When did I start becoming a Blue Jays fan, much less a baseball one? Not out of diapers, as most of you would believe. At the time I was a kid who religously followed The Transformers/G.I. Joe hour-long animated series, the WWF and subscribed to Marvel Comics; sports was as foreign to me as my then newly-emigrated Filipino grandmother I called Lola. I didn’t even know what baseball was until 1987 – at the time, the year of the home run. Gopher balls were flying out fast & furious at a pace unprecendented; some rookie on the A’s named Mark McGwire was knocking on Roger Maris’ 1961 record of 61 home runs. Twins pitcher Bert Blyleven would set a record for most homers allowed in a single season by a starting pitcher. And it was upon this backdrop that I remember watching my first Blue Jays game – not in person, but on tv – and George Bell became the player whom I would designate my favourite Blue Jay at that time. As it stands, he’s still up there on that list. And I’ll tell you why; Bell made me discover baseball.

My older brother, who had signed up for baseball, was already a big Blue Jays fan. He had the hats, the pennants, he collected all sorts of material Blue Jays related. He even had the “7-disc called “The Ballad of Tom ‘The Terminator’ Henke” which was a bouncy, country-type number about the lights-out closer of the Toronto bullpen. But it never caught onto me yet, despite how up-and-coming the team was; I was still dreaming up hypotheticals between battles of certain Autobots and Decepticons. I was part of a t-ball team, but I wasn’t really into it.

My Blue Jays discovery happened by accident; they were playing on a mid-August night, against the A’s in Oakland. Seeing as the game was taking place on the West Coast, both my older brother and father were watching the game on The Sports Network (Canada’s only answer to ESPN at the time). Since they got to stay up late to watch the game, I figured I should get in on this night-owl action.

I don’t remember much of the game that took place that night. I don’t even remember who was the starting pitcher for either team. What I did see that night flipped a switch inside of me that would stay turned on during those formative years and remain with me to the present day. All I remember is that the Blue Jays, in their 80′s powder finery, were down 1-0 late in the game against the kelly green, yellow and white of the Athletics. Up strode slugger Bell, in the midst of a season that was MVP-worthy (and it would be, when all was said and done that year). He was facing A’s starter-turned-closer Dennis Eckersley. I didn’t know Eck at the time; I just noticed he threw sidearm and was throwing pellets to the plate. I didn’t know about the dramatics of baseball, and Bell’s eighth-inning at-bat would mark his last chance to come through for the team. Bell, with that crouch and stride, whipped bat through ball and put it over the left field wall. As the TSN caption read at the bottom of the screen whilst Bell trotted around the bases, it was his 37th home run. Before Alomar’s arcing fly in ’92, there was Bell’s bolt in ’87 – both off Eck, and both taking place in Oakland.

At that time, Bell’s late-inning drama set the stage for a nervous ninth inning to watch; “Terminator” Tom Henke would try to close out the game for the Blue Jays. I remember lying in front of that TV, hoping that slim lead would hold against one certain batter: A’s rookie first baseman Mark McGwire. I remember Henke getting two strikes on McGwire, then raring back with that leg kick to blow another high fastball past Big Mac to quell that threat and cap a 2-1 Blue Jays win.

That game was a rush. I knew from that moment, at about 1 a.m. in the morning, that I was a baseball fan. It was also the latest I had ever stayed up, and probably one of the first times that I remember sharing such a happy moment with my brother and father. There would be other future moments that centered around baseball (and not) with my family, but nothing beats that first time. I know it didn’t for me. In my subsequent participation in t-ball and baseball leagues I modeled my batting stance after Bell, but I never matched his hitting prowess or power. No matter, as to this day, if I’m ever in a batter’s box, I’ll always imagine I’m Bell facing Eck on that mid-August night.