There are, often, single moments within team sports that define memories of entire series, like Kirk Gibson’s World Series home run in 1988, like Jack Morris’s complete Game 7 masterpiece against the Braves in 1991; like Joe Carter’s series ending blast vs. the Phillies in 1993; like Jose Bautista’s bat-flip moment vs. the Rangers in 2015.
If the Blue Jays come back to beat the Mariners when the ALCS returns to Rogers Centre for Gs 6-7, then the snapshot many fans will fall back on is of Jays’ starter Max Scherzer screaming (out of love) at his manager John Schneider for his audacity in visiting his mound while the future Hall-of-Famer was in the midst of plotting out his necessary sequencing to retire Randy Arozarena in order to escape the fifth inning.
“I was going through it in my head,” Scherzer told reporters after the 8-2 win on Thursday night. “I understood where the game was, knew how I wanted to attack, and then all of a sudden I saw Schneids coming out and I kind of went ‘Woah, woah, woah!’ Like, I’m not coming out of this ball game. I felt too good.”
Certainly, Max said more than what he says, he said. The lip readers at Jomboy social media likely have the saltier version up already, but one suspects that Schneider, who’s now a much better manager than when he yanked Jose Berrios in that embarrassing Game 2 loss to the Twins, knew exactly what he was doing Thursday when he popped out of the dugout and strode purposefully towards the man known as Mad Max. When Schneider changes pitchers, bringing in a reliever he signals long before he reaches the foul line. This time he went out to face the music … and what sweet music it was.
This was sporting theatre at its best. In a previous inning as Max pitched out of trouble, walking the high wire like a Wallenda over Niagara Falls, the Road Warrior had body checked his pitching coach Pete Walker then strode to his spot on the bench to contemplate his next three outs, with not one of his Jays teammates daring to even look at him, talk to him or touch him lest they end up Beyond Thunderdome.
At this stage of his career, at 41-years-old, Scherzer is no longer the pitcher he had been for most of his previous 30 post-season appearances. Even he will easily admit that. In fact, in terms of pure, real-time, stuff and talent, Scherzer would barely be on the Blue Jays starting pitcher podium, trailing at least Kevin Gausman, Shane Bieber, Trey Yesavage and maybe even Chris Bassitt. But in terms of current inspiration and reducing the tension of a game-altering moment to compelling theatre in both dugouts, Scherzer captured that moment with his teammates and opponents.
The best two reactions of that moment were TV cameras catching Ernie Clement as he left the mound head back to his position with a huge grin on his face, even in the direst moments. Then at the end of the inning, there was the Scherzer impression effected by George Springer as he re-enacted the mad moment, going aggressively forward into his pitching coach Pete Walker’s dugout space while laughing outrageously.
On a personal basis, I used to have one personal memory of Scherzer. Now I have two. The first was back in April of 2013 when Max was establishing himself as a star. The Jays were in Detroit for the third series of the season. I had wandered into the Tigers clubhouse, hoping to interview Scherzer for a personal feature on his life. It was three hours before a game that he wasn’t even pitching. He was bouncing around the room talking to teammates in his role as commissioner of the March Madness basketball pool as the Final Four approached. His intensity in that role was intimidating. Then when I finally got his attention, he locked me in a death stare. I’m not sure whether I was more intimidated by his brown or blue eye, but I asked him a couple of innocuous questions then shuffled off to the Jays room and the relative safety of a Bautista glare.
The second memory was more personal and triggered on Thursday by Schneider and Max. In 2015 I was managing a Central Ontario Baseball Association championship game for Oakville vs. Burlington. The A’s had a one run lead with four outs to go. My starting pitcher, Matt Reagan, was on fumes and I had a reliever ready to go. I called time and as I approached the foul line intending to make the move, Ragin’ Reagan strode towards me, wild-eyed, yelling, “Don’t do it, Rich!” I didn’t.
The bottom line for 2025 is that Scherzer/Schneider moment will always define my memory of the Blue Jays’ game, the series and perhaps, eventually, the World Series.
An all time performance in my opinion! Agreed it will be legendary.
Totally agree. It's not on the scale of the bat flip, but it's a signature moment that won't be forgotten. The bat flip didn't result in a World Series, but it still feels like it did. Even if we lose this series to Seattle, the Scherzer Snarl will still always feel like a win.