#bat flip

I’d never seen my team make the playoffs. Finally, here we were, in the last game of the ALDS. For Game 1 and 2, I'd been really anxious. Game 3, I met with some sort of weird zen calmness. I just *knew* they had Game 4.  Game 5 had my head in a whirlwind ALL DAY. I had class and couldn't focus. But I kept seeing signs…

I’d never seen a winner-take-all game before. I would have obviously been sad if they lost Game 3 or 4 (after dropping the first two at home) but this?? They were SO CLOSE.

I wore my ‘Running through the 6ix with my Stro’ shirt that day. Because 1) He was starting and 2) it was lucky.

I watched with two of my roommates, and one of their sisters, who was in town visiting. I can still picture exactly how we were all sitting in the living room. I started on the end of the couch nearest the TV, but at some point moved to the floor. (I always sit on the floor. I don’t know why.)

I remember tearing up at the pregame montages. I remember Chris Colabello in a pregame interview making me cry. Also watching the players sing O Canada and my heart melting. Cliff Pennington got lost when they reached the French part.

The Rangers scored first on a fielder’s choice, and then scored again in the 3rd with a Shin-Soo Choo solo home run. It was nice how in 2015, a 2-run deficit felt like nothing. It was the complete opposite of this year. Bautista plated the first Jays run with a double in the bottom of the 3rd.

In the 4th, Pillar made a great diving catch and we thought that would be the highlight of the game. It’s crazy that it’s barely even a footnote now. 

I don’t know how it happened, but my TV was delayed for Edwin Encarnacion’s home run in the 6th, and Twitter spoiled it - I vowed to watch the rest of the game a few tweets behind. 

Then we reached the 7th. The Odor thing was so... weird. The rest of the game is clear in my memory but seeing the ball bounce toward third, and him come running home - that part felt like a slow-motion nightmare. Of course it had to be Odor. He’d been a total pain for the rest of the series. 

At first, I thought “Obviously this is a joke, right? The ump signalled dead ball, you idiot, what are you doing?”

Twitter was in chaos. Some people thought the run counted, some thought it didn’t - but nobody seemed to know why. The review dragged FOREVER. I was yelling at everything: the fans who were throwing stuff, Odor, Bannister, the umps. Just “NO NO NO FUCK NO”. Tulo was apparently right there with me. 

There was also a sense of despair. After how far they had come, battling back from down 2 in the best-of-3 series, they couldn’t go out like this. Not like this.

Then the review finally ended and they called him safe. I... handled it well.  

At this point, I was also concerned for everyone’s safety. Bottles and cans were flying. People were chanting “bullshit, bullshit” so loud you could hear it on TV. I was afraid there was going to be a riot and players, umps, fans - everyone - would be in danger. I didn’t want this one moment of sports BS to turn Toronto ugly. 

Choo struck out quietly, and the inning ended. 

In the bottom half, with the first two errors, I remember thinking “there’s just no way”. This wasn’t real. I was laughing (almost hysterically), confused, but grateful. 

Pompey pinch-ran for Martin with two on and no outs. Him being safe at third after yet ANOTHER error is also a clear memory.  I was so sure they could pull this off somehow, but scared they wouldn’t. 

The forceout of Pompey at home was messy, because it had to be reviewed, then Donaldson almost-but-not popping out was messy too, as Revere ended up being forced out at second but OMG PILLAR SCORED

Harold Reynolds said “Are we tied? My goodness!” One of us (I don’t remember who) said “Come on Jose, do something”

The 1-1 from Dyson. Jose connected. And immediately after he did so, is my most vivid memory from that day. For a split second, the briefest of moments, my living room was silent as we all inhaled. Did he just do that?? Then came the exhale - and with it, sheer pandemonium. 

All four of us were screaming, with elation, even louder than I had been in anger just half an hour earlier. My house was shaking. The SkyDome was shaking. I think I collapsed on the ground at some point. At the foot of the TV, crying tears of joy, but more importantly - relief. 

I don’t remember Jose rounding the bases. I do remember Goins hollering skyward, bouncing the rest of the way to home plate. 

I remember players pouring out of the dugout like it was a walkoff. Who cared that there were two innings left? This game was decided. 

But things in betwen are blurry - probably because I’d been jumping up and down.  I didn’t see the bat flip. But it happened. 

Actually, the next thing I remember seeing clearly was this - Russell Martin thanking the baseball gods. 

It’s weird to think the inning continued after that. Two more guys reached base before Tulo popped out foul for the third out.  Then I thought it would be safe to go to the bathroom - I was wrong. I come back and the benches have cleared yet again. Nothing else comes of it, but Dyson really just seemed like he wanted to pick fights. First with Edwin, then with Tulo.

Over the rest of the game, I don’t remember much else other than Osuna getting the save, sealing the deal with a strikeout, and running to embrace Dioner Navarro. 

Then came all the celebrations - on-field and off - that we relived over and over. Those were great. Dickey, hugging fans, was my favourite.

That night, I realized this truth: Sometimes baseball is frustrating, agonizing and anxiety-provoking. Then again, sometimes it's perfect.

For Jose Bautista, who had toiled here so long, to have that moment is nothing short of karmic fulfilment. For it to happen after such a rage-inducing mess made it just that much more rewarding.

There’s so much more I didn’t even touch on. Non-roster players got ejected. Reynolds & Co. were silenced for almost a full minute. My ‘Sassy Russell’ meme was born. 

The cameras shook as they tried to show Cole Hamels in the dugout.  Donaldson made this face:

Navarro wore a police hat.  People sang “Jose” chants down my street at 2 o’clock in the morning. 

I could talk about that game every day for the rest of my life and still forget some small, amazing detail. 

But isn’t that what we love about baseball? So many tiny things have to go right for it to end well. That’s how we earn the celebrations. By waiting. 

We waited 22 years to have a season and a moment like that. And that season was pretty easy. They had two 11-game win streaks, and a decent division lead.

The trades all worked out, everything just clicked. We could celebrate again. Then going down 0-2 in the series delayed more celebrating. They won two straight, but the Odor bullshit delayed MORE celebrating. Then Bautista fixed everything, and we celebrated. 

2016 was less easy. They had to fight for that wildcard until the very last game. Maybe that’s why we earned TWO big celebrations.