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Gleyber Torres of the New York Yankees attempts a double play in the seventh inning after forcing out Bo Bichette of the Toronto Blue Jays at Yankee Stadium on Aug. 21, 2022 in New York City.Jim McIsaac/Getty Images

Seven days ago, the big story about the Toronto Blue Jays was how Yusei Kikuchi was singlehandedly sabotaging their season.

Six months ago, Kikuchi was an undervalued treasure the Jays dug up on the international market. By last week, after a bumpy run of mound implosions, he was the reason baseball people usually buy North American.

One ballplayer being disappointingly mediocre in a given year isn’t a surprise. A team’s lucky if it has only one or two. But reading about Kikuchi online, you’d think the poor guy was being bad on purpose.

The Jays had just lost a few to the Orioles. The Orioles are supposed to be terrible, except they’re good now and everybody’s having trouble adjusting their expectations. Someone had to be blamed for the flaming wreck the campaign was turning into. Unfortunately, Kikuchi was the person peeking over the edge of the trench at that moment.

After everyone had spent a couple of days breathing into paper bags, Kikuchi was moved to the bullpen. He’s gone from a bad, relatively cheap starter to a good, incredibly expensive middle reliever. It’s a scouting fiasco, but everyone was too busy whipsawing to the other emotional extreme to worry about that.

Because all of a sudden the Jays won a couple. Not eight or nine. Two.

In the same way that four losses equals a sinking ship in Jays land, a couple of nice wins turns them into a rocket headed straight to the moon.

Our story had shifted to Manhattan, which is the worse place on Earth to be in August. Imagine a sauna if the sauna had been built on top of a dump.

The Yankees won the American League East in June and have been trying to give it back ever since. A wretched, nearly two-month New York run had turned the Jays’ double-digit deficit behind the division leaders to a theoretically possible seven games behind.

A week ago, people were getting ready to throw in the towel. Now they were talking about the possibility – or was it likelihood? – that the Jays would win the division outright.

The Yankees sure looked like a team on the edge. Their manager, Aaron Boone, may be the coolest customer in the majors. He’s got the resting heart rate of an iguana. But by Saturday, Boone had begun ranting in public.

“We gotta play better,” Boone said. “And the great thing is …” – and here Boone reached his hand up in the air and slammed his open palm on the table so hard he startled himself – “... it’s right in front of of us.”

It is always lovely to see the Yankees suffer. It’s what makes baseball special. It is especially heartwarming to see the Jays causing so much consequence-less pain to the most self-regarding outfit in the sport.

So it would’ve been great to see New York go to Condition Red after another loss on Sunday. In the instant after Jays starter Alek Manoah lightly drilled Yankee star Aaron Judge, pure chaos seemed possible. What might have happened then? A line brawl spreading into the stands and then to the surrounding streets until someone got the idea to blow the bridges?

Sadly, reason prevailed. The Yankees went on to win.

It was one of those either/or games no one really loses, but someone has to win. In this case, it was Andrew Benintendi and a seventh-inning home run inside the pole in right. It finished 4-2.

That ball goes foul and who knows? Maybe New York is burning right now.

Instead, the Yankees have extended their division lead to eight games. The Jays have 42 games left in which to close that gap.

Is it possible? Sure. Anything’s possible.

But, like, really possible? No. It’s not.

But isn’t it great to care about baseball in August again? Not care in the put-on-a-game-while-you’re-making-dinner sense, but feel like every final score is either a triumph of the will or a harbinger of doom, with no in-between.

For the first time in a few years, you could feel non-manufactured hysteria coming off Toronto’s most online fans these past few days. Even the announcers sound more lit up.

This is the silver lining to fielding a team of muppets for a few years. Everyone forgets what it’s like to care all the time, or to have real expectations, or to feel part of the fate of other, better advertised franchises.

This past weekend wasn’t about talking up the Jays so much as it was putting America and America’s broadcasters on notice for October: The Jays are back.

You can’t fully enjoy a winner unless you have been a loser. That’s the sneaky sales pitch that allows teams the freedom to tank. The temporary pain makes the pleasure to come even sweeter. The longer you extend the pain, the greater the eventual pleasure.

Even while you’re complaining about your terrible team, you’re thinking about how great it will be when they win. We are all wretched optimists.

It will also make the little disappointments keener and the reaction to them less reasonable. If the Jays thought l’affaire Kikuchi was a bit much, wait and see what they get if they fall out of a wild-card spot. That could happen two nights from now.

By next weekend, there is a possible world in which the Jays have returned to bunker mode. All options – everything from impossible triumph to raging defeat – are on the table now.

This is what September is supposed to be like. It’s fun to feel that little tingle again, regardless of where it all ends up.

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