Game 7, the day after

On the Blue Jays' heartbreaking loss in the World Series and the meaning of a postseason run my city will never forget

Last night’s loss at the Skydome has left me feeling heavier than I think I’ve ever felt after a game. As a longtime Leafs fan, I’ve certainly felt some version of this before. But there is something about the Blue Jays’ defeat that feels at once singularly devastating and cosmically unfair. If the Jays had flamed out in the second round or made the World Series only to be felled by Los Angeles in four or five games, I don’t think this would be quite so hard. No one expected them to get there in the first place, after all, and to even win a single game against the mighty Dodgers would have been a moral victory for the underdogs even if they had ultimately lost the way they were supposed to.

This, on the other hand, hurts so much more because the Jays spent the month of October proving again and again — to foes and fans alike — that they weren’t, finally, underdogs at all. Instead, plain and simple, they were a team everyone could see was good enough to win the World Series on merit whether rooting for them or not. I’ll remember this squad as one of the best I’ve ever had the privilege of watching play in any sport, and know I’m destined to spend the next several days reliving every play from games 6 and 7 with a mixture of disbelief and frustration, mentally cycling through the same, fundamentally unanswerable questions as everyone else in the city who watched.

Why, and by what karmic conspiracy, did Alejandro Kirk’s bat have to shatter on that final hit? Why were the umpires giving Shohei Ohtani extra time between pitching and hitting, and what might have been if they hadn’t? That strike called when Davis Schneider went to bat in the 8th was very clearly a ball. I don’t know for sure if Kiner-Falefa was actually safe when he slid into home in the ninth, but it sure looked like it to me, and why didn’t they spend more time reviewing it? Also, that “lodged ball” thing in Game 6 was bullshit and the Dodgers won on an arcane technicality.

Et cetera et cetera et cetera…

I know countless others in the city are having exactly the same thoughts today. And, at the risk of repeating myself: this totally sucks. The Blue Jays deserved to win, and — because of how games 6 and 7 played out especially — this outcome feels both heartbreaking and existentially unfair.

If nothing else, there will be plenty of warmer thoughts and memories to keep Jays fans company too: George Springer’s epic Game 7 homerun against the Mariners; Trey Yesavage’s record-shattering pitching performances; the serene, effortless swagger of Vladimir Guerrero Jr. every time he approached the plate, and so much more. I don’t usually get emotional about this sort of thing. But, what can I say? Ernie Clement’s earnest little speeches about the power of friendship were working on me 100% by the end.

In the best sense, I also can’t recall another month in Toronto quite like this last one. I have called this city my home for the whole of my adult life (I was born in Newfoundland and raised in rural southwestern Ontario) and the shared warmth around the Blue Jays has been indescribably wonderful to see, feel, and be a part of — unlike anything I’ve experienced. Over the past few weeks I’ve found myself reflecting so much on all the things I love about Toronto: its food, its teams, its neighbourhoods, its people. And whether they were born here or came from somewhere else like I did, I know countless others have inadvertently found themselves doing exactly the same.

Sports can be a great equalizer, a fact that holds just as true in disappointment as it does in triumph. Somehow, watching this group of guys play baseball has allowed a precious kind of civic solidarity to bloom. That might not be rational, and it probably isn’t. I think it’s beautiful nonetheless.

I don’t usually write posts like this and was originally planning to add some related political thoughts here, but after writing the above I think that can wait. Last night didn’t go the way millions of us hoped it would. But these guys truly gave it their all and did the city proud. Nothing but love, respect, and gratitude to our Blue Jays.