<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8502100822
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
851009
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Wednesday, October 09, 1985
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1D
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>
Photo
</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1985, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
HEY, WHAT A GREAT PLACE! BASEBALL IN THE ARCTIC
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
TORONTO -- Well, I'll tell you. I heard a lot before this series started.
"It's in Canada, for cripes sake. It'll snow on you. How can you have the
national pastime being decided north of the border?"

  And for Game 1, it sure was cold. And since  two countries' worth of
journalists are up here, they didn't have room in the normal press box for all
of them, so they constructed the auxiliary press  box -- one sports writer
calls it the "Live Aid" section -- which looks like an erector set stuck out
in the left field corner and is, of course, completely open, so that your
fingers go numb in the  later innings.

  And yes, they sing two national anthems up here, and most people only know
the words to one and it isn't ours.
  And yes, they're drinking Molsons. And the money they use to pay  for it
has funny colors and has pictures of Queen Elizabeth on it.
  And I'll tell you something.
  It's terrific.
  From the  moment the two teams ran on the field, suddenly there was a bit
of  a different feel to a baseball game. People were waving Canadian flags.
They were swaying back and forth in the stands to the strains of "O Canada."
It felt more like the Winter Olympics, or at least  the Commonwealth Games.
  Championship baseball had gone international. For real.

A real rocking place 
  And once the game got under  way, Canada wasted no time in cementing
itself. Toronto womped  its rivals from Middle America early, nearly batting
around in both  the second and third innings. The Blue Jays singled and
doubled them to death, and all the predictions about how Toronto can't hit
left-handed pitching went out the window, or down the ski slope, as the case
may be up here.
  After four innings the Blue Jays had nine hits and six runs, and had chased
starting pitcher  Charlie  Leibrandt out of the game earlier than any other
team had done  all year long.
  The place rocked.
  And when Dave Stieb struck out George Brett looking at an off-speed pitch
in the sixth inning  -- Brett had the only two KC  hits at that point -- the
place roared.
  And when the seventh-inning stretch came around, the whole place burst into
the now-famous exercise song -- "OK BLUE JAYS, LETS  . . . PLAY . . . BALL" --
which is so innocent it's cute, even though I keep imagining the Mickey Mouse
Club doing the video.
  And as if that weren't enough, late in the game some wily fan must have
spotted one George (Sparky)  Anderson sitting in the front row of our Live Aid
section here, and the left field stands broke out into a cheer of "SPAR-KY!
SPAR-KY! SPAR-KY!"
  How can you not like  that?
  And then, of course, there was the outcome, 6-1, Blue Jays. Pressure? What
pressure? Youth? What youth?
  Stieb was masterful. He allowed only three hits in eight innings. "You have
to get  to him early," Brett had said, "or it's over."
  It was over. Tom Henke came in to finish and when he got Frank White to
fly to center for the last out, the thunder from the crowd was incredible.
Remember that most of the Blue Jays' runs came from the bottom half of the
batting order.  If the top half gets in gear today, KC could be in deep, uh,
snow.

Babe Ruth hit here 
  Now maybe you're  a staunch traditionalist. Maybe the idea of Toronto's
making the World Series doesn't sit right with you, even though the Blue Jays
have  been in the league for nine seasons.
  But hey, Babe Ruth  hit his first professional home run in this city. I
figure if it's good enough for Babe and Sparky, how rotten can it be?
  In fact, I figure this two-country business is pretty good for the game,
especially in a season when so many ugly things have grabbed  the  headlines.
  Besides, it's not every  day you watch someone yell for a hot dog through a
ski mask.
  And I like seeing an eggnog  manufacturer get the big sign next to the
scoreboard. Betcha don't see that in the Astrodome.
  All told, good for the sport. And you sure won't hear anyone complaining
around here after Tuesday night's  game.
  And I would like to write more,  but my  fingers are frozen together.
Besides, I think I see the Molson guy.
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<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
COLUMN
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
