Vladdy at the Bat

Hope Springs Eternal in Toronto's Collective Breast

America’s national past-time is uniting Canadians this summer, more than our passion for hockey, more than our pride in Ryan Gosling and Simu Liu’s star turns as Kens in the Barbie movie. Even Michael Cera as Allan is a Canadian Ken. (I have not yet seen Barbie or Oppenheimer - would like to see both.) Why are Canadian men so gifted at portraying vapid, great-looking, bland wonders? I don’t know, but there is an obvious joke to be made about our current Prime Minister, is there not? At any rate, baseball has done for this country what politics cannot: brought us together, at least during Toronto Blue Jays games.

It isn’t simply that we have, in the Jays, a competitive team, though we do. We have won World Series in the past, but the Jays are now our only team, and to add to it, all the pent-up pandemic demand for activities is exploding. During the lockdowns – Toronto had among the strictest and the longest – the Jays played most home games in Buffalo. Too many border requirements for players to enter Canada made that the easier option.

For Torontonians, it is a treat. The rest of Canada usually hates us – “the centre of the universe” is our sneering national nickname - and many take delight in the eternal failure of our hockey team, the Maple Leafs (should that not be the “Maple Leaves”?). The Leafs have not won a Stanley Cup since 1967 and this sad fact has become something of a cross-country joke. Canadian teams have been shut out of the Stanley Cup playoffs more and more as American franchises excel – Las Vegas took home the Cup in 2023. Yes, the players may be mostly Canadian, but that is meagre solace.

[Actual blue jay. Photo: Rondi Adamson, 2022]

In stark contrast, people are coming from every province and territory to support the Jays. Border games in American cities are experiencing a Canadian invasion, and even California and Florida, where many snowbirds live. I know Canadians who chose Florida as a spring vacation spot so they could watch the Jays during spring training. The passion is wide and intense, something Canadian media is happy to indulge. Sportsnet, a Canadian sports specialty channel, opens coverage of Jays games with dramatic music and the words, “One nation, one team.” And what Canadian viewer doesn’t know and love anchor Hazel Mae? At last weekend’s Seattle games there were thousands of Toronto fans present. It seemed as though most of the crowd were rooting for the visitors, and one Seattle fan apparently agreed that this was a Canada vs. U.S. scenario, holding up the following sign: “People who walked on the moon, USA 12, Canada 0.” True, but we have astronaut Jeremy Hansen now, who is going to at least orbit the moon. We’ll get there. 

Canadians have long loved baseball. This isn’t new. An early memory for me is of one of my brothers positively losing his mind when Hank Aaron broke Babe Ruth’s home run record. Fast forward to 2023, and Jays players are stunned at the attention they are receiving. When someone like me – not famous for love of any sport, as a player or viewer – knows who “Vladdy” and “Bo” are, something is in the ether. The players might be American, Dominican, Puerto Rican, Japanese, or, more rarely, Canadian, but they are Canada’s team. Past foes, such as former Tampa Bay Ray Kevin Kiermaier, have become favourites, proving Jerry Seinfeld’s “cheering for laundry” line. Kiermaier has commented on his surprise at the enthusiasm of Canadian fans. Guerrero is something of a mascot, as he was born in Montreal and named for his father, who was playing for the Montreal Expos at the time. Incidentally, my partner insists that Vladdy Senior was named for Lenin, but I believe this is apocryphal.

For all the complaints Canadians have about our neighbours – Americans are noisy, they don’t pay us enough attention and they often elect people to whom we object - we’ve abandoned our usual eye-rolling to enjoy this ride. We’ve also adopted a little American flashiness. On Canada Day this year, the Jays home game featured a citizenship ceremony for nine new Canadians, all of whom got to throw out a pitch. It was an American-style show, complete with a huge flag and members of Canada’s military. I was moved to tears by the display. “American-style” is most often a term used with smug contempt by Canadians (particularly when followed by “healthcare” or “politics”), but I guess at the ballpark, we can get over it.