To understand the nation-wide phenomenon of the Toronto Blue Jays, it’s worth examining the demographic of this coast-to-coast love affair and, if possible, its roots.
The Avengers.
They may never forget Monday, October 19, 1981. Blue Monday. The day Canada’s original major-league team, the Montreal Expos, lost the pennant. The ball thrown by the best pitcher in Expos’ history, Steve Rogers, hit beyond Olympic Stadium’s centre-field fence by the appropriately named Rick Monday, the only playoff homer of his career. They called for revenge, by the Blue Jays, against the Dodgers.
The Jilted Lovers.
Shohei Ohtani, a free agent two years ago, dangled his worldly talent for the Blue Jays’ bidders. While most baseball pundits believed he was ticketed for Los Angeles even before his Angels’ contract expired, Torontonians took the bait and fell for the possibility, even likelihood, that Ohtani would leave southern California for Canada. When he didn’t, they were angry at being “dumped” and clearly those wounds haven’t healed.
The Historians.
The Blue Jays went 32 years without a World Series appearance, the kind of slump that brings fans out of the woodwork, even if they’re not fans. Ending a three-decade drought often includes the entitlement: “It’s our time.” That same euphoria would surface in other Series-starved cities, like Seattle (48 years), Pittsburgh (46), Milwaukee (43), Baltimore (42), Oakland and Cincinnati (both 35), and Minnesota (34). Every long-suffering franchise has its historical fans.
The Anti-Americans.
There have always been Canadians who disliked America, and their population exploded under President Trump, even before his tariffs. Having the Blue Jays in the World Series, the anti-Americans salivated at the unlikely possibility of being invited (or not) to the White House. President H. W. Bush invited the Jays in 1992, after he signed NAFTA, quipping: “Our free trade agreement with Canada did not mean that the United States would trade away the world’s championship.”
The Patriots.
For two decades the Blue Jays have been Canada’s team, by default. Being able to wave the Maple Leaf at what is unequivocally an American spectacle is new for a whole generation of Canadians. That the only member of the Blue Jays born in the country (Vladimir Guerrero, Montreal) spent all his formative years in the Dominican Republic is immaterial, just like it is for seven hockey teams and nine football teams in cities with most players from outside Canada. To this crowd, “we” means Jays.
The Bartenders.
This is just practical. Did you see how many watering holes, from Nova Scotia to Iqaluit (pop. 8,000) to British Columbia, made the national news because they’re places sports fans gather to watch — and clearly not to listen — to the games? With an influx of noisy, thirsty and championship-starved fans, it’s a business boom that mushroomed as the national fan club rolled over provincial borders.
The Traditionalists.
Having lost to the designated hitter, the 100-pitch rule for starting pitchers and the “ghost runner’ who magically appears in extra-inning regular-season games, this older cache of fans loathes the thought of being able to buy a championship. There’s no greater example of doing that than the Dodgers, whose disposable income exceeds everything but the national debt, so they cheer for the Blue Jays.
