ARTS & CULTURE
Tuesday, November 10, 2015 15
Danforth
Blue Jays
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There is a self-referential quality to their work, as
Hansi takes on the character of a bard telling stories
by a campfire as much as a performer playing to a
crowd, recalling folkloric traditions rather than
theatrical metal fantasies. It’s participatory and
inclusive in a way that other shows are not, and it
all came to a head at the encore. After priming us
with the Red Mirror/Edge of Time one-two punch of
“Sacred Worlds” and “Twilight of the Gods,” Blind
Guardian ended with Follow the Blind’s bloodpumping “Valhalla.” Traditionally the chanting goes
on as long as the audience will let it, with Hansi and
Thomas only occasionally pitching in with vocals and
drums to test if the crowd’s ready to shut up yet. It
took us a while.
Show over, encore over, they left the stage, and the
cheering rose in volume. We knew better than that.
It wouldn’t be a Blind Guardian show without “The
Bard’s Song.”
If you asked me what my favourite Blind Guardian
song is, I’d be overwhelmed by choice, but if there’s
any song that cuts to the essence of what Blind
Guardian is about, it’s “The Bard’s Song.” Folkloric
to the heart, it invites their listeners to understand
that every subsequent song is part of a larger story.
Through listening, the audience becomes part of the
telling. Their only acoustic piece of the night, it’s a
simple melody, almost lullaby-like, but it gained a
primal sorrow as the entire audience hall howled it
out, holding that one last melancholy note as long as
they could.
Finally, emotionally exhausted, the crowd was
ready for one final piece, and the band ended with the
structurally perfect “Mirror Mirror” from Nightfall.
This song has as everything that Blind Guardian does
well—a bold, brash beginning, a rousing chorus,
unexpected variations, high-energy but also weirdly
sad.
Blind Guardian’s Toronto experience was
technically superb, a careful balance of old favourites
and new ballads, and raw and wild in a way I wasn’t
sure either of us were capable of anymore. u
ê A definition of a winner: Juan Guzmán went 16-5 in the regular reason and 2-0 in the playoffs for the 1992 Toronto
Blue Jays. (Source: VoxCdn.)
helping Toronto defeat Oakland in the ALCS as he
went 2-0 with an outstanding 2.08 ERA in two starts
by out-dueling Athletics starters Ron Darling on 10
October 1992 and Mike Moore on 14 October in games
three and five, in which the Blue Jays won 7-5 and
9-2 respectively. Guzmán was equally effective in the
World Series against Atlanta. Despite recording a no
decision in his only start on 20 October, he pitched
eight strong innings in game three with a minuscule
1.13 ERA while yielding only one earn run. He also
struck out seven Braves hitters while only walking on
batter.
Verdict: Although Estrada effectively outperformed
David Price—and perhaps Marcus Stroman as well—
because Estrada was the de facto ace of the staff in
the playoffs, we simply cannot ignore the fact that
Guzmán’s numbers are better than Estrada overall,
particularly when it comes to their performance in
the regular season. Also, while both Estrada (1-0) and
Guzmán (2-0) had a perfect record in the first round
of the postseason, the latter has twice as many wins
as the former, not to mention that the latter secured
those wins in a more high-leverage situation (albeit
there were no ALDS back in 1992). Hence, I say
Guzmán gets the nod by a step.
Final Words: It is hard to argue that the 2015 edition
of the Blue Jays had a better mid-rotation than its
1992 counterpart, or vice versa, given the notable
contributions that both Estrada and Guzmán made
to their respective teams and that they are both solid
starters. However, whereas Estrada is more of an
unremarkable yet reliable pitcher whose trademark
is steadiness with the ability to “come up big” under
desperate situations, Guzmán was close to lights out as
a near-ace without the ace label (which was bestowed
upon Morris). On that note, I would say that the
1992 version of the Blue Jays had an ever-so-slightly
comparative advantage than its 2015 counterpart.
On deck: My evaluation of the back-end of the
starting rotation for the two editions (2015 and 1992)
of the Toronto Blue Jays. Be sure to tune into Part Five!
Curve
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LGBT rights, nothing is said or done about disability,
gender orientation or socioeconomic background.
Competitive classroom models can also introduce
arbitrary disadvantage. In some classes, one case
citation might separate an A from a B. Moreover,
professors use dissimilar methods of evaluation. Some
construct elaborate matrices of laws and principles to
rank exams. Others randomly check things off and
“get a feel” for the answer. In some seminars, law
students with an A average could be downgraded
to a B to curve a dozen students. The insistence on
maintaining degrees of relative difference verges on
absurdity.
The most concerning part is that the curve bleaches
out a diversity of intellectual approaches by rewarding just one variety. Law is a service-based profession
built on the billable hour. Fact-pattern based questions essentially require examinees to play the role of
a judge under severe time constraints. Like the LSAT,
these exams reward a discrete skill set that is not
reflective of lawyering potential or ability. The current system does not recognize the need for emotional
and social intelligence, or the ability to empathize and
work well in teams. Bleaching out these alternative
and diverse approaches to problem-solving renders
the curriculum intellectually bankrupt.
In the real world, policy is driven by fact, analyzed
in comparison and improved through consistent
reevaluation. Leading law schools around the world
have disposed of the curve in favour of alternative
methods of evaluation. Yale Law School has no formal
curve. U of T Law has done away with lettered grades,
and softened the grading profile. Outside the discipline, facul