Brett Lawrie’s dugout celebration was a representation of exactly what the Blue Jays hope to be.
It was the morning after the night before, and the Toronto Blue Jays were collectively taking inventory.
Like the lucky survivors of a high-speed collision they were moving joints, making sure everything worked, breathing a sigh of relief and then laughing at the thought of danger averted.
Such is life when Brett Lawrie has something to celebrate.
The rookie's post grand-slam, fire-breathing, helmet-throwing, fist-pumping dugout tour Wednesday night may have sent his teammates running for cover, but the next morning the club was still reveling in the jolt of electricity that he sent through their team.
It's not a cure-all. Lawrie was 0-for-3 with a strikeout and a walk after his big night Wednesday. There was a throwing error. As a group the Jays played like they'd over-celebrated the night before a 12:37 p.m. start as they got smoked 10-3 by the A's.
But despite the possibility that Lawrie's celebration may have played poorly on the Oakland side of the diamond and prompted the A's to throw at Yunel Escobar, the Jays are hoping for more outbursts from Lawrie, not less.
"These are not spikes of emotion," said Blue Jays manager John Farrell. "That motor is running 24-7. ... that's how he's wired. It's like the football mentality every day and there aren't many in this game that can do that. It's not artificial, it's not generated in a dark room somewhere and brought out here. It's who he is."
If all goes well -- granted, that's a big fat "if" -- it's who the Blue Jays will be; and it will be a contrast to what they have been in their recent past
The schedule gods being what they are it's inevitable that on the heels of the A's visit to Rogers Centre come the Los Angeles Angels, featuring a certain former Blue Jay packed with athletic ability and fast-twitch muscle fibre.
It's Vernon Wells' first trip back to Rogers Centre since he was traded in the off-season, turning the page on the franchise's recent past and helping set the course for an intriguing future.
But there are no plans for a parade upon his return.
The contract known as Vernon Wells was never short on talent and put some tremendous seasons up in Toronto.
And he cared. It just wasn't easy to tell from a distance. And if that stoicism played well in a veteran clubhouse, the new Jays seem to enjoy the freedom play and tweet with abandon.
"Different people perceive it differently," said Aaron Hill, who played six seasons alongside Wells. "Which is too bad, because when you're with them every day you know he ... gave you everything he had."
But by nature or by choice Wells never mastered the art of looking like he was busting his ass. He was calm. He was laid back. He was the epitome of the even-keeled veteran.
In terms of vibrancy he was on a business trip. Lawrie is on Spring Break and desperate to make sure his buddies have as much fun as he is.
"It's a team game and if one guy is up here and another guy is down there, it doesn't click," said Lawrie.
"But when everyone's here," Lawrie adds as he motions above his head, "and one guys gets a hit and the next guy gets a hit and everyone is all fired up ... that's big. When everyone is so locked into the game it's so much fun to have that feeling inside of you. It's so much fun it's crazy."
Six games don't make a career, no matter how impressive the start Lawrie's had. And Wells' 13 years, 239 home runs and three gold gloves shouldn't be sold short.
But for all of the rookie third-baseman's tools, the most valuable -- provided the on-field production matches expectations -- may be the most intangible: a raw and infectious desire to play the game.
"He's one of those high-energy guys with a passion to compete," said his pal and Twitter partner J.P. Arencibia. "It just spreads to the team. That's the biggest thing and it's impressive. He just loves to compete. He wants to kick someone's butt is what he wants to do."
This being baseball, it's not an achievable goal, at least on a daily basis. The 162-game season is quite rightly described as a grind -- a dripping tap that never lets up.
Even-keeled is a survival technique. But good teams find a way be energized more often than not. And while veterans carry weight, they need picking up too.
He is a rookie, and barely a week into his career at that, but if fans are caught up in what Lawrie represents they shouldn't feel too badly -- his teammates are too.
"Fans respond better to that energy level I guess," said Hill, who leans more to the strong silent type, but can't help but smile thinking about Lawrie's charged charge through the dugout the other night.
"They see the high-fives, the fist bumps, the screaming and jumping around or whatever he was doing when we were all running from him.
"But it's exciting," Hill added. "It is fun. That was a lot fun, to tell the truth."
