Kevin Shanahan sat in his Mississauga home, staring at a screen in a state of complete bewilderment. On the broadcast, a mischievous, big-eyed blue jay mascot was hamming it up in the ballpark, playing to the crowd with the same manic energy Shanahan had channeled for two decades. The only problem was that Shanahan hadn’t been told his creation was coming back.
For the man who designed, built, and performed the character, the experience felt less like a nostalgic homecoming and more like a surreal break in reality. “When I saw it, it was this kind of multi-verse … there’s been a glitch in the matrix,” Shanahan said. “I’m kind of going ‘What am I doing there?'”
The news that BJ Birdy is back with the Blue Jays has sparked a wave of nostalgia among Toronto baseball fans, but it has likewise reopened an old wound regarding ownership and intellectual property. While the Toronto Blue Jays have reintroduced the mascot to mark the club’s approach toward its 50th season, they did so without notifying the creator, who maintains that he still holds the copyright to the character.
Shanahan, who spent 20 years as the face of the franchise, only learned of the bird’s return when reporters reached out to him. “It would have been nice if they would have contacted me and asked or at least informed me,” he said. “Maybe they thought they had the rights. Or maybe they thought I lost the rights. Or maybe they’re just celebrating BJ. Hopefully they’re not marketing him.”
The birth of a ballpark icon
The story of BJ Birdy began in 1979, when a 20-year-old Shanahan was working at Ontario Place, located just across from the Blue Jays’ then-home at Exhibition Stadium. Tasked with creating animal mascots, Shanahan was inspired to design a slightly odd-looking blue jay. He called him BJ Birdy.
The path to the big leagues wasn’t immediate. After an initial pitch to the team failed, Shanahan took a more public approach, landing on the cover of the Toronto Sun to make his case. The stunt worked. Management took notice, and BJ Birdy made his official debut on Sept. 11, 1979.
For the next two decades, BJ became a staple of the Toronto sports experience. He was there for the transition to the SkyDome and the euphoria of back-to-back World Series championships in 1992 and 1993. He became legendary for his boundary-pushing antics: riding bicycles into walls, clowning on top of dugouts, and even receiving an ejection from an umpire.
Most notably, BJ broke the unspoken “cardinal rule” of mascot performance—he spoke. While most mascots remained silent mimes, BJ’s voice gave him a distinct, human personality that resonated with the fans.
A ‘business decision’ and a legal gray area
The partnership ended abruptly in 1999. Terry Zuk, the Blue Jays’ marketing vice-president at the time, described the move to replace BJ as a business decision. Zuk noted that the club was in the unusual position of not owning its own mascot and expressed a belief that mascots should be mute.
The split was jarring for Shanahan, but he attempted to find a middle ground. He offered to sell the rights to the character to the team for what he described as a “reasonable” amount. The Blue Jays declined the offer, opting instead to introduce new characters, including Ace and Diamond. Because the team declined to buy the rights, Shanahan maintains that ownership of the character never transferred to the club.
This creates a complex intellectual property situation. Nathaniel Lipkus, an intellectual property lawyer with Osler, Hoskin & Harcourt LLP, suggests that the team’s refusal to buy the rights in 1999 may have implicitly acknowledged that those rights belonged to Shanahan. Under copyright law, protection generally lasts for the life of the author plus 70 years.
Shanahan’s take on the legal timeline is simpler: “I haven’t been dead 70 years.”
Legacy vs. Ownership
Since 1999, Shanahan has lived a quiet life, spending more than two decades as a school teacher. He has no desire for a costly legal battle, noting that he doesn’t have the tens of thousands of dollars required for a specialty lawyer’s retainer. However, the return of BJ Birdy is back with the Blue Jays has reminded him of the profound connection he built with the city.
The club is now attempting to mend the relationship. Andrea Goldstein, a spokesperson for the Blue Jays, stated that the organization’s intention has always been to honor BJ Birdy’s legacy and that they remain eager to connect directly with Shanahan to include him in milestone moments. When asked specifically about the copyright ownership or why he wasn’t contacted before the mascot’s return, the organization did not provide a direct answer.
In the meantime, the “vintage mascots”—including BJ, Domer the Turtle, and Diamond—have been appearing at select games. Recent broadcasts have shown BJ in his classic mischievous form, even being “force-fed” Loonie Dogs for the amusement of the crowd. For Shanahan, seeing the positive reaction from fans on social media has been the most rewarding part of the experience.
“It’s nice to be remembered,” he said.
Disclaimer: This article discusses matters of intellectual property and copyright law. It is provided for informational purposes and does not constitute legal advice.
The Blue Jays have indicated they are still seeking a direct dialogue with Shanahan. Whether this leads to a formal recognition of his role as the creator or a legal settlement remains to be seen as the team continues its anniversary celebrations.
Do you have a favorite memory of BJ Birdy from the 80s or 90s? Share your stories in the comments below.
