Okay so like… everyone in Canada basically cried into their Tim Hortons this weekend. Because the Toronto Blue Jays — our sweet, chaotic, lovable national obsession — totally almost did it. After a World Series run that had literally the entire country losing its mind, they came this close to winning it all… and then lost in the most Toronto way ever. Like, tragically iconic.
So picture it: it’s after midnight, Game 7, Rogers Centre is practically vibrating, Vladdy Jr. is on third, everyone’s holding their breath — and then… double play. Boom. Dream over. Dodgers 5, Jays 4. And yes, the heartbreak was cinematic. Think Romeo and Juliet but with more stretchy pants and sunflower seeds.
Honestly, though? This wasn’t just a baseball thing. It was, like, a national moment. George Springer literally said, “I’m so happy for our team, our fans, our city, our country,” after their ALCS win. OUR COUNTRY. Coming from an American dude from Connecticut! Like, stop it, I’m emotional.
And yeah, sure, they lost the World Series, but the Jays gave us something no trophy ever could: that whole “Canada actually feels united about something other than complaining about the weather” vibe. You could literally feel it — from Pouce Coupe, B.C., to Mount Pearl, N.L. People were suddenly experts on Trey Yesavage’s strikeout count, obsessed with Alejandro Kirk’s dad-bod energy, and like, we all know a Vladdy now.
For 29 magical days, the Blue Jays turned our collective anxiety about everything — inflation, American politics, the price of butter — into screaming about baseball. They were scrappy, young, and so easy to love. Like, if the Dodgers were the rich L.A. kids with Teslas, the Jays were the Canadians pulling up in a rusty Subaru blasting The Tragically Hip.
And yes, Toronto, this was a beautiful loss. A masterpiece of heartbreak. The kind of tragedy that cities write poems about. I mean, when was the last time this place felt like this? The 2010 Olympics maybe? Except instead of Sidney Crosby’s golden goal, we got Vladdy’s heartbreak face. Iconic in its own sad little way.
There was everything — ridiculous catches, wild bench drama, and that feeling that maybe, just maybe, this time the Toronto curse was finally lifting. It wasn’t. But like, that’s the thing about being a Toronto fan: we romanticize losing better than anyone. “Choking artistically” is practically a civic identity.
And don’t even pretend this didn’t mean something bigger. Because when George Springer said our country, it hit. The Jays — a team full of Americans, Dominicans, Venezuelans — somehow made Canada feel like one big, messy family again. They reminded us that you don’t need a shiny trophy to feel like winners. You just need to believe, scream at your TV, and maybe ugly cry when it’s over.
So yeah, the Jays didn’t get the rings. But they got something way more sparkly: our collective, slightly delusional love.
And maybe, just maybe, next year we’ll get to do it all over again — preferably with less heartbreak and more champagne.
Until then, congrats, Toronto. You lost beautifully.
XOXO,
Valley Girl News
Reporting live from a puddle of my own baseball tears
