The Blue Jays players were there, not sure where to go, what to say, who to talk to. “That effin’ bloop:” said one of his teammates, walking away, another nodding, each of them heading back to their lockers. I felt like I was making good pitches, and throwing strikes.
“It’s the worst feeling in the world,” the great closer whispered. One by one, the players stopped by the locker of Jordan Romano, his eyes red, his face almost expressionless, the Blue Jays standing in their own reception line of sadness and condolence, all of them looking for a hug, a kind word, something to make this night feel better.
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