Ah the 90’s. It’s hard not to get sentimental about that decade. We were on the cusp of computer technology and many things we did were still analog including camping overnight to get concert tickets. It isn’t very often that you get to partake in rituals like this anymore. In our digital dominated lives, there isn’t much that can’t be bought with just a click of a button. Or at least that’s what I thought.
A couple of weeks ago my aunt and I headed east to Toronto to watch a couple of Blue Jays games, and see Niagara Falls. Of course like a traditional east-west divide the weather was a balmy plus 24 here and a mere plus 10-15 there. I don’t think Chicago should be the only city named “The Windy City,” because Toronto was windy, and rainy.
However, whether the weather was better here or there wasn’t really the point of the trip. This was going to be the first time my aunt has ever gone to a Jays game. She has yelled at hundreds of them on the television but has never stepped foot in the stadium. Neither had I for that matter, however I am not sure I actually ever completely watched a Blue Jays game. It’s safe to say she’s the fan, I am a poser.
There was no greater reflection of our differences than when we finished brunch at the Sportsnet Grill, a restaurant connected to Rogers Center. My aunt had struck up a conversation with another super fan he informed her that if she expected to get a Jose’ Bautista and an Edwin Encarnacion bobblehead at tonight’s game she should be standing in line right now!
To be clear, “right now” was 11:00 AM and “tonight’s game” didn’t start until 7:00PM! The informant was one of a small group that had begun their door sitting vigil at 8:00AM that day.
They were rotating each other out in shifts so they could do bathroom breaks, and get food. They had coolers, lawn chairs, and blankets. All the things we did not have. I thought the whole scene was completely nuts.
My aunt on the other hand was seriously considering sticking out the rest of the day in line.
Why? Because. She’s a super fan and as I’ve come to understand the Blue Jay bobbleheads are a collectors item, they only make 15,000 of each and there are no repeat reproductions. “People sell them on Facebook for like $150,” said the super-informant. Not bad resale value but, no way Jose, I was outie.
We came back to Rogers Centre at 3:00PM, a mere four hours before game time and two hours before the doors opened and line ups there were. My aunt saw the lines and looked like someone just stole her dog. For the briefest of moments I felt an inkling of remorse. There was no way we were getting a bobblehead with these line ups.
But, a quick interrogation of some bobblehead vets, already in line, let us know that all hope wasn’t lost. Based on their historical data, and where we were in line we were guaranteed a bobblehead.
Things were looking up. Until these two people showed up behind us with empty Twisted Teas falling out of their lunch bags. “Oh, man”, I thought we are in for a loooong two hours.
As it turned out dad (65) was an accountant, and often went to ball games with his son (22), a new film school graduate who had an extensive bobblehead collection – 120 in total, were really quite nice and only half in the bag.
Our new friends shared their picnic blanket, showed us where the best bathrooms were, and the cheapest hotdogs.
My aunt talked shop about baseball, and hockey. The wind was cold, but our analog experience, waiting in line for something that couldn’t be bought online really set the tone for our first Jays experience. Not only did it make for an absolutely ridiculous story, there were many text messages that said, “Why the heck would you do that,” it also brought us into the Jays community. Not through a digital medium but in real life, with real people. It is with a sense of nostalgia that I am happy to know that there are still some analog experiences to be had, you just have to be crazy enough to do them.
