofy, hapless stumble-bum, and the bucket hat made him appear even clumsier and more spaced-out. ( I mean, how is it that he never made it with Ginger and/or Mary Ann all those years? Was it the hat?)

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Me and Daryl King in Denver, about to embark on a trip of a lifetime.

I apologize for not writing sooner. I was holidaying in the Greater Denver area for the better part of last week. We saw the Colorado Avalanche in their final home game of the year, and then played golf at a magical course called “Sanctuary” for three glorious days. In between, my buddy Daryl and I visited the resort town of Breckenridge, Colorado, taking in the thin air and majestic Rocky Mountains. Even though marijuana is legal and plentiful here, you don’t need it to get high. Just look out the window. The views are spectacular.

Breckenridge, Colorado. About 90 minutes west of Denver. Kind of like Banff, Alberta. Expensive resort town with jaw-dropping, breathtaking views at 9,600 feet above sea level. Banff is only at 4500 feet.

We arrived in Denver on a Friday, just in time for Game Two of the Western Conference final between the favoured Avs and the Vegas Golden Knights. We rented a BMW X5 for $80 a day, checked into our hotel and then set out to buy a couple of ducats to the game. Oh, there were plenty of seats available, but we weren’t going to spend $500 U.S. each for nosebleed seats. Instead, we decided to take the train to Ball Arena and see if we could buy from scalpers.

The Light Rail transit system in Denver is clean and efficient. And cheap, too.

The RTD (Rapid Transit Denver) station was three blocks from our hotel, and a 40 minute trip to Ball Arena. Two return tickets cost $7.64 (Canadian). One stop before Ball Arena is Mile High Stadium, where the Denver Broncos play. A couple of stops later, you would find yourself at Coors Field, where the Colorado Rockies play. In between, there’s Union Station with tons of restaurants, and, of course, the home of the Avalanche and Denver Nuggets, originally, known as the Pepsi Center when it opened in 1999. I attended the 2001 NHL all-star game there when North America beat the World team 14-12.

Daryl taking a photo of Mile High Stadium from the train. Next stop: Ball Arena.

We got to the arena a couple of hours before puck drop, but there were no scalpers to be found. Lots of cops directing traffic and keeping an eye out for illegal ticket transactions. Normally, in places like Toronto, you can always find someone selling tickets near the arena, but in Denver it was like trying to find Jimmy Hoffa’s final resting place. At one corner, I shouted out “Who’s selling tickets?”, and I got a couple of icy stares. Scalping is legal here, but only online. Which means you’re pretty much forced to use the most notorious legal ticket-gouger in the world, Ticketmaster. Don’t get me started with these goniffs.

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Remember when Mitch Marner and Craig Berube were part of a Toronto Maple Leafs team that made their way to a second-round appearance in the Stanley Cup playoffs? They eventually lost to the champion Florida Panthers, but you’ve got to admit, Leaf fans had high hopes for this squad. They were exciting, and with one or two tweaks, could definitely be a Cup contender.

And then it all fell apart. They went into the tank when it became obvious that they were deficient in many areas. The power play coach was fired in mid-season. The franchise player got hurt again. The GM is gone. The team has been dismantled. Call it what you will, there are more changes to come. Today, neither Marner nor Berube is part of a team that’s reached deepest depths of despair. Even with two years left on his contract, the Leafs bid an expensive “Hail and Farewell” to the Chief, and are expected to announce his replacement sometime between Victoria Day and Thanksgiving. I can’t wait for that press conference. Maybe Keith Pelley will let somebody else run things and keep his foot on the ground, rather than in his mouth.

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Madness from Amazon

For a while, I was one of those snotty Leaf observers who felt that Marner was a soft player, incapable of participating in the type of game that Leaf fans adored. He was no Wendel Clark or Doug Gilmour. He was not a lunch bucket type but rather a player who appeared to have a laissez-faire attitude towards hockey. He was coddled by his father and his coaches. He got second billing to Matthews and Nylander, and when he was questioned by the media, he responded with short, uninteresting quotes, seemingly bored with the whole process. Whenever the Leafs failed in the playoffs, Marner was the scapegoat for Toronto’s incompetence.

