At the World Series the Blue Jays belonged to Canada – and large parts of the US too | Toronto Blue Jays

The first time the Blue Jays won a World Series, in 1992, the team’s victory parade took place on the same day as a controversial national referendum. That day, a series of potential constitutional changes were in play and Canadians, living through a period of economic stress, regional tensions and growing distrust of political elites, were wondering what kind of country they were living in. The referendum failed and paved the way for another, three years later, in 1995, which almost saw Quebec leave Canada completely. After the victory, Prime Minister Brian Mulroney congratulated the Jays, noting that in addition to being a “historic victory,” the team’s playoff run “united a nation behind you, capturing the imagination of Canadians from coast to coast.” It was something Canada needed.

This time there was no parade. The Jays lost 5-4 to the Los Angeles Dodgers early Sunday in a heartbreaking Game 7, missing their first World Series title in 32 years.

It would be a stretch to suggest that Canada needed the Jays to win in exactly the same way they did in 1992. For one thing, there has since been another World Series victory – the following year, capped by Joe Carter’s historic home run. And it’s only been six years since the Toronto Raptors won the NBA championship – another surprise victory for the Canadian franchise in a sport dominated by the United States. In other words, it wouldn’t have been the first time “Team Canada” had won.

But some things never change. After all, Canada’s national mood is perpetually fragile, and its regional problems and economic trends are inherent. Of course, the country is not on the verge of dividing, as it was in 1992, but there is a strange and strangely strong separatist movement brewing in Alberta, pushing the province into uncharted territory. Inflation is much lower, but other economic indicators are poor. The national unemployment rate is lower today than it was in the early 1990s – 7% today compared to 11% then. But it depends on your age: youth unemployment in Canada is currently around 15%. However, these are familiar and manageable problems. Tensions with the United States are not.

In 1992, Canada had just signed the first NAFTA with the United States and Mexico. At least on a political level, there was a sense of transcontinental camaraderie. After a U.S. Marine unintentionally flew the Canadian flag upside down during a 1992 World Series game in Atlanta, U.S. President George HW Bush quickly issued a formal apology. Blue Jays fans responded with grace, loudly chanting the Star-Spangled Banner during the next game in Toronto. “The Americans still don’t know our situation in some ways, but that doesn’t mean we blame them,” Greg Brown, a Toronto dentist who sang alongside everyone at that game, told the LA Times. “That’s not the kind of people we are.”

That’s why. Last spring, Canadians, united behind the men’s national hockey team at the NHL Four Nations Cup, loudly booed the American anthem at every opportunity. Today, Nafta is dead. Its replacement deal remains in limbo amid disjointed economic policy released seemingly haphazardly by Donald Trump’s White House. On occasion, Trump muses about making Canada a US state – a kind of threat not seen since the 19th century. Canada’s victory at the Four Nations was more than satisfactory; it was cathartic. But months have passed since then, and relations between Canada and the United States have become even tenser and stranger.

Into all of this, the Blue Jays entered the mix, the only other team in Canada with even remotely the same national profile as the hockey team. And although most of the Jays team was made up of Americans, that October playoff series reinforced the same sense of nationalism as that of the Four Nations. And many Americans have joined this movement. Part of it was simply underdog support. The Dodgers, with their $700 million superstar and Hollywood fans, are easy villains. But there was something more. For a certain type of American viewer, the Jays have become the symbol of a different idea of ​​power than the United States has embodied in recent times: something more stable, more powerful, and less self-confident.

In a widely shared excerpt from his podcast, American commentator Scott Galloway admitted it was “strange” to find himself cheering for Toronto against his hometown team, the Dodgers. “Canada has never seemed stronger,” he said. “American strategy seems successful. Fake masculinity. Sclerotic. They dictate trade policy based on ads that antagonize the president. Canada just seems more coherent and fearless. I think it has strengthened Canada’s image.” An online gaming site conducted an unscientific analysis of geolocation data and fan hashtags on X, concluding that support was higher for the Jays than the Dodgers in every state other than California, Nevada and Utah.

All of this, on its face, is about baseball. But it’s also about how sport becomes a metaphor, whether we like it or not. The Jays’ 2025 playoff run was another moment for Canada to express its perception of itself and project it to the world at a time when national identities are in flux everywhere. It was an opportunity to create collective memories that shape and define the personality of a country. Henderson scores. Touch them all, Joe. The golden goal. Connor McDavid for Canada. Blue Jays…well, I almost made it.

Certainly, the loss stings for another reason. For decades, Canadian hockey fans have watched American teams parade the Stanley Cup through American cities, as the country’s most treasured sporting symbol became less and less Canadian. But the Jays were winning in America’s pastime, in America’s stadiums, against the richest club in America. This time the story went the other way. Victory would have felt good. Turning the situation around would have been even better.

But ultimately, it was another story of recognition. The Jays, even in defeat, gave Canada another chance to see itself more clearly and coherently. This vision will fade, as it always does. The other daily issues will come back. The economy. Regionalism. Prices. A single baseball victory was never going to bind the nation together forever. But it was a nice reminder that the connecting threads are still there, still holding.