Tagged: Toronto
TP21: Cream and Sugar
When you have a detailed itinerary, highlighted and marked with various to-do lists and a meeting midweek to hash out the events, you can expect little to no sleep and a three-day adrenaline rush. This past weekend, that was the life we lived in the land of professional baseball in Toronto. When I began in April, I never thought I’d be picking Dave Stieb, (the only pitcher in Blue Jays history to throw a no-hitter) and his nineteen year old daughter up from the airport after a late Thursday night flight from Reno. Nor did I ever imagine that I’d have a memo in my blackberry marked “Stieb’s coffee order,” noting the way he and Pat Hentgen, took their coffee for an early morning media visit the following day. Spending bursts of time shuffling five Alumni players around the stadium and the city, made me think of he glory they shared and lived before I was born. I know about it, thanks to old footage or reading about it, but it was never the same as hearing about it, as they recalled moments around me that weekend. They proved their young selves during their prime, made something of the organization in it’s initial years and for Stieb, earned himself a spot on the – now Rogers
FRIDAY – 7:30am
Ward, Hentgen and Stieb were catching up as Jordan and I drove them to an early media appearance. They spoke of their children and how teenage girls are an absolute handful and how they went from worrying about ERAs and contracts to their teenage daughters with boobs (and boys) and teenage temper tantrums. They talked about everything except baseball: their homes, the guys who didn’t make it to a normal life after their baseball careers, etc. Three guys in the late forty’s early fifty’s; American’s who made names for themselves in a Canadian city. They spoke about their beliefs about politicians and corruptions in areas of the United Sates. It was old friends, co-workers catching up.
FRIDAY – Noon
At a visit to the Sunnybrook Veterans Centre with Hentgen, Barfield, and Stieb, the veterans had a chance to ask the alumni any questions in an informal setting. One gentleman asked about the 1993 World Series and how it felt to be there when the final home run was hit.
I walked onto the field from the left field wall with four of the five alumni players. The current team was tossing baseballs around in the outfield. It was a beautiful sunny day – we discovered – after taking hidden elevators from the hotel that only the players knew about so we didn’t have the go outside. A moment. I had one. The division between team and media. I was with the team this season, and in that particular moment. The media relies on such greatness, on the moments these players can recall on a whim. Stories are written daily by the people in this city, who are quick to make judgement and share their opinions and shed negative light on something that isn’t perfect for six months and into the post-season. The reality is, without a team, those people would have nothing to report on, nothing to write about, and no purpose in their sports journalism careers. I appreciated those players more than I ever had at that moment. They are the reason sports journalism exists. Their dreams and passions create dreams and passions for writers who gave up on their hopes of playing or had passions for the written word. That moment of appreciation felt rare, but I was thankful for it.
Watching the afternoon game, the topic of pitching in the day’s game came up amongst the three alumni pitchers. “If they through me out there right now,” Ward said, “I’d be throwing 47 miles an hour.”
SATURDAY – 2:30pm
It was like constant locker room talk from five guys who have known each other for over twenty years. It was as though they hadn’t missed a beat, chatting about the good days and the new days and having non stop fun together. “That’s what its like everytime we”re together,” Ward told me. They looked on at the young players together each game, commenting on their form and reminding each other of their glory days and time and time again when so-and-so couldn’t strike whats-his-name out. Ever. Not once. But everyone else on the team could and it bothered him beyond no repair. I don’t think they’ll ever let him live that down.
SATURDAY – 3:30pm
Sitting next to five of the most historical Blue Bays hosting an event for the Fan Club. I introduced them all and made mention of their achievements in Toronto before opening the floor for a Q & A session. The way they spoke and recalled their moments, shed light on the days when baseball was so much more than just a game for young players. It was a life style a career, and something they put every thing into…together.
I asked them what it was like to transition into their lives once their major league careers ended and all five of them answered to similar extents: they knew it was time and they enjoyed the moments they had. Now, obviously Hentgen and Stieb did make brief returns to the Blue Jays years after their retirement but after that they chose to start their lives and move on, enjoying the memories they had and twenty years of baseball which they endured.
Watching the compilation of his moments on the video board, the roof open, the CN Tower in the corner of my eye. Five greats; five reasons to love the blue jays even more. Even though so much time has passed since such feats, the memories they had gave me chills as they replayed history on the video board. The crowd cheered as they were on their feet, proud to be fans of such a great ball player. He had tears in his eyes as he hugged Cito, accepting his award marking the 20th Anniversary of the only No-Hitter in Blue Jays history. The crowd remained on their feet. Stieb spoke about the almost no-hitters and his voice shook, trying to find the words through the emotion of seeing his moment – a moment in club history – replayed for him in such a removed setting. The no-hitter was his favourite memory with the club. Four current starting pitchers presented him with a painting, hugged him and offering congratulations. He did something that all of them hope to do in their career.
After the presentation, Stieb prepared to throw out the first pitch. He took to the mound, one last time for the Blue Jays in his powder blues. Number 37: a great in Toronto history.
Talking stats with Duane Ward while driving to the airport to catch his flight back to Colorado. He said to Chris and I, ” 70 to 80 percent of the time the team that wins scored more runs in one inning than the other team did the whole game. Look it up.”