The Blue Jays and the power of love
Dejected Toronto Blue Jays fans after the Blue Jays lost to the LA Dodgers in Game 7 of the World Series on Saturday in Toronto.Brett Gundlock/Getty Images
Minutes after the heartbreaking end of the World Series, the TV cameras panning over the stadium crowd caught a young boy with bright red hair, his head buried in his arms. A guy who must have been his father laid a consoling hand on his back.
The father was looking away into the distance, saying nothing. There was nothing to say. This was unbearable. We were so close. Then a couple of dagger-in-the-heart home runs, a swing, a broken bat and it was all over.
No words could ease the hurt that the boy was feeling. One day, though – not soon, but in the generosity of time – he may come to understand that he witnessed something rare and beautiful these past weeks.
The Toronto Blue Jays barely registered in the country’s consciousness till they won their American League division in September. They finished dead last in that division in 2024.
Jays fans say thank you to the Blue Jays players and they expect the team to be back in the World Series in 2026.
The Jays faced the most famous team in baseball in the first round of the playoffs: the New York Yankees. But they prevailed, three games to one. Next, they beat the Seattle Mariners, coming back after losing the first two games and taking the series 4-3.
By then, the country had fallen head over heels for the Jays and their roster of unlikely heroes. Trey Yesavage, the rangy 6-foot-4 rookie who had started in precisely three major-league games before becoming a star pitcher in the playoffs. Alejandro Kirk, the squat, broad-faced Mexican who was a force both at home plate and behind it. Addison Barger, the handsome 25-year-old with a howitzer in place of an arm.
They were truly Canada’s team. Amid all the whooping, groaning and nail biting, the country’s troubles seemed to fade away. For a few weeks at least, Canadians could stop fretting about tariffs, the cost of groceries, the housing crisis, separatism in Alberta and the inevitably of winter.
Instead, they could turn their minds to more important things. Would ace hitter Bo Bichette come back from an injury and play in the Series? (He would.) Could slugger George Springer recover from the injury he suffered when swinging at a pitch in Game 3 (He did.) Would Mr. Yesavage keep mowing down batters like a combine in a wheat field? (He would, and enter the record books in the bargain.)
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Improbably, a team made up mostly of Americans brought Canadians together, making the often-trivial differences among us seem like mere background noise. Everyone was talking about the Jays. Everyone was rooting for the Jays. In the moment, nothing else seemed to matter.
What stood out about this crew was not just how likeable they were but how much they liked each other. Here was a group of guys who found real joy in simply being together. Baseball is a kids’ game, at heart, and they were like eight-year-olds at the park on a summer afternoon, laughing and playing in the sunlight.
Most of us don’t get a chance to experience that kind of fellowship. To witness it was thrilling. It showed us what marvels people can accomplish when they work as one, each of them doing their part.
Everyone contributed something. Vladimir Guerrero Jr. – “Vladdy” to us all – proved he was born ready by blasting singles, doubles, homers and a spectacular grand slam. Ernie Clement contributed hit after hit, notching a postseason record. The mustachioed Davis Schneider blasted the first pitch of Game 5 over the fence. His dad, watching in the stands, went nuts.
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They took as much delight in the triumphs of their comrades as they did in their own. Even in defeat, all they could talk about was how much they meant to each other. When pitcher Jeff Hoffman said after the final game that he had cost every one of his teammates a World Series ring by failing to shut down the Los Angeles Dodgers, Mr. Clements replied: “I’d go to war with Jeff Hoffman every day of the week.”
It was unusual in his sport, he said, fighting back tears, to serve on a team that “really feels for one another, and loves each other.” Instead of wanting to flee the scene of the defeat, “all I care about is just hanging with these guys for, you know, another couple hours.”
That was the spirit that won the hearts of the nation this past month. And that was the lesson the Jays taught us. The power of unity. The power of connection. The power of love.
Far more than talent or strength, those are the things that matter. The proof was right there in front of us on the baseball field, unfolding before our dazzled eyes.
As crushed as he may feel now, the boy with the red hair was lucky to see it. So were we all.