The Blue Jays managed to salvage one from the Kansas City Royals on Sunday by hitting the baseball in a timely manner.  It seems so easy when they do it which makes it all the more frustrating when they don't. 

Francisco Liriano limited a very pesky Royals team to two runs over six innings and earning his 100th career win. 

Bautista, who hit a beautiful homer to tie both the game and Joe Carter on the all-time Blue Jays RBI list, describes the homer as a bit of luck:

Despite what some in the media were saying, this was never actually the “soft” part of the schedule, particularly if you looked past the standings. The Rangers were hot. The Royals had won 11 of 13. 

The Jays now face the Orioles, the Red Sox, the Yankees and the Astros. It looks scary, but Bautista doesn't seem worried:

Just as an aside, the top definition on the Urban Dictionary for "José" goes like this:

Yeah. 

I went to the Opening Pitch event in Toronto put on by the Canadian Baseball Hall of Fame last Thursday.

I had the pleasure of meeting Roy Halladay for the first time. I wrote so much about this guy in the early days of this blog (comparing and contrasting Halladay in style and substance to A.J. Burnett was an early preoccupation). Meeting him and interacting with him was surreal. The sense I got from Doc, which matches pretty much how I imagined him, was that while he was fully appreciative of people's admiration, but a part of him wondered what the fuss was about. Doc's the guy that throws a perfect game and still does the post-start workout he'd do if he gave up 10 runs. 

He laughed when I said, "You were always so great to watch. Even when you were terrible, you were great." I didn't know how else to say it. 

I also met Vladimir Guerrero. I don't know how much English Vlad speaks (though it's clear he understands plenty.) I put my hand out for him to shake and told him, among other things, that Jays fans were very excited about his kid. He took my hand and just looked at me. Not in a creepy or awkward or sexually charged way, but like he was contemplating. Contemplating me, contemplating what I'd said, contemplating life itself. It was a little unnerving but I kind of wanted to keep looking at him and have him look at me in the quiet, contemplative way he has. But it couldn't last.

I also met Pat Hentgen, who told me he has already read my blog (which, wow). He's very affable and, for whatever reason, something about him just made me want to tease him. Not in a mean way, but Mr. Hentgen inspired quippiness in me. The look he gave me when I explained "hum and chuck" to him was great. 

The view from Miller-Thompson. 

"I don’t really know how to explain it. I just feel anxious. I feel like I’m lost a little bit right now. This has nothing to do with me being on the field. I feel great out there. It’s just when I’m out of baseball. When I’m not on the field, I feel just weird and a little bit lost.”

Somewhere in the 9th inning to post-game dank of Friday's game, there was a lot of talk about the health of Roberto Osuna.

This was a notable discussion:

As soon as Gibbons said Osuna "wasn't feeling well" on Friday and then basically shut the discussion down, I knew what that meant. Because it's my code. It's how I articulate it. I actually made a joke about it on Twitter:

Not because it's funny but because I, too, know the feeling of being lost and unsure. Like your skin is on inside out. That you are dumb or ugly or dull or just not right. Nothing feels good or right, no matter what anyone says or does. You can't make simple decisions because the imagined consequences are blaring at you. You can't pinpoint the issues because there is simultaneously no issue and every issue. 

You aren't feeling well.

One thing I will say is that while talking about it is a good thing, having to answer questions about it and having to take advice about exercise and sunshine and sleeping from every random person might not be. 

I, for one, hate talking about it, even though I understand the importance of sharing.  Mostly because I don't feel like it's anyone's business. 

And there is something to be said about minding your own damn beeswax. 

The one time I've met Roberto Osuna was at a signing in 2015- it was actually the day the Jays traded for David Price. Anyway, I had remembered that Osuna tweeted looking for good Latin, particularly Mexican, food in Toronto. I asked my friend Rodrigo, who happens to be Mexican, where he likes and told Osuna that my Mexican friend had recommended these places. Osuna looked at me with those ridiculously large, dark eyes of his and said, "I don't have any Mexican friends here." 

It stuck with me for a few reasons- one of them being that it was really funny (I fully believe he was trying to be funny) and also, yeah, moving to a whole new country where the language and the culture is completely different would be really lonely. 

A handful of reads:

Israel Fehr talked to Russell Martin for The Athletic on reading hitters' swings.  If you love either the minutiae of baseball  or just enjoy when Russell Martin talks about his craft, find an article that will do both. 

Eric Koreen, also from The Athletic, talking about Osuna's issue. 

Mark Buehrle got his number retired by the Chicago White Sox this weekend and wrote about it for The Player's Tribune. I know Chicago has his heart, but I will always love and appreciate Mark Buehrle for how he conducted himself while he was a Toronto Blue Jay. For all the advice and support he gave our current pitchers and for just being a chill dude who knows how to do it. 

One Buehrle start was so efficient, I was able to watch the whole game and still had time to get drunk on margaritas at my friend's goodbye party at El Catrin in the Distillery District. That's a direct line to a girl's heart.