TORONTO – To sell or not to sell? The question had kept me awake at night for some time.
I was lucky enough in early September to secure two tickets to game seven of the World Series in Toronto (if it occurred), and as the game became a real possibility, I was painfully conflicted.
Was it better to cash in on the secondary ticket sales market – and rake in upwards of 20 times what I paid – or take my best friend to witness my favourite sports team possibly win it all?
My wife and I could sure use the money. But as a lifelong Blue Jays fan, if we sold the tickets and the Jays won, I would be kicking myself for the rest of my life.
So we made the only decision we knew I could live with – we went to the game.
The Rogers Centre was buzzing long before the first pitch and I couldn’t help but get a bit emotional during the singing of O Canada. This team, its fans, this city, and indeed the entire country, had been waiting 32 years for another shot at a World Series title.
As the game began, nerves and anxiety immediately took over, assuaged just slightly by a clean first inning.
When Bo Bichette hit a majestic three-run home run in the bottom of the third, 45,000 of us at the game – and millions at home – went berserk.
I’ve been to plenty of games and seen many home runs at the Rogers Centre, even during the playoffs, but I’ve never heard that building get so loud.
I’ve also never hugged complete strangers before, but it was that type of moment. Pandemonium trumped personal boundaries.
Of course, the Dodgers struck back, then the Jays got an insurance run, L.A. again countered, and the Jays entered the top of the ninth inning clinging to a 4-3 lead.
After the first out, for the first time the entire game, the entire season even, I allowed myself to truly believe – we all did – that the Jays were actually going to win this thing.
Then disaster struck. 4-4. But hold on, there was another chance in the bottom of the ninth for the Jays to win it. Nope, missed it by a few inches. Then came another disaster in the top of the 11th: 5-4 for L.A.
Wait, after a lead-off double by (who else?) Vladdy Guerrero Jr. in the bottom of the 11th, we had another shot. But a sacrifice bunt, walk and double-play later, and it was all over. Just like that, our dreams were crushed.
My phone blew up with texts from friends who used one perfect word to describe what we were all feeling: “gutted.”
My wife and I didn’t leave right away. We sat and watched the Dodgers celebrate their win, a broken Vladdy the last man standing in the Jays’ dugout.
With so much going on, we missed our last train home and had to wait some time for an Uber.
On the long ride home, with the city lights fading in the distance behind us and my wife asleep beside me, I was finally able to take a moment to reflect on everything.
As much as I hated the result – I was equal parts heartbroken, enraged and shocked – it dawned on me that this was one of the greatest baseball games I have ever watched.
What’s more, it was perhaps the most enjoyable Blue Jays season I have ever experienced.
The back-to-back World Series titles in 1992 and 1993 were awesome, but I was just a kid, really. The playoff runs of 2015 and 2016 had their moments, but nothing like this.
This season was special.
It was such a joy to share it with my friends, including a few I reconnected with thanks to a mutual love of the Jays. I was proud to share it with my parents, both of whom played ball and instilled in me a love of the sport that has never waned.
It was amazing to see my wife, usually apathetic about most sports, get as excited as I did (she insisted there was “no way” I could miss game seven).
This team also provided many memorable moments with my two daughters.
I hope one day they’ll look back on this season and smile, just as I do when I think about sitting with my dad in the aluminum bleachers at old Exhibition Stadium or at home watching Joe Carter “touch ‘em all” in ‘93.
The 2025 Blue Jays, if only for a few months, united a country when we truly needed it. It was a magical ride.
And game seven? It was a night I will never forget. The Jays. My wife. Connections. Core memories.
Sure, the Jays lost a heartbreaker (they were the better team) and it will sting for a while.
But sometimes you can give 100%, do almost everything right and things still don’t go your way. That’s sports. That’s life. But we have to savour the journey.
I’ll never regret going to the game and losing out on some easy cash. Not for a second.
The type of moments we shared that night are exceedingly rare. Those moments, and the people we share them with, make life worthwhile. They’re really all that matters.
We need to hold those people close and bank those moments whenever we can.
Thank you for the memories, Blue Jays.
