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| having slid-in / having slidden |
José Soriano allowed just three runs over seven innings, a noble effort (and literal "quality" start) to be sure, but all three runs came through the first four innings, necessitating an inherently charismatic four-run Blue Jays comeback which, this time, took the shape of two in each of both the fifth and sixth, aided in no small measure (materially, æsthetically, spiritually) by the baserunning heroics of first Brett Bateman (scoring from second on a bases-loaded ball-four wild pitch? who has ever seen such a thing? not me! literally ever! this is some Alfredo Griffin-level stuff!) and then, crucially, Alejandro Kirk, who followed his go-ahead RBI-single in the sixth with a wonderful steal of second base, only the second of his career (he's two-for-two!). The forty-odd thousand assembled at the SkyDome, it goes without saying, went nuts about it, with a full-on standing ovation and the whole works. There was much to cheer on the day, plenty of it coming even before the game started, as it was time for Buck Martinez's much anticipated induction into the newly constituted Blue Jays Hall of Excellence (physically located in the 100s right-field concourse, as I understand it), not to be confused with the previous Blue Jays Level of Excellence (as manifested around the 200s), with all members of the old Level now recognized in the new Hall—plus with Buck, now, too! The ceremony was all handled wonderfully, honestly, with just the right amount of speechifying from just the right people, nothing at all rushed but nothing extraneous, either, and nobody left in a position to even lightly embarrass themselves or anything (always my concern with this sort of thing, honestly). Everybody loves Buck, and it was great that they did this for him while he and his family are all still in good health and able to travel for it and really enjoy the day, which they certainly seemed to do. Much was made throughout the ceremony, of course, of Buck as a gritty player, a likeable manager, a beloved broadcaster, and an important member of the community in terms of charitable works (it was a nice touch that there was a Challenger Baseball distinction named in his honour, and a sports broadcasting scholarship made available in his name at Toronto Metropolitan), but something we didn't hear much talk about was his significant commitment to the MLBPA; they sure went into that in his career-spanning interview on the MLBPA's "Stitch x Stitch" podcast, though, which I wholeheartedly recommend to the Buck Martinez completionist. What a great guy!
Still on the subject of great guys: the new Hall of Excellence is organized around these lovely little curio-cabinet displays (I'm sure there is a museum-specific term that eludes me here in my ignorance of such matters) for each of the inducted players, and from all the photographs I've seen, they all seem really very neat. But what stood out to me, and I guess to beat reported Keegan Matheson, too, as he posted the close-up picture that am about to share with you in a moment, is the inclusion of one of Carlos Delgado's notebooks in which he would meticulously track every pitch he saw:
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| the thoughtful notes of a thoughtful guy |
Delgado was on-hand for the pregame ceremony, as were all living members of the Hall of Excellence (may peace be upon Tony Fernandez, Roy Halladay, and Tom Cheek), and he has the look of someone who is just full-on thriving in retirement, which I sincerely hope to be the case. As we draw nearer September 25th's Carlos Delgado Short-Sleeved Retro Windbreaker giveaway, I hope we all make time in our day for even more reflection on the virtues of Carlos Delgado than we usually allow ourselves.
KS
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