For the past few weeks, I’ve watched men with construction helmets walking in and out of Tiger Stadium. We all know they’re not there to construct anything. They are sizing up the ballpark for its destruction.
Last year around this time, I watched former Detroit Tigers legendary announcer, Ernie Harwell, walking in and out of Tiger Stadium. Mr. Harwell and his agent, Gary Spicer, were there to try to save some remnants of Detroit’s beloved ballpark. What a difference a year can make.
Mr. Harwell’s involvement had all the makings of a happy ending. A white knight was riding in to save a friend in need. It gave hope to people all across the country who’d been praying that Tiger Stadium, like so many other historic landmarks, wouldn’t be thrown into the trash heap of Detroit’s withering history.
For the past 10 years, I have witnessed ordinary folks driving up and photographing Tiger Stadium from every possible angle. This has been an every day occurrence — even 9 years after the Tigers’ departure. There is no question that the Old Girl means a tremendous deal to Detroit’s baseball fans from all generations.
I just discovered a great little amateur video that was put together by some passionate Tiger Stadium fans named Queena Kim, Charlie LeDuff, and Frank J. Parker that I think you’ll enjoy. It includes an interview with Ernie Harwell and some haunting images from inside Tiger Stadium. It gives a good historical account of Detroit and the tragedy it has become. Click on the image below to view it.
From 1983 to 1999, I attended close to 20 Tiger’s games per year. I live in Grand Rapids and it is a little drive to Detroit. I had a lot of good memories and saw many incredible players there. After the ’99 season I stopped going and watching. This year, realizing the corner was coming to a final end, I decided to bring my kids to their first game but first we went to the corner so they could see the historic stadium. I have to admit I was deeply disappointed in Commerica Park. I felt like I was at a AAA game. I guess in this area, the last place to watch a real game is Wrigley Field.
Thanks for taking the time to write, Wayne. I would add Fenway Park to the list as well.
Each day, as the powers that be further mishandle the Tiger Stadium situation, I find another way to define the old park’s excellence.
This “how do I love thee / let me count the ways” phenomenon was brought into particular focus today (May 11) as I headed downtown in the wet, ruefully anticipating spending several hours battling the cold rain and wind that invades even the concourse of Comerica Park.
I was thinking fondly of Tiger Stadium and the ease with which box seat holders migrated upward into the shelter of the upper deck, and even more fondly of the luxury of thawing out under the blast of hot air from the ladies room heater, when I suddenly had a vivid recollection of aday much like this one when I found myself in a hotdog line behind Edsel Ford. Edsel’s kid (about waist high and totally muffled in a black, hooded jacket) took a lunge past me – something that was obviously not part of the day’s program. Instinctively, I snagged him and handed him back, hood first, to his appreciative father. I remember that Edsel was wearing a bright blue windbreaker that was almost exactly the same color as the painted walls around us. He turned toward me, the rain still dripping off the end of his nose. He was hunched up, shivering a bit, and absolutely grinning from ear to ear. “Isn’t this great?” he asked? And it was. It was baseball; it was Tiger Stadium, and, even if the game didn’t go on, we were all of us exactly where we wanted to be.