You'd know him if you saw him. He's the quiet guy with the terminal Fred Flintstone five o'clock shadow and the smooth left uppercut.
For a small fee I will organize your local parade because another Canadian MLB player was recently crowned the National League Most Valuable Player.
When I say another I should remind you there were only two Canadians before Cincinnati's Joey Votto to ever accomplish this feat and Votto came within one vote of a unanimous choice for the trophy.
Votto lost his father a few years back and battled dark stretches of depression and then came apart at the seams when he found out he had actually beat out the immortal Albert Pujols, who happens to be a first ballot Hall of Famer. Votto must have had the same kind of parenting and coaching that my middle son enjoyed. It is déjà vu. Father's live vicariously through their blood and in time, that commitment is recognized, but often too late.
Endless hours of playing catch as soon as the snow receded off of the main arteries of our respective communities and indoor winter clinics to polish their obvious natural talent suggests they are twins from different mothers.
The only difference between them is Votto chose to succeed at baseball come hell or high water while my son battles high water as a plumber. Other than that they are like brothers.
When he received notification of winning the award, Votto could only weep in the absence of sharing such a glorious moment with his dad.
My boy weeps when the Jays lose. Depression seems to run in the family.
This is a touching and patriotic time for all of us who struggle with weather-shortened schedules and kids who live for the game, but never get scouted and signed for their sheer athletic potential.
My plumber was throwing 88 MPH fastballs as a skinny 17-year-old and two years later I needed cataract surgery just to play catch with him. But then the haunting call of plugged toilets robbed the MLB of another flame-throwing pitcher.
He grew and filled out like most plumbers do - while Votto morphed into a chiseled 63? 230-pound-hitting machine leading the Reds during the thrilling 2010 season where they contended for the pennant. It might be time for a forensic CSI MiamiDNA test.
Maybe his dad made better spaghetti sauce then I do, but growing up in Toronto, Votto faced a similar uphill battle while playing high school baseball at the same high school as Stephen Harper in Etobicoke, Ont. Living north of the 49th parallel has its setbacks, but something tells me our Prime Minister never donned a baseball jersey let alone hit a 450 tape measure blast regardless of the weather or a Senate full of hand picked cronies I digress.
For the record, Votto hit an incredible .556 against the best players on the planet in therecent World Baseball Classic and suddenly the cat was out the bag. He can't run like Larry Walker or field like Justin Morneau, but he is ours and he is currently the best in the business.
May his accomplishments inspire you to be the best Canadian plumber or home care nurse you can be.
FYI, he is due for salary arbitration in 2011, so if you have relatives in Ohio tell them their taxes are about to skyrocket. He'll soon be able to afford the newest 11- blade Fusion whisker extractor and still have pocket change for tortellini.
On a side note, remind me to send a note to my long lost relative Josh Hamilton, who cruised to the AL MVP hardware in the faint hope he may put me on his Christmas list. Other than the years of drug abuse and obsessive tattoos, he looks and acts like any other Hamilton. Bravo.
It is a proud day for all of usCanucks and a moment of deep reflection for plumbers. Pull up your damn pants and be the MVP of the world of wrenches, as you fixother peoples leaks. All hail Joey Votto but call me if you have any plumbing issues because my son needs tortellini too.
