FINALLY: Corktown correspondent Dennis Kucherawy remembers the last time the Toronto Blue Jays saw playoff success — 22 years ago. Photo by Keith Allison
By Dennis Kucherawy, Corktown.ca
With the Blue Jays one win away from capturing the American League Division Series and taking another step toward the World Series, I haven’t been this excited in 22 years.
With postseason memories playing on TV during each game in the current series, especially Joe Carter’s game winning home run in 1993 against the Phillies, I am reminded of how my nephew David of Welland, Ontario actually helped the Jays take the 1993 trophy with his unique mojo and some early Hallowe’en magic. No one except our family has known the story until now, but it feels timely — especially since Blue Jays President Paul Beeston, who figures into the story, is retiring after this season.
Let’s call it the Corktown Miracle on Sumach Street.
It began when we invited my wife’s sister, Doris, niece Jayme, who was 11, and nephew David, 8, to come and watch Game Six in our Corktown living room on Sumach Street. Confident that the Jays would clinch it, we planned to go and party with the crowds on Yonge Street after the victory. It was Oct. 23, 1993, eight days before Hallowe’en.
Game Six was so tense. A victory seemed unlikely with the Philadelphia Phillies clinging to a one run lead—6 to 5—going into the ninth inning. Phillies closer Mitch Williams came in to pitch the bottom of the 9th.
He walked Ricky Henderson, and then Devon White flied out. “Oh, nooo!” we all screamed. Next, Paul Molitor singled and Henderson scooted to second.
With one man out and two men on, Joe Carter came up to the plate. “Quick, rub my head!” yelled our nephew David as he dashed around to each of us in the living room. “Everybody on my team rubs my head and it’s always good luck!” His buzz cut head would do the trick, he claimed. All we had to do was “slap the bowling ball.”
Laughing and freaking out with tension, we each took our turn, although it really was tempting to slip in a few noogies.
The longest seconds passed. Williams threw four pitches. Then, Carter hammered the fifth over the left field fence unleashing a tsunami of joy. Crowds everywhere, at the stadium and at home, squealed in delight as Henderson, Molitor and the conquering hero Carter peeled out home, jumping for joy.
“Touch ‘em all, Joe!” shouted Tom Cheek, the Blue Jays radio announcer. Final score: Toronto 8, Philadelphia 6.
As fast as we could, the five of us pulled on our coats and headed to Yonge Street. Thousands of people marched, shouting and chanting the lyrics to a popular hip hop song. Only it wasn’t “Whoop, there it is!” It was “Two, there it is!
Yet, there was unfinished business and it took 18 years later to be resolved. You see, Paul Beeston, President of the Toronto Blue Jays, and I have a lot in common. We both were born in Welland and attended Welland High and Vocational School (WHVS). We both attended the University of Western Ontario. I was often asked when meeting someone new in the business or sporting community “Welland? Do you know Paul Beeston?”
I called him in June 2011 after a fire destroyed our alma mater, WHVS, because I wanted a quote from him for a story I was writing. I asked him if we could have a coffee because from then on, whenever I was asked whether I knew Paul Beeston, I could say yes. He is nine years older than me.
We met in his opulent man-cave of an office in what was then known as the SkyDome. What a fantasy! The first thing thing I saw at reception under glass was two World Series trophies.
He greeted me warmly. He lit up a cigar as he sat down. I noticed, hey, it was true: He did not wear socks under his loafers.
We had a lovely, relaxed conversation, reminiscing about our high school, mostly. We spent a great deal of time asking each other if we knew so and so.
I cut off our conversation early out of respect for how busy he was.
However, before I left, I pulled out a thank you card. I asked him to sign it to my nephew David, saying, with a wink and a smile, “Paul, my nephew is the reason the Jays won the 1993 World Series.” He laughed as I explained how we all rubbed David’s noggin for good luck before Joe Carter pounded the ball over the left field fence.
Eagerly, Paul leaned forward and signed, thanking him for his “magical” contribution and adding a sage piece of advice.
“And remember, David, always touch all of the bases.”