TORONTO -- The Blue Jays still live in the long and singular shadow of José Bautista.

Bautista and his own teams started in the shadows of a postseason drought that eventually stretched to 22 years, as an entire country watched and waited to feel what they’d felt in 1992 and '93 -- either for the first time or once more. Then, it came.

Those American League Championship Series runs in 2015 and '16 emboldened a fanbase with the same brash energy of Bautista’s teams, a collection of stars and swagger that was equally capable of beating you in a ballpark or a bar fight. Those teams had sharp, rugged edges that Canada loved and everyone else hated. The Blue Jays were no longer baseball’s harmless little brother up north.

With each missed opportunity, in the postseason or on its doorstep, those days drift further away and the shadows stretch on.

Bautista is 42 now. As he stood on the field with his wife and four young daughters on Saturday afternoon at Rogers Centre, wiping away tears when the curtains rolled back to reveal his name on the Blue Jays’ Level of Excellence, it was a reminder of Bautista’s greatness, but also of the eight years that have passed since Toronto lit everyone’s hearts on fire again.

Searching for that spark once more, the Blue Jays are stuck battling for the final Wild Card spot after Saturday’s 5-4 loss to the Cubs. Where they will finish, manager John Schneider says, is not where they stand today -- and that’s necessary. This is a team of stars looking to create their own moments that live forever, like Vladimir Guerrero Jr., who had just signed as a baby-faced 16-year-old in 2015.

“I remember back in instructional league, the team gave us the opportunity to watch the playoff games,” Guerrero said through a club interpreter. “I remember they had a big-screen TV and food for us to enjoy the playoffs. José was so great.”

On this day eight years ago, the Blue Jays were 10 wins into an 11-game streak that kicked their season into overdrive just days after acquiring Troy Tulowitzki and David Price. Fans were in a frenzy. Even their friends who rarely watched the games before were suddenly living and dying with every out, every night.

That feeling is hard to describe and even harder to capture. It’s a cluster of anxiety and incredible joy shared between friends and strangers, barreling forward with a momentum that feels like it will last forever. When it’s gone, nothing can replace it but the real thing.

Players feel this, too. It’s why so many of Bautista’s former teammates from those postseason teams showed up on Saturday, as fans erupted for each and every one of them. They represent something bigger, something permanent.

“It’s about realizing how a city and a fanbase can rally around a player and a team,” said Schneider. “It was a cool run for a couple of years with that core group of guys and José was the face of it.”

In a narrow loss to the Cubs, the Blue Jays had a shot at a late comeback that would have been fitting on Bautista’s day, but the rally fell short, handing Toronto its third consecutive loss. We’ve seen far greater turnarounds, though. The Blue Jays were 50-51 on July 28, 2015, the day they traded for Tulowitzki and signaled they were all in. This year’s Blue Jays, at 65-54, need their moment.

Few appreciate the weight of this more than Guerrero, who has known great expectations since birth. To catch the ceremonial first pitch from Bautista, his fellow Dominican star, was a moment that connected two distinctly different eras of Blue Jays baseball.

“It was very, very emotional,” Guerrero said. “He really deserved this, everything today. He was a person who did a lot for this organization and this city. People love him here.”

Typically, that ceremonial first pitch is thrown by a season ticket holder, a contest winner, a musician, maybe an athlete from another local team. Whichever Blue Jays player catches the pitch will meet them halfway to the mound, sign the ball and pose for a picture.

On Saturday, it was Guerrero handing the ball back to Bautista, passing him a pen immediately after.

That ball sat in Guerrero’s locker following Saturday’s game, leaning up against a coffee mug with “José Bautista” in blue ink between the red seams.

This team isn’t trying to shake Bautista’s shadow. He’s beloved, the face of an entire generation in this organization. Instead, this club is trying to go farther -- and grow taller -- than those 2015 and '16 teams ever did, to capture that feeling one more time.