#151. Insurance (Friday, September 29, 2023)

What was your best day of…being insured from disaster?

You know I’m a fan of my triple-entendres (#84), so here are the three forms of insurance that were top of mind on this day:

Insurance for the Blue Jays’ playoff hopes: They enter this day, the first of a three-game series at home versus the Rays, with a two-game cushion over the Mariners for the final postseason spot. They’ve got an over 95% chance to make it at this point, but a win today would give them the extra cushion they need to virtually guarantee October baseball. (Which, despite the expanded 12-team playoff format, I still consider a treasured rarity for the Jays.) Naturally, I’ve been anticipating this; so I take the afternoon off and take the first train I can to Toronto for the game.
Insurance for my continuation as a Principal Analyst: My current Principal Analyst position in foreign reserves is a term position, filling in for Celdieu Perodin (#74) while he’s on secondment until next March. If he returns, then I’ll be demoted back to senior analyst. Though a lot has to happen before that admittedly disastrous (because the year has gone very well for me so far) outcome occurs: namely, Celdieu has to actually come back (a 50/50 at best), and I’m not able to leverage this experience to get a permanent principal position in the meantime.

Luckily, one of two principal positions in my old debt management function—which I’d left as a senior analyst almost six years to go to foreign reserves—has a new opening. Very similar to a year ago (#74), I’m told by their director I should be a top candidate (and I know I am), I apply, and I prepare intensely for the interview—which just took place two days before this. I think I did pretty well, despite in the middle of dealing with…
Insurance for a minor parking lot collision from the past weekend: This is my first time, and it’s much trickier than I expected. More importantly, I have no internal experience on this nor any internal scale on what is normal. I try to manage the situation—and my own stress levels—as best as I can between all the interview preparation. But I’m still expecting a critical call today, at some yet-unstated time after noon.

Needless to say, the combination of all three of these have me beyond tense as I ride the VIA train to Toronto—even though I have virtually no control over all three at this point. This tension is not alleviated as the promised phone call does not arrive. And especially not when the train takes an unplanned hour-and-half stop in the middle mechanical repairs.

I end up arriving at Rogers Centre (which, thankfully, is right next to the train station) in the Bottom of Fourth, where the entire stadium is electric because (also thankfully) Cavan Biggio has just hit an error-assisted inside-the-park-home-run to give the Jays a 7-0 lead. So that’s one part of the insurance equation (mostly) settled. The Jays don’t blow this, cruise to a win, and at the end of the day sit just one game away from clinching.

And in the seventh inning, I receive a phone call. The one I’ve been waiting for. I rush out into the Rogers Centre stairwell to take it, it goes well, and most of worries on the car situation are settled. A huge relief. (The only problem is that I’m now locked in the stairwell, so I have to bang like an idiot on the glass for a good five minutes for someone in the concourse to let me back in. At least five or six groups who see me just point and laugh (justifiably) until someone finally comes…)

The next day, Masato (my best friend from undergraduate, #104, #27, #5) joins me for the afternoon Jays game.¹ They lose in extra innings and miss their chance to clinch. But then, that night at the massive Real Sports bar next to the stadium, I watch the Mariners lose their game to give the Jays the final playoff spot. So that’s second insurance matter settled. (I proceed to go clubbing at Toybox nightclub until three in the morning, which in itself is a top-ten ever club night for me, #62, #24.)

As for the third item of insurance, that would have to wait until Thursday, when I was back in Ottawa. Back in the office.

And just like in #74, the director the Debt Management team arranges a five-minute meeting with me. And just like I did then, I get the role.

What followed was not one ordinary sigh of relief.²

He can only join me for this, and a quick dinner and drinks at Union Chicken—by far the best restaurant located right next to train station I’ve ever eaten at—because him and his wife are in the middle of a move from the city to Burlington.
Though, to be accurate, the Jays by that point had already been eliminated from the playoffs, having lost their second game against the Twins the night before.