For the weeks that spanned the Toronto Blue Jays’ miraculous postseason run, it felt like all of Canada was holding its breath. The team did the impossible: It had us believing, with one comeback after another, each more cinematic than the last.

Streets were painted in blue, sports bars overflowed, and even those who once could not tell you the difference between a cutter and a slider were suddenly glued to their TVs. Then came Game 7, and the heartbreak that followed: a loss that felt like a national gut punch, as the Jays fell to the Los Angeles Dodgers, who repeated as World Series champs.

But the morning after, something beautiful happened. On Instagram, a watercolour illustration by Halifax artist Matt Smith began circulating widely. It’s a tender drawing of a group of diverse Blue Jays fans sitting on a bench together as a (real!) Blue Jay flies above them while surrounded by faint morning light. In just a matter of hours, it accumulated over 40,000 likes — and counting — with just about every fan, including this writer, having tearfully reshared it by noon.

It became the unofficial image of our collective grief and gratitude, shared tens of thousands of times across the country.

Artist behind viral Blue Jays image: ‘There was something really special about this team’

“I’m not an avid sports watcher anymore,” Smith admits. “I’ve got four little kids and run a few different businesses, so my time is spread pretty thin these days. But during that Yankees series, I could tell there was something really special about this team. It almost felt like the entire playoff run had some weird divine intervention behind it.”

For Smith, what drew him in wasn’t just the baseball, but the community behind it, which felt bigger and more inclusive than ever. He shares, “It didn’t matter where I was — standing at the bus stop, in the grocery store, walking my dog — everyone was talking about baseball. The world has felt so divided for so long now, but this was this magical little pocket of time where nobody talked about any of it. [We pulled] our heads out of the thunderstorm for a minute and just smiled together. I’ve genuinely felt lighter, happier and less depressed.”

The world has felt so divided for so long now, but this was this magical little pocket of time where nobody talked about any of it.

His illustration, he says, was born out of that very sentiment.

“I think the Blue Jays losing was more important than them winning,” he reflects. “Because if we had won, that’s all we would’ve focused on. But the loss forced us to look for the silver lining. What they did this past month was so much more than baseball; they unified a nation at a time when we needed it more than ever.”

The Blue Jays became Canada’s team

That unity could be felt far beyond Toronto. From coast to coast, fans gathered in living rooms, group chats and packed bars, reaching for one another with the kind of warmth and joy that’s rare these days. As the only Canadian team in Major League Baseball, the Blue Jays became Canada’s team, and a reason to text that old friend, call your dad, or lean over the fence and talk to your neighbour.

It mirrored what the players themselves have spoken about all season and in those teary postgame interviews — brotherhood, joy, love. When All-Star slugger Vladimir Guerrero, Jr., who has been with the team since 2015, signed a 14-year, $500 million contract extension with the Blue Jays in April, he said the reason he signed was because of the fans.

“How they treat us,” he explained. “How they respect my family and they always come here to give you support. [And] I’ve never seen this organization as an organization. I see it as a family. It’s been 10, 11 years of me being here. This is family for me. The team, the city, the fans, this is family. I wasn’t looking to go elsewhere and meet new people. … I’m going to be a Blue Jay forever.”

Many sports fans and commentators believe the team’s unique bond is part of what makes them such strong players and helped take them to the end (rather than just heaps of cash, unlike other teams). It’s rare to see such a close team with such little animosity if any. Throughout the postseason, social media went wild with clips of Davis Schneider talking about Addison Barger sleeping on his pull-out instead of at a hotel, or of Guerrero, Jr. and Bo Bichette playing together since they were baby-faced teens, or of any number of them exchanging secret handshakes and cheering each other on.

Ernie Clement, the most earnest player of them all and who was regularly seen wearing his fellow Jays’ jerseys during practice, often noted how “the power of friendship” fueled them. At one press conference, he said, “This is the most fun I’ve ever had playing baseball. This is the tightest group I’ve ever been a part of. … You get to play with 30 of your best friends. I don’t think that happens every year. In a way, you don’t want it to end.”

‘This team of misfits felt like a mirror of our country’

In their camaraderie, fans saw themselves reflected.

“This team of misfits felt like a mirror of our country,” Smith says. “We’re all so different, yet when we come together, it’s something special. In a time when that’s felt nearly impossible, that’s saying something. Watching those grown men with tears in their eyes after the game, all saying how much they were going to miss each other and how fun it’s been, that showed a brave vulnerability that hit home. The grind, the heart, the moments in between the wins and losses, that’s where the magic happens.”

And isn’t that the whole point of sports? To be a team, whether you’re on the field or in the stands? The truth is, there is crying in baseball, because it stands for so much for so many of us. In this year of global turmoil, for the team and the fans, it’s meant a whole lot. It’s been a reason to keep going, to have something fun to look forward to, with our friends and family around us.

It’s a necessary reminder that the end of something isn’t a loss; the journey is the point. And for Blue Jays fans and players alike, it’s been a massive success.

Here’s to next year, when — inshallah — we’ll do it all again. I’ll be sure to save you a seat.