As the tributes pour in, Tom Henke remembers his friend Mike Flanagan as the ultimate teammate.
The ball just kept sailing.
Where it might have landed no one could be quite sure – Spadina Avenue maybe? But its flight was interrupted by the fifth deck in left field of what was then SkyDome; what was then a new stadium.
It was put there by Jose Canseco, then of the Oakland A’s, then at the peak of his powers – ill-begotten or not.
Like the 50,076 in the stadium for Game 4 of the 1989 American League Championship Series and the millions watching at home, Mike Flanagan—the ageing lefty who threw the pitch that Canseco snapped into orbit—could only watch.
He collected himself got the next batter, and after the inning he jogged to the Blue Jays dugout and told his pal Tom Henke: "I must not be as old as I thought. I can still throw the ball a long way."
Flanagan was one of Henke’s best friends on those early dynasty Jays teams that the crafty left-hander helped solidify when he arrived in Toronto in August of 1987.
He pitched parts of three seasons here, generally quite well, if not at the level of mastery he displayed in winning a Cy Young award in Baltimore in 1979 when he went 23-9.
But for Henke, the Blue Jays’ iconic hard-throwing, country-boy reliever, Flanagan was a fishing buddy, someone to wade into the nearby Credit River with in search of salmon.
On Thursday word of Flanagan’s sudden passing outside of his Maryland home—ruled a suicide by a Baltimore medical examiner—hadn’t reached Henke’s farm in Taos, Missouri when we called from Toronto asking for some thoughts on his old friend and teammate.
There was a moment of shock and bewilderment. And then the memories:
"Mike had a tremendous sense of humour, he just had this way about him, a tremendous wit," said Henke. "Teammates loved him. He could keep the clubhouse loose and make light of a tough situation and just seem to make things better."
Such as a perfect one-liner moments after giving up a 484-foot home run.
The reactions to Flanagan’s death came quickly as they spread through the baseball community.
Over and over again came stories of a pitcher who competed ferociously and a teammate who couldn’t help but find the funny in any given moment.
ESPN baseball writer Tim Kurkjian related a story about hitching a ride to old Exhibition Stadium with Flanagan, then freshly arrived in Toronto from Baltimore thanks to a trade by Jays GM Pat Gillick.
The players had the use of free Honda Civics provided to the club, but ones plastered with Blue Jays logos. Flanagan said he knew his particular Honda had been used by one-time Blue Jay Phil Neikro (who was 48 the summer he pitched in Toronto) because he found his false teeth in the glove compartment.
On a young, emerging team Flanagan was the third or fourth starter behind the likes of Jimmy Key and Dave Stieb, a droll veteran presence who had won a Cy Young and won four of his six September starts after coming back from knee surgery in 1983 helping the Orioles win the World Series later that fall.
There was hope that his arrival might help the Blue Jays get over the top in 1987 when the club fielded their best team outside of their two World Series years.
So when what had seemed like a magical season for the Blue Jays began to unravel in late September, who better to give the ball to than Flanagan, the staff veteran, the Cy Young winner, the World Series champion.
"Mike was one of those guys – his record speaks for itself," said Henke. "He was an incredible competitor. He never wanted to come out of the game. As a teammate it was calming having him pitch in a situation like that because you knew he was going to give his best effort every minute he was on the mound."
In a late afternoon start at old Tiger Stadium, Flanagan took the ball against the Tigers’ Jack Morris. What followed might be the best pitching performance in Blue Jays history.
Taking advantage of the setting early October sun and the sea of white shirts in the background as 45,026 packed the place to see the two best teams in baseball battle to the wire for the pennant, Flanagan gave up one earned run over 11 innings.
He left with the game tied 2-2, the Jays tied with Detroit atop the AL East, and the sun hanging low. He didn’t want to come out, but manager Jimy Williams had his mind made up.
Blue Jays fans know how the story ends.
Jays left-hander Jeff Musselman comes out of the bullpen for the 12th and loads the bases. With the infield in, Mark Eichhorn gets a sharp grounder from Alan Trammell – a double-play ball if Manny Lee can handle it. Instead it leaks through Lee’s legs, the run scores and a season of hope is gone.
Flanagan, never at a loss for words, had no jokes for that.
But he relished the challenge of pitching with a season hanging in the balance.
"When things are going right, you don't even see the batter," he said. "It's just tunnel vision. It's total concentration."
It was a game that promised to go on forever. "It had a beat of its own," Flanagan said.
Unfortunately for baseball and for Jays fans, the beat can’t go on forever and all good things come to an end.
