Our favourite batty blue bird suffered from a serious identity crisis in the last decade. The original understated logo was replaced by such heinous avian manipulations as steroid bird (2000) and angry bird (2004). The latter, a snarling, almost unrecognizable Ace, became symbolic of a dismal performance record (for those who have stopped keeping score, we haven’t made post-season play in almost 20 years). News that the Blue Jays brass had decided to return to an updated version of the original emblem—the one worn by Joe Carter, Mookie Wilson and George Bell—was well received by sports fans. Less foreseeable was the co-opting of the retro Blue Jays gear by the fashionable people who tend to congregate in Leslieville bars and on the far reaches of Queen West. Brave the three-hour lineup for tacos at the tiny restaurant Grand Electric and you’ll spot at least one or two natty lads who have taken support for the home team to new sartorial heights. If the Jays ever do make it back into the playoffs, the mob rioting on Yonge Street is going to be a lot better dressed.
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Courtney Shea is a freelance journalist in Toronto. She started her career as an intern at Toronto Life and continues to contribute frequently to the publication, including her 2022 National Magazine Award–winning feature, “The Death Cheaters,” her regular Q&As and her recent investigation into whether Taylor Swift hung out at a Toronto dive bar (she did not). Courtney was a producer and writer on the 2022 documentary The Talented Mr. Rosenberg, based on her 2014 Toronto Life magazine feature “The Yorkville Swindler.”