Mitch Marner scores a highlight reel goal to give Vegas a 1-0 lead, en route to a 5-1 win and a series clinching victory over Anaheim in Game Six of the Western Conference semi-finals. Photo by Kiyoshi Mio-Imagn Images

But after watching Marner play and seeing him grow, I have a newfound appreciation for him. I thought he got a raw deal in Toronto and now; after escaping the clutches of Leafs Nation, he’s helped turn Vegas into a Cup contender. I mean, did you see that goal in the series-clinching sixth game on Thursday against Anaheim? He looked like the superstar we thought he would be.

And the Leafs looked like total idiots. They didn’t replace him, and the team suffered.

That’s why Marc Savard had to go.

That’s why Brad Treliving had to go.

That’s why Craig Berube had to go.

That’s probably why Shane Doan had to go. Who knows?

The Leafs never should have let Mitch Marner go. The same way they shouldn’t have let Zach Hyman go. Or Freddie Andersen. Or, don’t get me started, Nazem Kadri.

Because you can’t survive when you lose one of your big engines and try to repair it with spare parts. The Leafs should’ve learned that after losing Hyman in 2021 to Free Agency. All Hyman did in Edmonton was help get them to the Cup final twice while playing 74 playoff games over five seasons. In his five years with the Leafs, he appeared in 32 post-season games. The Leafs lost Andersen the same year as Hyman, as a Free Agent to Carolina. All he’s done for the Hurricanes is become an all-star, and this year, unbeatable in the playoffs with an 8-0 record. Since his departure, twelve different men have auditioned for his position: Jack Campbell, Petr Mrazek, Erik Kalligren, Joseph Woll, Michael Hutchinson, Ilya Samsonov, Matt Murray, Martin Jones, Anthony Stolarz, Dennis Hildeby, Cayden Primeau and Artur Akhtyamov. None have been able to replace him. And so far, nobody has come close to replacing Marner.

If you were to look at the favourites for the Conn Smythe Trophy right now, Marner and Andersen are at the top of the list. Let that sink in, Leafs fans.

Courtesy NHL.com

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Every day, it seems, somebody important from the world of sports leaves us. A former player, coach or manager passes and we pull out career statistics and hear heartfelt stories about their life. Sometimes it’s a team executive or a member of the sports media that people are talking about. But that only lasts a day or so, until the next famous person dies. Then we come up with a different list of accomplishments to concentrate on as we mourn another unfortunate soul.

Over the past week or so, I had wanted to write about three people who I admired, and had the opportunity to meet. All three had storied careers, and were tops in their field. They deserved more recognition than what the daily news cycle and social media had been posting.

One was John Sterling, the longtime play by play voice of the New York Yankees (Thuhhhhh Yankees win!”). He was also a hockey announcer, having done New York Islanders games, as well as other sports. I interviewed him several times over the years and found him to be engaging and funny and a great storyteller. He was 87 years old and beloved by Yankees fans. He called their games for 36 years, starting in 1989, and once broadcast over five thousand consecutive Yankees games.

The other was Ted Turner, also 87, who began the era of Cable TV Superstations in the 1970s when he bought a TV station in Atlanta and acquired the rights to telecast Braves games. Pretty soon, his Superstation, WTBS, was made available on every cable and satellite system in the U.S., and the Braves were billed as “America’s Team”. They were seen by more viewers than any other team in baseball, followed soon by the Chicago Cubs and New York Mets games on WGN and WWOR, respectively. Turner later bought the Braves and, in 1980, started CNN and added other Turner stations as cable exploded in the 80s. He famously married actress/activist Jane Fonda, and his Braves were an annual contender for the World Series. He was also an America’s Cup champion, and once rammed the yacht of his ex-wife to prevent her from winning a regatta. An interesting and innovative guy.

Hartford Whalers goalie John Garrett, circa 1981.

The man I wanted to write about most, however, was John Garrett. I knew him personally, and I really liked him. We had worked together occasionally in the late 1980s and early 90s on Maple Leafs telecasts. Whenever I saw him in person, he made me smile. Always in a good mood. Always with a good story.

Garrett died suddenly and mysteriously at age 74 in Salt Lake City last week while covering the Stanley Cup playoffs for Sportsnet. We were all shocked. His best friends offered fond recollections and the tributes poured in. I posted a few thoughts, but then had to let his passing settle in for a while. Unlike the millions of fans who had enjoyed his work on hockey telecasts for 40+ years, I had been an admirer of his from even further back.

