It should not be lost what a joy it was to root for the Toronto Blue Jays this incredible postseason.
An entire nation and beyond was lifted by these men from so many other places who really loved each other and wanted to win for each other. At a time of such cruelty, bullying and asinine petulance, these mostly millionaires went all in on lifting each other and by extension fans from coast to coast to coast.
These were veterans who were supposed to be washed up; raw, raw rookies who had no business having such confidence and poise. Utility guys nobody ever paid much attention to before. A potty-mouthed manager everybody wanted fired six months earlier. Stars with injuries so bad it was painfully clear that they could hardly run or swing a bat. An exceptionally playful superstar with such a genuine smile who charmed and delivered. It all added up to an inspiring example of how the team is more than just a collection of talented individuals. These guys wrote a script straight out of Ted Lasso.
Canada was starved for this. Like never before, we needed a team to rally behind and carry us. We needed an example that goodness can propel. We even secretly needed to cheer on mostly Americans who played their guts out for mostly Canadians.
The Toronto Blue Jays pushed a juggernaut to a tiny space between a wall and a playing field. Only a superhuman effort from a pitcher who could throw a ball seven different ways, all unhittable and do it 130 times two games in a row, kept them from their ultimate goal. Hats off to Yoshinobu Yamamoto, what a performance under pressure.
Congratulations to the Los Angeles Dodgers. Thinking today of my late, great friend and former LA neighbour Dave Pearson. A Brooklyn native, he bled Dodger blue and was revered around Chavez ravine as the chef at the Dodger clubhouse. He made meals for Vin Scully at least 81 times a year and named other specialties after Tommy Lasorda. When he died in his seventies, his widow Sherry did me the honour of asking me to emcee his celebration of life at the Dodger clubhouse. At that event, I shook Rick Monday’s hand despite what he did to the Expos. Oral Hersheiser was also representing. This was nearly a decade ago and the Jays had a very good team then as well; so good the dream of a Blue Jays-Dodgers World series seemed someday possible.
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It finally happened. Not the ending I wanted, but I can’t help feeling so much more was delivered than a trophy. I miss Dave, and wish we could talk about these games and how this team with so many of the qualities I admired in him – dignity, competitiveness, talent, focus and heart – pushed his team, the defending champs, to the very limit. He would have laughed, put on Oscar Peterson, and then serve the best damn meal you ever tasted.
