With the Blue Jays back in town, the most essential question for fans coming to Rogers Centre this weekend is: “Whose player shirsey should I buy?”
(A quick side note off the top for those who are unfamiliar with the term. “Shirsey” is a portmanteau, bringing together the words “shirt” and “jersey,” and refers to the t-shirts which roughly emulate the team jersey with a player’s name and number on the back. They’re ubiquitous.)
The choice of a shirsey is not one to be taken lightly. At $50 a pop after tax, you probably can’t afford to buy up the whole roster’s t-shirts, so in this instance, it’s truly the name on the back that takes precedence over the logo on the front.
Picking the right shirsey is an intensely personal choice. So how do you choose? The choice says a lot about who you are as a Blue Jays fan, and literally thousands of fellow supporters will stare at the letters between your shoulder blades for three hours on a sunny day. And all the while, they will all be judging you.
Is that you in the “Lawrie 13” shirsey? You know what you’re telling the world? “I’m a person who doesn’t even care about baseball, I’m a Leafs fan and I’m just here to drink with my bros.”
Are you going to show up in a “Price 14” shirsey? You’re telling people: “Hey, I’ve been a fan for less than six months, but my favourite part of baseball is the personalized bathrobes and tiny dogs.”
Are you showing up in “Arencibia 9” gear? You might as well just walk around the concourse yelling “I miss the Team Unit paraphernalia! Bring that back and take my money!”
Not that I’m judging. You’re reading the words of a man whose closet hides some truly dubious shirsey choices. Troy Glaus, anyone? Or how about replacing a Yunel Escobar shirsey with a Jose Reyes model?
But from many mistakes comes great wisdom. (Ask John Farrell.) And as such, I’ll share with you some of my personal, angst-ridden process that accompanies the annual shirsey purchase.
Here are the questions you need to ask yourself before making this commitment. You should probably step to the side of the kiosk as you ponder them.
Am I a curse?
Seriously, if you were born under a bad sign let me make a humble suggestion: Don’t buy a shirsey. The last thing we need is you smearing your bad juju all over one of the core players as you traipse around, carrying his name on your back. Settle for one of the free giveaway jerseys, and maybe give away your Devon Travis tee to someone a bit more blessed. Better still, buy yourself a Red Sox jersey.
How do I feel about numerology?
You can’t spend half your life watching grown men gallivanting around with numerals on their backs and not have a weird relationship with the digits. Roberto Osuna is awesome, but do you really want a number as inauspicious as 54 emblazoned on your back? Even Josh Donaldson’s number 20 seems a bit dull for such a bright star. But J.A. Happ’s number 33? That’ll work. Multiples of 11 always look good.
Is the player still worth celebrating?
Look, I have no doubt that Troy Tulowitzki’s final numbers this season are going to be just fine. And crossing my fingers, he’ll be loved and admired for the many, many years remaining on his contract. But maybe hold off until his first really good month with the Jays.
Should I personalize a shirsey with my own name/nickname?
No. Stop it.
Is this a long-term investment?
Is this the one shirsey you’ll buy this decade? Then maybe you’ll want to avoid one of the upcoming free agents. Maybe you are the world’s biggest Michael Saunders fan, but can you risk having your fan garb fall out of favour so quickly? And even if you are made of money, do you really want to toss that Brett Cecil into a purgatory for 100% cotton?
As an addendum, there are three rules for wearing the jersey of a since-departed player:
1) The player must have left more than one season ago, and/or must still be vaguely lovable for his past performance as a Blue Jay.
So Adam Lind, Casey Janssen and Eric Thames shirseys are cool now. Wear ‘em if you’ve got ‘em. (And I do!) You should probably avoid pulling on your Reyes or Price or Daniel Norris shirts, at least for now. Shea Hillenbrand is probably a bad life choice. (Ask J.P. Ricciardi.) We are still awaiting rulings on the permissibility of Eric Hinske or Alex Rios gear. Although this does lead to the next essential rule.
2) Ditch the black.
The team on the field did it, so why can’t you? Leave the Angry Jay where he belongs, and don’t even bother suiting up for the game in your black Lyle Overbay or John McDonald gear. I don’t care if it is slimming, or how much of a nice guy Frank Catalanotto was. Your B.J. Ryan shirt might be ironically cool, but save it for house parties in the Annex. Don’t bring that smarm to a game.
3) If the player is transcendentally awesome, the rules above and cooling off periods need not apply.
There was never a bad time to wear a Roy Halladay shirt, though it’s far more tasteful if there are no Phillies logos on it. A year from now, you’ll still be able to pull off Jose Bautista gear regardless of where he’s playing, because it’ll never go out of style. Encarnacion would be a borderline case based on his performance.
And yet, I wouldn’t look poorly on someone sporting a Kawasaki or Mark Buehrle shirt this year. Their likability places them in another dimension. These rules aren’t necessarily rigid.
In summation, the key is to find a shirsey that you’ll be proud and pleased to wear for years to come.
So who’s kidding who? It’s “Stroman 6” for all of you.