Garrett played goal for the junior Peterborough Petes and I hated him at first because he was constantly thwarting my favourite Toronto Marlboros in the late 1960s and early 70s. He was, in the words of Hall of Fame sportswriter Frank Orr, “a brilliant goaltender.” I can still see him rejecting Steve Shutt, Billy Harris, Dave Gardner and Steve Vickers, flopping around in a manner that would bring shivers to today’s butterfly-style goalies but applause from the likes of Mike Palmateer and other nomadic netminders. Great scorers such as Marcel Dionne, Bill Barber, Denis Potvin, Rick Martin, Rick Kehoe and Dennis Ververgaert were constantly turned aside by the 5 foot 8 inch ‘tender, later to be known as “Cheech”. (For a while, he was known as “Lotto” because his goals against average at the time was 6.49)

(Can I interest you in a perfect Mother’s/Father’s Day gift? Perfect for the sports lover in your life. Here’s a link or message me for a signed copy.

Madness from Amazon

I first met John Garrett in the visitors dressing room at the old Hamilton Forum, a.k.a. the “Barton Street Barn.” My Uncle Sam had been the manager of the building, and had introduced me to Paul Henderson, Peter Mahovlich, Bobby Orr and other players in the OHA. Hamilton Red Wings games were on CHCH-TV every week, and replayed on Sunday mornings. Marlies games were on CFTO-TV on Sunday afternoons, and my friends and I would usually go down to the Gardens and get good seats for 50 cents each. I remember Garrett made a huge save down in the end where we were sitting, and when somebody yelled at him, he stuck out his tongue through his mask. We all laughed. Besides being a great goalie (216 NHL/WHA wins), he was, by all accounts, an even better teammate.

Garrett would be drafted by the St. Louis Blues, and eventually end up in the fledgling World Hockey Association with Minnesota, coached by Harry Neale. That’s where he earned his famous nickname. From a Reddit post:

“If you have any old Minnesota Fighting Saint hockey cards around and take a look at my picture you could see why Cheech was appropriate. Rick Smith was a teammate at the time and thought I looked like Cheech Marin (of Cheech and Chong) and of Mexican decent. He called me Cheech and it stuck.”

John Garrett’s 1973-74 rookie card. He was 22 years old.

Cheech Marin in his mid 20s. Notice any resemblance? Rick Smith was right.

The Fighting Saints folded after a few seasons. Garrett had been sent to the Toronto Toros before that team moved to Birmingham, Alabama to become the Bulls. While Garrett was there, Gordie Howe of the New England Whalers was approaching his one-thousandth professional goal. He had 869 NHL markers, regular season and playoffs, and another 130 in the WHA. The chase had stalled at 999 goals, and the Whalers were due to visit Birmingham that week. Garrett remembered saying "Oh, please, Gordie, get your 1,000th with somebody else. Don’t put me in the history books." But Cheech and Mr. Hockey would be forever linked to, not one, but two milestone goals.

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Mats Sundin, Senior Executive Advisor, Hockey Operations, and his godson, forward Max Domi from the days when Sundin was captain of the Maple Leafs.

My weekend wrapped up today when the Toronto Maple Leafs announced that they would not be winning the Stanley Cup anytime soon, but their culture will be the envy of every other professional sports team. New GM John Chayka joins Hall of Famer Mats Sundin as Keith Pelley’s golden boys, even though both have been out of the game for many years. Sundin didn’t even know what his title would be until a few hours before the press conference began.

Neither had been pursued by any other NHL team for these roles, and it’s obvious to see why. Usually, you hire someone who has been around the league, but neither of these two even had a part-time role along the way. And you wonder why Leaf fans are outraged at the announcements. I’ve never seen a Toronto fan base so upset. The backlash has been remarkable. It reminded me of the time that Blue Jays manager Tim Johnson lied about his military service in Viet Nam (he had none) in order to motivate one of his ball players. (It was Johnson’s wife, who inadvertently spilled the beans in an interview, saying he had never served in Viet Nam).

Johnson, at the time, laughed off the lie as being “no big deal”, and was preparing for spring training for the 1999 season. But the media and the public would not let the story go, even though the Jays had hoped to dodge this firestorm and get on with the season. Despite a successful season the year before, GM Gord Ash had no choice but to fire Johnson and replace him with Jim Fregosi. It took 16 years before the Jays were to make the post-season.

