Share your favorite Cito moment.

Last summer Mike and I took our first trip to Toronto to see some Jays home games. We were eating supper one night at a delicious little French restaurant and in comes Cito and his wife who were meeting another couple. They were sitting at the table opposite us! It looked like the other couple was trying to sell them on something and his wife seemed very interested but Cito looked completely bored. After the game the next day Mike went to get his autograph and asked him if he enjoyed his dinner then night before. Cito looked very shocked but was extremely polite and had a nice chat with Mike about the restaurant. We came away thinking what a nice guy he is.

I had a chance to be around Cito during his first go around, when I was a runner with the Jays in 1989-90, which basically involved being a gofer behind the scenes, from the clubhouses to every corner of the stadium. It was a long time ago and can’t really put my finger on a single moment that stands out. Instead, what always comes to mind when I think back to Cito, whether it’s being up close and personal with him or seeing him from afar is how he always exuded a quiet calmness.

I remember when Jimy Williams got fired in 1989 and there was a kind of a nervous buzz around the Ex as you get in these situations. Like witnesses to a death or crime scene, everyone’s a bit on egg shells, chatting nervously and wondering what the future holds. And I just remember seeing Cito calmly walking down the long alley under the third base grandstand at the Ex from the Jays clubhouse to where the players and coaches had their cars parked in the little space beyond the left field foul pole between the two grandstands.

It was such a small place that the cars were parked three deep, so one of our jobs was to be car jockeys after the game, watching for the guys coming down, quickly finding their car and clearing a space for it to get out. The way we knew the cars is that most drove white Hondas on loan from the club sponsor for the season with the licence plate having their uniform number in it (and the keys always stayed in the ignition). But I digress.

Anyway, it was amidst this time of uncertainty after Jimy got let go, which as a 16-year-old was really my first instance up close of seeing someone get fired, that I remember Cito walking down that alley. And what struck me that it was just the same old Cito, an imposing figure certainly in size and stature, but as always just walking quietly along. And though at that time we weren’t thinking he’d get the managerial gig on a permanent basis, there was just a sense that everything was going to be alright. The team was in safe hands.

And that impression of Cito always remained. Whether he’d pass you in the clubhouse hallway with a quiet hello, or you’d see him sitting back in his office, or in the dugout, or just walking down those corridors under the stands, there was always that quiet calmness with him. And I know that’s in part what drove some people crazy about Cito, this idea that he was just dozing through games or something. But that was just his way, what he projected out, in an even-keel approach to life, and I can respect that.

There’s a lot to be said for having someone at the helm who can exude that calm confidence, which is often infectious and reassures others. It certainly did in the aftermath of Jimy Williams’ firing and helped right that listing 1989 ship that went on to then make the playoffs. And it was exactly what those veteran teams that went on to win the World Series needed. But maybe it wasn’t always best for some of the later teams, as different teams respond to different styles I suppose. But in the end, I’d still rather have someone with that quality to calm things down over some other managers who seem wound up too tight.

Regardless, that’s the memory that will always stay with me about Cito. And though I’m not around to see his farewell this time or watch it on TV, I can just picture in my mind that familiar silhouette of Cito walking out of the clubhouse one last time (at least as manager), down the corridor as he quietly ambles out into the night.