Usually, the green innocence of spring gives it a preliminary shape. The lazy days of summer mold it. Finally, crisp autumn eves decide it. "It," of course, is the pennant race.

What will we do this year, without the June swoons, the July days, the August streaks and the September stretch? What will happen to our psyches when ballplayers forsake bats for pickets? Boycotted Olympics aside, what are the implications for politics and sports when the presidential race acquires, by default, a monopoly of the public's attention?

Right now, the rescue mission to save our season seems destined to be aborted. For the record, the Boston Red Sox will probably close out their schedule May 22 in Toronto against the Blue Jays, who will be struggling for their first American League East crown. If the Jays succeed, at least one newfound bastion of baseball will be able to while away the summer basking in glory.

***

Opening day, Toronto, April 1977: About 45,000 fans, formerly hockey devotees cram Exhibition Stadium by the shores of Lake Ontario to witness the Blue Jays' home debut. Souvenir ticket stubs go for a buck, cokes for 95 cents. One minor problem delays the game: the field is blanketed in snow.

By the fourth inning, spectators can detect traces of green artificial turf. Eventually, the playing surface emerges but the snowfall continues until the top of the ninth.

The White Sox put up a valiant battle, but these Blue Jays will not be denied victory. Doug Ault clouts two homers, then comes to the plate with the bases loaded. He hits into a double play.

No matter. The Jays prevail, 9-5. Only half the fans get frostbite.

***

After jumping out to a blistering 5-2 start that first season, the Jays melted. Manager Roy Hartsfield implored victory-starved supporters to remain patient, often citing the New York Mets.

But Toronto fans' hunger for wins was mild measured against their thirst for beer. Ontario's priggish provincial government deemed the vending of alcoholic beverages at the ballpark immoral.

Thereafter, the team acquires the not so-affectionate nickname of "Brew Jays." Doug Ault mires himself in a horrible slump.

***

Toronto has something of a baseball heritage. For many years, the Maple Leafs competed with a modicum of success in the International League. A youthful Rico Carty proved his hitting mettle at Christie Pitts, the Leafs' home. Sparky Anderson and Dick Williams sharpened their managing expertise.

Paralysis