The Globe and Mail’s sports columnist Cathal Kelly first thought that the Blue Jays wouldn’t be good in 2025, then later thought they’d pull out a World Series win against the Los Angeles Dodgers.Frank Gunn/The Canadian Press
In the late fifties, an American mathematician named Ed Thorp invented card counting on a lark. He published the results as a scholarly paper, then adapted them into a best-selling book.
Thorp’s system promised blackjack players a three per cent advantage over the house. Fearing a flood of fixers, Las Vegas changed its rules. Thorp announced that his system still provided a one per cent advantage. So Vegas banned card counters instead.
I avoid making predictions, but when I do, I think of Thorp. I’m gunning at getting it right just a smidge more often than I get it completely wrong. One of these years, fingers crossed, I’ll get there.
Every morning, I open my inbox and am reminded of my many faults of fact, opinion and style, some of them years old. We have one of them framed in the bathroom. It’s from a guy named Ed. The subject line is: “WHO CARES.” The entire text of the body is: “AGAIN, WHO CARES”
I don’t know for sure which column Ed’s talking about. All of them, maybe.
Cathal Kelly: Congrats on the loss, Toronto. It was a masterpiece
So what did I get wrong this year?
I thought the Toronto Blue Jays would blow it. Not blow it like a balloon, but blow it like the Dresden fire bombing.
They’d been run by the same over-promise/under-deliver management crew for a decade. They’d failed to recruit any top-tier, free-agent talent. They were a mess coming out of spring training.
I figured Vladimir Guerrero Jr. would have a great year, the rest of the team would fold and then Guerrero would ‘Vaya con dios’ his way to Boston or New York. I wrote this gleefully and often.
Instead, the Jays met Guerrero’s number, and then every scrub on their roster turned into Mickey Mantle. I mean, how many find their ace at the end of September?
Vladimir Guerrero Jr. and the Toronto Blue Jays were able to work out a new contract, and the team’s franchise player led them to Game 7 of the World Series, captivating Canadians along the way.Gregory Shamus/Getty Images
That said, I was also convinced that after coming back on Seattle, they would shock the Dodgers. So, 0-for-2.
I thought the Winnipeg Jets would win the Stanley Cup. Don’t ask me why. It was just a feeling. I was taken by the bathetic possibilities of the story. Small town, big dreams, bigger surprise – something like that.
I wrote something to that effect, but couldn’t bring myself to say it outright (pure cowardice). The Jets had an amazing regular season and then caved in like a sinkhole in the second round.
I had a sneaking suspicion the Leafs could win it as well. Not would do it, mind you. But seem to be capable of doing so, however briefly.
Cathal Kelly: After a Game 3 OT loss, it’s not the best time to be a Toronto Maple Leafs fan
Despite what he was saying in public, Mitch Marner was already halfway out the door. Their time was ending. It seemed perversely fitting that the Leafs would pull a Beatles – do one last big show and then fold the band. Instead, they did the obvious thing and no-showed again.
I also thought the Leafs would improve after removing Marner – grow calmer and steadier, if not more talented – but that hasn’t happened either.
Wrong about everything, but still delusionally positive about future outcomes. I think I’m ready to apply for Toronto Maple Leafs’ general manager.
Connor McDavid played it cool when it came to signing a contract extension with the Edmonton Oilers. His two-year deal keeps the pressure on the organization to produce a roster that can win them a Stanley Cup.Sergei Belski/Reuters
I thought that Connor McDavid wouldn’t re-sign with the Edmonton Oilers – wrong again. But I would argue semi-wrong.
When a superstar signs a cut-rate, two-year deal, that isn’t ‘signing’ in the modern sense. That’s agreeing to an extended test drive. You’re taking the car home to see if you still like it in a week. If McDavid ends up spending his whole career in Edmonton, he will have the distinction of being the first superstar to do so without having ever seemed to settle.
I didn’t think the Travis Kelce-Taylor Swift thing would work. I realize you can’t know anyone else’s heart. But I have spent a couple of hours listening to Kelce’s podcast.
I guess I could put up with that level of tortuous, guffawing banter during the dating phase, but accepting it for a lifetime would put me into a rubber room. Maybe Swift doesn’t hear very well. Many professional musicians have that issue.
I thought that people would continue to get angrier about the corrosive effects of gambling on sports. I thought the Shohei Ohtani story – a megawatt international star claiming he had no idea his pal had siphoned off nearly US$17-million – would be the tipping point. Does he not have an accountant? Who’s filing his taxes? But no, everybody bought it.
Instead, sports has done what it does with unpleasant stories – turned them into content. Like PEDs and CTE, gambling has become another thing for fans to take sides on, which in turn deepens their connection to sport. Call it the fandom of fandom, which is stickier than being a fan of any particular team.
Cathal Kelly: Legalized gambling’s algorithms unveil the dark side of pro sports
If you want to explore the success of openly deceitful leaders of all types, think about the fact that people are now being told that sports are fixed, and yet they not only continue to watch, but also wager money on the outcomes. Unwilling to hear what’s true, we demand to be lied to.
I was wrong about my fantasy Premier League team on a steady, weekly basis. As soon as I pick up a guy, boom, he gets rickets, and the guy I gave up turns into Eusebio.
Currently, I’m getting trounced in the standings by two Globe editors, neither of whom has rubbed it in. Yet.
I was wrong in thinking I could find a hotel room for under 500 bucks a night in Manhattan in October. The 500-buck hotel room is the new 200-buck hotel room, which means the Fairfield Inn is the new Four Seasons.
I packed wrong for every single road trip I went on. Summer sweaters in London where it boiled, wrong shoes in Montreal, ditto Florida.
All that said, je ne regrette rien. For those who’ve followed along this year, a sincere thank you. I look forward to your corrections of my corrections.