John Chayka is 36 years old. He’s got to dodge the same critical fan base and media. The ones who don’t trust people. The ones who are tired of unfulfilled promises. The last Maple Leaf boy wonder was at least an assistant GM. Chayka hasn’t been in the game since Macklin Celebrini was in grade school.

He’s got a lot to prove after his checkered career as the Phoenix Coyotes GM, which ended after he was suspended and the team had to forfeit a second -round pick in 2020 and a first rounder in 2021 because of illegal pre-draft testing.

Mats Sundin, Keith Pelley and John Chayka. The new Toronto Maple Leafs management team.

In Toronto, Chayka will be making plenty of changes, which could include a new coach to replace Craig Berube. Personally, I think Berube will begin the season, but if the team stumbles early on, I’m sure Chayka and Sundin have a contingency plan. They had better. Maybe Mats will go behind the bench and coach his godson, Max Domi. Maybe Tie Domi will be Sundin’s assistant. Or maybe Max becomes the player-coach at some point. I know a lot of people who believe a lot of Maple Leaf decisions are made because of the influence of Tie Domi and other former Leafs.

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The toughest job in sports must be that of an official. Every call, it seems, is crucial. Courtesy NHL.

Back in the previous century, when one referee and two linesmen officiated NHL games, a couple of sassy stateside organists would play the song “Three Blind Mice” whenever they came onto the ice or when there was an apparent missed call that went against the home team. After a while, the song was banned, even though organists and PA announcers in other leagues have been ejected for playing it over the years.

If one were to use it as a musical soundtrack, it would be a perfect accompaniment to “Kill the Umpire”, a very popular baseball chant around the time of lynch mobs, and a good way to vent your anger without really appearing homicidal. It does show a serious lack of respect, which is something that arbiters of sport the world over have had to deal with. Nowhere else in the world can you be subjected to such abuse, second-guessing and public humiliation. Unless your last name happens to be Trump (rhymes with “Kill the ump”).

I umpired house league softball for a few years and some of the shit I heard from cowardly parents and other hecklers made me want to climb the backstop fence and go after them like Jimmy Piersall in “Fear Strikes Out”. Officiating sports is not a job that seems enjoyable to me, and maybe that’s why it’s getting harder to find good officials at any level of sport. Who wants to be abused like that, unless you’re part of a Monty Python skit.

“I’d like to buy an argument please.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re in the wrong room. This is abuse.”

(Shameless self-promotion here. If you haven’t read my latest book, you are missing out on some great stories from my career as well as the definitive history of sports media. You can purchase it here via Amazon, or message me to arrange for a personally signed copy.) Madness from Amazon

(And now, back to the column)

It takes a special kind of person to be a referee or umpire. In earlier times, you rarely knew the names of these people but now we know all of them and we know how many calls they’ve blown and how many times they’ve been out of position and how they rank among the other officials. If you add the gambling element to the equation, officials are under even greater stress to be perfect. Nearly every game at every level of sport is streamed or televised somewhere. Everyone, it seems, is waiting for the officials to slip up so they can come down hard on them.

TV sports has slid, not just down a slippery slope, but right into the broadcasting abyss. The more angles it has to show a play, the more confused we become. As a viewer, I want to see every angle so I can draw my own conclusion. TV has provided that information, but, sadly, at the expense of the officials.

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February 1, 2024. Outfielder Yasiel Puig playing for Venezuela in the Caribbean World Series vs. Dominican Republic.

He’s not the first outcast to play in the Canadian Baseball League, a.k.a. the “Intercounty League”, but he might be the most notorious since a Cy Young winner from a half-century ago.

35 year old Yasiel Puig, a one-time superstar with the LA Dodgers, will be introduced to the Toronto media on May the 4th (insert joke here) at a brewery in the Distilley district of the city. He is expected to start for his new team, the Maple Leafs, in their opener on May 10th at Christie Pits. First pitch is 2:00 p.m. He’ll be able to play five games before he’s due in a Los Angeles court to be sentenced to up to 15 years in federal prison. I wouldn’t blame Puig if he has other things on his mind besides baseball. I know I would.

Will Yasiel Puig be patrolling the Pits outfield or a prison yard this summer?

