Man, it’s getting tough to find any optimism about this team the way they’re playing right now.

I’m sorry, C’s players. I’m dying for you guys to play some freaking ball so I can be a mad cheering fan again and scream from the rooftops about how great you guys are and how you’ll look good in Oakland green, and maybe even be able to look you each in the eye next time I’m lurking around the BP cage without feeling like I have something to be guilty about, but holy crap, you guys have taken ’suck’ to such a high level we could plant a flag on top and charge wealthy Americans to climb it. 

Seriously.

Tonight we had another pair of errors, which between them pushed four runs across the plate. As it happens, that was three more runs than Eugene needed to put the stomp to us in our own house. 

Ten strikeouts. One walk. Five hits. Two errors.

Three shutouts in eleven games.

All but three players hitting below .220

Seriously.

I mean, it’s okay to lose. It’s okay to come in second best when you’re low on impact players and early round draftees and the other teams are filled with bonus babies. That’s alright. I can take that – just as long as you leave blood and tears out on the diamond in an effort to steal a victory each night.

Lost by four runs? Okay. But be angry when it happens. Hate it. Be determined to make the home fans proud with the way you fought a losing cause. Throw a couple up and in. Slide with your spikes up. Take out a runner at the plate. Go after that grounder you’re sure you’re gonna miss, just in case it takes a good bounce.

But don’t give us this ‘whiff whiff whiff’ BS, complete with grounders through the legs and throws into Section 7, and expect anyone to stand and applaud, because we’re not a pack of motards up here. We know the difference between ‘tried and failed’ and ‘trying to hit homeruns in a ballpark that doesn’t give many up, in an effort to pad your stats, even though the situation calls for a slap to oppy field.’

You guys are supposedly on the road to being Major Leaguers, but right now you’re being burned on a nightly basis by the second-lowest level of pro ball there is, and it’s not because you can’t play, it’s because you play like it doesn’t matter. You’re used to losing. And when you do, it’s not your fault, it’s the other guys, or the deep outfield wall, or the pitcher was just too good…

There used to be a tradition at The Nat where, when you won, the players would stick around after the game and sign autographs for the kids. It was a great tradition – one of the few things the old regime got right – and the reason it was so good was not because it was good PR (though it was) or because it generated a fan following in individual players based on personal connections (though it did).

No, the reason it was such a great thing was because it meant you guys, the players, had to stand and look the fans who spent their hard-earned money to see you play right in the eye. And if you sucked, you had to wear it.

Now? You go out there, swing and miss a few times, rack up another loss and go play some Wii. The fans are barely a factor. You might as well be playing in the Arizona League, or for the god damned Mets.

Again, I’m sorry I can’t be the ‘Yay for everybody’ guy right now. It doesn’t please me to throw stones at the home team – trust me – I’ve been doing this blog for five seasons now, and I do it because I love the team. Though more than a few players in that time have taken affront to what I’ve written about them, ten times that number benefited from the positive press when they gave their freaking all, and a whole lot of people come to this blog if they can’t make the game. Together, me, Jeremy, the fans and the players, have over the years built something that’s unique here in Vancouver. When things are good, you just don’t find this kind of information and support system at any other minor league level.

But it doesn’t come just because you’re wearing my team’s shirt. It comes because you’ll run through a wall like Larry Cobb, or take a flying shoulder tackle at a catcher like Chad Boyd, or you’ll fly around the bases like Death himself is chasing you, like Mike Massaro, or you’ll monster pitchers like Anthony Recker, or you’ll take your freaking life in your hands just running out a bunt, like Justin Sellers, or you’ll peel off eight foul tips in the bottom of the 9th when you’re losing by eight runs, like Tommy Everidge.

This is professional baseball. Play it like you’ve been here. Play it like you might not be here tomorrow, because at least three of you are at risk of that being the case.

As for the match report… you haven’t earned the privilege. Try again tomorrow.

June 27, 2008
	Final    1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9      R   H   E   Eugene   0   2   0   3   0   0   3   1   0      9   6   1   Vancouver   0   0   0   0   0   0   0   0   0      0   5   2  Recap | Box | W: S. Castro (1-0, 3.27); L: R. Morla (0-2, 5.14) HR: EUG: D. Robertson (1).

Note:

Turkish Wonder Fighter says “Be more like me!”