Dear Toronto Blue Jays,

You did it. You reminded us what it feels like to fall in love. Not just with a team or a sport, but with something much bigger: With the idea that hope can be shared, that joy can ripple from ballparks to basements, that a country as vast and varied as ours can come together under one blue sky.

From coast to coast, we watched you alone on our phones or huddled together in crowded bars, mesmerized and buzzing with excitement. 

More than 18.5 million of us tuned in to Game Seven of the World Series, hearts thumping in unison. Even in Quebec, where nostalgia still lingers for the lost Montreal Expos, cheers echoed throughout the province for you. This was unity. This was pride. This was Canada—connected and reminded that the power of sport allows us to transcend different borders, languages, cultures, demographics, and leagues.

Like the Toronto Raptors in 2019 and Team Canada in last spring’s Four Nations Cup, you gave Canadians more than mere wins—you gave us a feeling of thrills, chills, shrills, and most of all, unrelenting hope.

We wore your logo like a badge of belonging—not just Torontonians, but Canadians from every province and territory. We jumped on the bandwagon willingly, joyfully, because how could we not? You played with heart. You played for each other. You played for us.

And oh, what a cast of characters. From Vladdy, to Mad Max, to Bo, to the architect of the Springer Dinger, each of you became a household name. You were a team stitched together by belief, not bravado. In a game where payroll often decides the story, you showed that the most valuable currency is connection. With players from 22 to 41 years old, your roster was filled with personalities, confidence, and selflessness—something for just about every fan to relate to.

There was Trey Yesavage, the rookie earning $57,000 CAD a year, striking out Shohei Ohtani, baseball’s dual-position phenom, who makes a whopping 824 times more. Then Alejandro Kirk, a 5-foot-8 catcher who signed with you for just $7,500 CAD in 2016, yet has grown to be one of the most feared hitters and defensive masterminds in baseball. Then Chris Bassitt, from a small town in northern Ohio where kids are not expected to make it to the majors. There he was, calm and unshakable, on the biggest stage of all. You are not just athletes. You are reminders that greatness often comes from the most unexpected places.

Maybe that is why we loved you so much. You were the underdogs, playing with joy, humility, and friendship. Positive in every moment, emotional when it mattered, but always measured. 

Davis Schneider said it best.

 “I loved coming to the park every day and sharing this stupid kids game with the people I get to call my best friends. Such a selfless group of ragtag dudes who just love playing baseball with each other at the highest level [….] We went to work each day and gave it our all.” 

We saw that. We felt it. Every stolen base, every grin in the dugout, every home run that sent a nation screaming into the night, was never just about the score.

Even as the final out of Game Seven was recorded and the Toronto World Series dream vanished, it was hard to be truly upset. We were proud—supremely, achingly proud. 

You reminded us the game is about more than who wins or loses. You gave us hope: The kind that glows quietly in the dark, whispering that something good, something beautiful, might still be coming.

“In a time when we all needed it, our Blue Jays inspired us, lifted us, and united us—all through the game we love,” Blue Jays President and CEO Mark Shapiro wrote in a post-Series letter. “Lifelong fans were rewarded, and millions of new ones were born.” 

And he’s right, because this wasn’t just your story. It was ours too.

So thank you, Blue Jays. For bridging regions and generations. For reminding us that, in a time of division and despair, one unexpected, heart-bursting, country-unifying championship run can make us believe again.

We are often told there is no such thing as a moral victory, but not all losses are created equal. And, for that, we are supremely grateful.

With love,

Canada