The CEO of the Maple Leafs baseball club is Keith Stein, a nice fellow who I met last year at the home opener. He says the Leafs have done their due diligence, and feel that Puig’s problems have been “dealt with”. Sounds ominous to me. But how else are you going to create a buzz for the 11th most popular sports team in Toronto? From a marketing standpoint, the signing of Puig is a huge risk. Stein says he’ll be the highest paid player in the league. That’s kind of like being called the world’s tallest midget. Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.

Yasiel Puig has been a controversial figure since defecting from Cuba in 2012 in what was described as a “harrowing” process. Part kidnapping, part extortion. He was a legitimate five-tool baseball player, and runner-up as NL Rookie of the Year in 2013 with the Dodgers. But, by all accounts, he was/is as dumb as a post (Grade 3 education) and unmanageable on and off the diamond. (Don’t touch me, I’m a real live wire…)

During his career, he was suspended multiple times for fighting, laziness and insubordination. He was accused of sexual assault on three separate occasions, but financial settlements were reached with the accusers and no charges were ever brought. He’s been charged twice with reckless driving, with both charges later dismissed. Then there’s his involvement in a major gambling ring where he was betting illegally and losing hundreds of thousands of dollars while incurring huge debts to bookmakers. He was interviewed extensively about his involvement and knowledge of certain illegal gambling activities and managed to escape justice during the two-year federal investigation. He was also out of major league baseball, plying his trade in various other countries.

Earlier this year, though, Puig was convicted of lying to federal authorities and obstructing justice. His lawyers claim he didn’t understand the English language when he was being interviewed, even though there was a Spanish-speaking interpreter seated alongside. The federal prosecutors said Puig understood perfectly and knew exactly what he was saying. Puig was convicted on both counts, and released on his own recognizance. The judge may have placed travel restrictions on him. It’s possible that he was given permission to travel in order to make a living because he still has debts to pay before he heads to prison.

Of all the former major league players to sign, is this the fellow you want your young fans emulating? I mean, it won’t be the first time a big-name player tries to revitalize his career in a lesser league, but what does it say to the fan base you’re trying to grow when you sign someone of questionable character?

It says here’s your chance to see the best player in the league in May, because by June he’ll be playing for San Quentin in the California Penal League.

It says we don’t care that he’s already been convicted on charges of lying and obstruction of justice, we think he can bring out some crowds and give this new league and my team the attention it needs. With the World Cup coming here, the Maple Leafs will have to fight even harder to get a portion of your sporting dollar this season.

Maybe Stein, a lawyer, knows the sentencing judge in California, and can get Puig’s hearing delayed until after the baseball season. What is it they say about justice delayed? Or maybe he’s just hoping to pull off a publicity stunt similar to the one that featured the London Majors Intercounty team and the legendary baseball bad boy, Denny McLain.

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New England Patriots coach Mike Vrabel and NFL reporter Dianna Russini luxuriating by the pool at a fancy resort in Arizona. Photo courtesy of Page Six.

“When you’re married but not to each other
You gotta be careful everywhere you go
Tryin’ to avoid everyone you know
‘Cause people talk, you know they talk”

Song by Barbara Mandrell.

People talk. People tweet. People make assumptions. And everybody has an opinion about NFL reporter Diana Russini, a married woman who was working for The Athletic (owned by the New York Times) when she was caught on camera at a fancy adults-only resort in Arizona, holding hands and hot-tubbing with New England Patriots head coach Mike Vrabel. The photos were first published in the New York Post. Vrabel, also married, claimed the photos were innocent, and that he and Russini were part of a group of six people at the resort. He brushed it off, while Russini did likewise. But those pictures told a different story.

Almost immediately, The Athletic launched an investigation because, let’s face it, they must protect their image as a leader in sports journalism. Having your highly-paid female football reporter holding hands, fingers interlocked, with an NFL coach, and then her denying there was anything wrong and saying that “context was needed” is not going to go over well. After issuing a statement of her own, Russini soon resigned from The Athletic, likely realizing that their investigation was going to uncover a lot more than what’s already been made public. Why ruin peoples lives any more than necessary, right? The resignation letter said that it was delivered by email, which meant Russini had lawyered up for the occasion.

Dianna Russini’s resignation letter to The Athletic

But wait, it gets better. A football reporter from USA Today by the name of Crissy Froyd was pissed at Russini for acting unprofessionally and making life even more difficult for female sports reporters. Then, she made a Froydian slip by posting this gem on “X”

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