Last night I went to a baseball game. It was the most nerve-wracking, most exhilarating,
most amazing thing I’ve ever witnessed – and it was 22 years in the making. You see, I was
a Blue Jays fan from a young age, and then in the summer of 1992, I moved to Malta,
missing both World Series-winning teams and all the fun surrounding them.
Here I am in 1992 in full Blue Jays garb and with a blue bird on my head.
Anyways, last night. The afternoon started inauspiciously enough. Saffron let us all go home early
(thanks Saffron!), so I made my way to meet my friends and head to the ballpark. We were nervous
but buoyant. Jays! Playoffs! Deciding game!
The early-going was tense. Texas jumped to a lead. Encarnacion later tied it up with a home-run.
We went crazy. And then all hell broke loose.
No one had any idea why Odor was allowed to score, and some people in the 500s started
throwing garbage on the field. One projectile even hit a baby (don’t throw things at babies!).
Police came on the field, players took cover, my phone died,
and we couldn’t believe what we were seeing.
When the game finally resumed, they put “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” on, and everyone booed until
The remainder of the seventh inning was even more insane. Three Texas fielding errors. Bases loaded.
Donaldson (barely) drives in a run. And then this. My goodness.
One of the greatest home runs in Blue Jays history. The greatest bat flip in MLB history.
Greatest sporting moment of my life. Jose Bautista is a legend forever.
We did it! On to the ALCS!