The Blue Jays Are Hatched.

Thursday April 7,1977 started out a very sunny, mild and beautiful spring day in the city of Toronto. I vividly remember this because I was starting my first job on that day and I had to miss school. I walked about a half mile from my apartment over to Dufferin Street; I then took the Dufferin bus southbound as far as it went right down to the Exhibition grounds on the shores of Lake Ontario. I walked another half mile or so until I finally arrived at Exhibition Stadium.

I was not at all familiar with this part of the city. I literally walked around the complete stadium before arriving at gate 10 on the south side. There were a lot of teenagers like myself just hanging around when I arrived. There were also a few much older men and it seemed like everyone but me was smoking. I knew nobody and I felt like I was the only one there who was by myself.

A large overweight man named Alfie came to the door. He explained that only people with passes already would be vendors. I did not have a pass and I didn't even know where or how to get a pass, but I was determined to be a vendor on that day.

I inquired as to where I could get a pass.

“You have to go to the Versa Foods office, but I don’t think they will be able to help you because we have enough people already” I was told by the fat man. He told me that the office was over in the north end of the stadium. I went for another stroll, I walked into the office and excused myself. 

“I need a pass to work as a vendor," I said. 

Since I had come all the way down on the bus, taken the day off school and I made the extra effort to get the pass, they made me a pass.

My perseverance had paid off.

Within ten minutes I was handed my own plastic white credit card like pass with my name on it. The pass would be like my very own season ticket and today was the first ever game for the Toronto Blue Jays. I would now be a part of history, but first I took another stroll back over to gate 10. By the time I arrived everyone had disappeared. I walked up the stairs where I was handed an orange smock with a numbered badge. I forget what my number was, but I was ready and eager to sell whatever they wanted me to sell.

On this day opening day, it would be hot dogs. 

They say you never forget your first time, I followed the rays of sunlight flooding the grey concrete walkway from the vendor’s room. It was the brand new green artificial turf that I remember the most. It was so green, it looked like a gigantic green carpet and other than it being green it did not resemble natural grass in any way.

There were Chicago White Sox baseball players just milling about. Some of the players were tossing soft to each other while others were throwing hard. There was a player inside a large batting cage hitting balls slowly pitched to him from a potbellied coach who was standing behind a fence partition. Outfielders standing three hundred feet away would trot over and snag the balls before they hit the new turf. Many of the balls would clear the fence bouncing around in the cheaper bleacher seats soon to become historic mementos for some of the fans that would be arriving an hour later.

I remember the sound of the ball hitting the bat; it was a different sound, a unique sound. My first impression of baseball was it seemed to be a very non-strenuous sport, more like a pastime. Could it ever become Canada’s favorite pastime like it was in America?

Who knows, I guess time would tell.

I went back to the vendor’s room and within the hour I was in the stands selling foil wrapped hot dogs out of my big orange Coleman cooler. I was exchanging money and handing out packets of mustard, relish and ketchup like I had been doing it all my life. Then all of a sudden and without any warning the sky got black and the temperature got much colder. It felt like Armageddon was fast approaching and within minutes it started to fuck'n snow.

Hot dog sales were now very brisk and the tips were plenty. I was trolling all the expensive seats right behind home plate and around the dugouts. There was just so much electric excitement in the air. Vendors were allowed to sell anywhere we wanted, but for that first game I stayed as close to the action as possible selling in the expensive seats.

I had remembered to take my hat off and stand quietly for the American national anthem. I was so excited and I forgot two anthems would be played. In between the anthems I began barking out attention to my overpriced hot dogs.

“Hot dogs! Hot dogs! Who wants a hot dog?” I shouted.

Within seconds Anne Murray began singing Oh Canada.

Oops! 

Error on the vendor right under the announcer’s booth behind home plate. Talk about one of your life's embarrassing moments.

The umpires were introduced and the Blue Jays took to the field. The Blue Jay's PA announcer introduced the players “Ladies and Gentlemen here are your Toronto Blue Jays, at first base… 

...and pitching for your Toronto Blue Jays, number forty-eight Bill Singer."

A Chicago White Sox player walked up to the home plate. 

“Play Ball!” I heard the umpire shout. 

The first historic pitch by Singer was a high fastball for a strike. I bet even if it had been a ball the ump still would have called the first ever pitch a strike. The pitch was right down the middle, a fastball for sure. I headed back to the kitchen for another cooler of hot dogs and another commission ticket for me. The snow eventually stopped and the skies cleared up, but the temperature still remained cold. I worked until the eighth inning and I could not even estimate the hundreds of stairs I climbed on that day.

The Blue Jays won 9-5 and I was dog tired after my first ever day of work.

(Nice pun eh?)

The best thing about being a vendor was you earned money while working in a big league sports atmosphere. Less than a hundred people in Toronto were given the opportunity that first summer. I stuck with my first job well into the second season until I finished high school and started working full-time. For some games the money I earned was next to nothing and I would eat all of my earnings before I even got back home. After other games during the CNE, I blew all my earnings at the Exhibition Midway. I would be trying to double my money betting on the Crown & Anchor wheel before the long bus ride home. 

I never did.

That first game was very memorable and will always be remembered by everyone who was lucky to attend.

I too was at the first ever Blue Jays game and I had witnessed history in the making. It is one of those events that a million people will say they were at. I have no ticket stub or program to prove I was there. Although, I am sure if you listen close enough to the game tape you should be able to hear some clown barking "Who wants a hot dog?" in between the two anthems.

That clown was me.