Placing my pre-order now: The Complete History of the Montreal Expos

Would if I could upon learning that Jonah (The Extra 2%: How Wall Street Strategies Took a Major League Baseball Team from Worst to First) Keri is working on the “definitive” history of the team.

Although I was not born there, my maternal side hails from that city and I have fond memories of family visits plus the five summers I spent working at Camp Maromac in the Laurentians. So that makes Keri — a Montreal expatriate who resides in New Hampshire — my landsman, my homey, if only in my mind.

Jarry Park (or Parc Jarry, as they say up there) was a particular favorite spot. The tiny ballpark was a long (long) walk from my aunt’s house in Outremont and for some reason I always got seats on the first base side, which spelled potential disaster in early evening games when the sun set over the left field wall.

The first time I ever saw a professional ballplayer away from the field was when I was in a downtown department store and chanced upon Mike Torrez, then a pitcher on the team. I recall thinking how big he was (6’5″). Because I’m such a pack rat, I probably still have the postcard he was handing out, along with all my Expos programs, scorecards, and yearbooks from those days.

I continued to follow the team when they moved to Olympic Stadium (or Stade Olympique/Parc Olympique, as they say up there; it’s like those French Canadians have a different name for everything, to borrow from Steve Martin), but it wasn’t the same. That place was charmless, cold concrete. I spent a week in Montreal in 2002, when it looked that that would be the Expos’ final year before contraction or relocation, doing research for a book. I attended the final homestand of the season, which was especially gloomy. Even the final game didn’t draw much of a crowd.

I don’t know. To me the exterior shots of the crane that was supposed to make the roof retractable (did they ever figure that out? Can’t even remember.) looked like a giant nose from a certain angle.

Anyway, I was privileged to spend a week in the press box. The folks there — French and Anglo — welcomed me with bemusement: why would anyone outside Montreal care abut the team when people inside Montreal didn’t much care about the team? I’m afraid I’ve long since forgotten all of their names except Stephanie Myles of the Montreal Gazette, who’s a Facebook friend. I must admit it was kind of cool to be the proud owner of a press pass with all its rights and privileges and be on a first-name basis with the security guys. This was my first foray into such a world; I had not yet begun my second career as a newspaper journalist so this was all new to me. No doubt the veterans couldn’t wait for the season to end. One enduring memory: Omar Minaya, then the GM for the Expos, helping himself to my popcorn (did I mention the press ate free, with their own chef? And not just hot dogs, but real food and desserts! Why do I feel like Tom Hanks in Big?)

Anyway…

The last game was Fan Appreciation Day. I’m sure the team would have appreciated if more fans showed up. They brought back several of their old players, including Tim Raines, Buck Rodgers, Ron Hunt, and Claude Raymond, a local “boy” and, hence, a fan favorite. Or “favourite,” as they say up there.)

Then there was Frank Robinson, the Expos’ manager. By the end of September, what could the media possibly have to ask him? I found the post-game press conferences depressing, as no one seemed to want to bother Robinson by asking any questions. I actually got up the nerve to pose how differently things were from when he was playing. If I remember correctly, he was mildly interested because it was something other than how his pitchers were pitching and hitters were hitting. Of course, I could be totally wrong, but it’s pretty to think so.

The only active player I spoke with was Andres Galarraga. Actually I tried to speak with him, but either a) his English wasn’t that good, or b) he just didn’t want to bother with me. I knew he was an artist so I used that as a topic of interest but it was just too difficult.

This guy struck me as regular around the stadium. He usually wore a giant cowboy hat and wild Montreal team jersey:

All in all it was a great week, even if the Expos did screw up the project by staying in Montreal for another couple of years. I stayed in Le Roberval, a nice efficiency suite i the heart of downtown so I could make my own meals. It was the first time I didn’t stay with family or friends, but I wanted to be close to the ball park for easy access and they all lived way on the other side own. Woke up on the Sunday of my visit to hear bagpipes out the window. Turned out there was some sort of procession every week, although I can’t remember why. Perhaps one of my Canadian readers can remind me.