Go Jays! by Jeff Tribe

 

                                 https://www.bookswelove.com/authors

Toronto Blue Jays.

Too soon?

For some of us, it definitely is.

I’m given to understand yelling at the TV does not help.

However, that didn’t prevent some… many of us perhaps from doing so. Maybe during the 18-inning marathon. And for sure in game seven.

Gosh, wouldn’t it have been nice to get one more hit… one more out… one more break?

Charles Darwin might explain humanity’s tendency to remember painful experiences better than joyous ones as some form of evolutionary safeguard. A cave person stung by a bee reminded to be cautious while gathering honey. Those with a healthy fear of snakes more likely to pass on their genes. And Jays’ fans suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous opponents’ home runs less likely to give their hearts over to hope beyond hope.

The addiction can run deep. Back to awakenings another baseball team existed in Canada besides the Montreal Expos. Following their gradual rise from a joke playing in a snowy Exhibition Stadium home opener.

My wife, sister and brother-in-law were there in 1985 when George Bell squeezed the final out against the New York Yankees to clinch their first post-season appearance. I took my father, invited as a youth for a tryout with a St. Louis Cardinals farm team, to that first game, standing along the top row behind home plate as Dave Steib shut down the Kansas City Royals. 

Our family was staying at The Parrot’s Nest on Sanibel Island in Florida when Ed Sprague took Jeff Reardon into the left field bleachers to win game one of the 1992 World Series. We got back to Canada to celebrate on home turf, and the following year, enjoyed an anniversary supper quickly enough to watch Joe Carter walk off the ’93 classic.

Ah, the good old days.

Our family has carried the tradition on into another couple of generations. Group outings to opening day - or night - has evolved into opening weekend Sunday in order to both avoid the gong show the first home game can be, and secondly, reflect the value of getting young ones to bed in a timelier fashion. We’ve ridden the team’s ups and downs together, while hoping for another magical season.

Not so much for ourselves, but so those other generations can experience it too.

This year was so close. 

So close.

We got together for games, friends and family gatherings sharing the excitement, wearing Jays jerseys, hearts firmly on their sleeves. Really, one couldn’t have written a better script - with one slight exception. Those who suggest a romance novel follows a predictable arc might be reminded of the value of a happy ending.

I’ll get over it… sooner or later. And to be fair, it was a wonderful ride as well as an educational experience: watching the games with one’s women and female grandchildren revealed a whole new understanding of until this point, under-appreciated aspects of the game.

It turns out Bo Bichette suffered a Sampson effect: far less attractive since he cut his hair. Addison Barger is beautiful but has a wife and three kids. There was sadness in the clan when Trey Yesavage proposed to his fiancé, although the young ones agreed his world series bonus would buy a pretty nice ring, and that he’ll probably be able to afford a ‘really cool’ wedding with his new contract. The fact Ernie Clement had a record 30 hits in the post-season and a .411 battering average was great, but he’s also the cutest unmarried Blue Jay. And in a few years when the oldest female grandkids turn 20, they figure the age gap would mean a lot less.

Don’t yell at the TV apparently - live, learn and laugh.

After all, as they pointed out, there’s always next year. New hopes, new dreams - and apparently, a year closer to connecting with Ernie Clement. Longish odds arguably - but if it were to happen, a pretty decent chance at free tickets.

Go Jays!