The first thing that came to my mind when the Blue Jays lost in Game 7 of the Word Series in November was the last line of the 1888 poem “Casey at the Bat.”
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.
I am not, particularly, a baseball fan. I did not watch a single game in the regular season, or even the American League finals versus the Seattle Mariners. Without shame, I am a bandwagon baseball fan. But I’m pretty sure that this series was about more than baseball.
The Jays were able to do what no politician, no convoy, no government has ever been able to accomplish. We were the underdogs, up against the mightiest of the mighty, the New York Yankees and the Los Angeles Dodgers. In the end, the Jays may have lost the crown, but instead, won the hearts of a nation. It’s often said that winning is everything. But there is something meaningful in collective hunger, shared effort, and the experience of failing together.
The final game was heart pounding. That is, aside from the times my heart stood still. At other times there was a body enveloping tenseness that only baseball can produce. In other sports, the clock ticks, the distance to the end can be measured, the clock can be merciful. Instead, in baseball, time is measured in events, and the intervals between can be excruciating. You know that in seconds it will be time for agony or ecstasy, but it depends on what happens, not on the clock.
Cathal Kelly, writing in the Globe and Mail, said the point of sports was not just the joy of winning, but sharing sadness in loss. Well, the loss to the Dodgers in game seven certainly provided plenty of opportunity for that. I recall that feeling in the final moments of the game, when I knew we were facing the abyss – comforted that there were millions feeling the same thing. My wife echoed an idea that had been bouncing around my head – we should have had a parade to thank the Jays, and the nation for this special moment we shared. I am told that people across Canada were able to set aside their dislike of Toronto for this – in itself a remarkable thing. For a moment, Alberta wasn’t separating. One fan said, “I am willing to overlook even my disdain for the Leafs to support the Blue Jays.”
I watched a number of the games on Fox Sports. Despite the reputation of Fox, they were even handed, respectful of Canada and I think recognized they were seeing an historic event. They would never know what this meant to us as a nation; I did not expect this. But they remained objective, expert sports commentators. If there is a sense of American fair play, they exemplified it. Their depictions of Canada were not caricatures, as they were in 1992 when they showed kids in hockey equipment with catcher’s mitts and bats.
These past weeks have been an exhilarating ride, filled with emotional highs and lows. There is already talk of what next year might bring. As for myself you may just find me at the Rogers Centre once or twice next summer, drawn in by the promise of these magical Jays.
