Former Michigan Wolverine Tom Brady is appearing in his fifth Super Bowl.

Fielder’s kid comes to town and Inge cries foul
The Tigers pulled the rabbit out of the hat, signing their “Prince,” Mr. Fielder” for $214 million dollars. This signing does a few things. First, Brandon Inge is “not a happy camper”. This according to Jim Leyland at the press conference unveiling the Prince. Who the hell cares if Brandon Inge is upset? He’s a 180 hitter. Never has a .180 hitter received so much attention. Can he make this team? I guess when you have the Prince and Cabrera you can “carry” a guy who really hasn’t belonged in the big leagues for more than a few years. We were fed up with Inge a few years ago, when he returned from an injury and stated (and I paraphrase): “they can’t win without me.” Inge can stop this whining any time. Most people are tired of it. Leyland said he has to hit to make our team. He got lucky. Now he just has to mop up for Cabrera when the Tigers are leading in a game. All Inge is trying to do is position himself to get a Tiger job in the organization when he more than likely is released or quits. Want some advice, Brandon? Just do as they say, stay quiet as a mouse, and they will get you a ring. There’s nothing like that ring!

The third base situation
Cabrera may not be Brooks Robinson at third base, but who would you want to play there, a guy who hits over .300 with power or a guy who hits .180? No brainer, huh? By the way, Cabrera has great hands, has played first base like a gold glover, and with his athleticism, the big guy can play the position. Cabrera is going to boot a few more than likely, but he won’t boot so many that he will cost the Tigers the division.

Prediction for 2012
I am going to also tell you that the Tigers are “LOCKS” for their division. They could have the division tied up by the end of May, that is how potent they are at this time. The Tigers start the season with everyone they picked up last year and all are healthy with the exception of Victor Martinez, who may not be ready to play next year cause he needs at least two operations now for his injuries. They’ll miss him, but not half as much as they would have had Fielder not arrived on the scene.

Stafford and the Pro Bowl flap
There has been a lot of complaining about the fact that Matthews Stafford failed to make the NFL All Pro team. Folks, in the interests of all of us who are pulling for the Lions after these past 55 years, let’s only have him play in games that count. The Lion QB has been hurt a couple times already, and let’s not allow him to do anything stupid like playing in an All-Star Game, especially the way that they play the Pro Bowl. The game is purely an exhibition, no one is putting out at a 100%, and when you are not playing 100%, just kind of going through the motions, injuries have a tendency to occur. If he stays healthy and gets some help on the offensive line, he could pit up Tom Brady numbers, and possibly – if he stays healthy – do things that no one around here ever thought about.

Super Bowl XLVI and Brady’s place in history
How can you not bet on Tom Brady? If he wins this one, he becomes without argument the greatest QB of all time, in my opinion. You know his stats, he is all everything, and he promised his owner that he would play better in the Super Bowl than he did in the last playoff game. The most amazing feat of his career is how he takes mediocre players and makes them great and sustains that greatness while they are catching his pinpoint passes. If he leads the Patriots to victory in Super Bowl XLVI, don’t be too surprised if he retires on top. He has been one hell of a gladiator, and a gladiator with super intelligence, that is what makes him so different from all of the others. I’m not saying that Eli Manning hasn’t been a great QB, but he is more the working man’s QB than Brady. Tom kind of sits back there and just does it smoothly and quickly. Eli kind of “works” at it on every play, but he too has been great this post-season. I think it will be a 38 -27 game in favor of New England, who have too many weapons and experience for the Giants. Plus, they have Tom Brady!

Dave Rozema acknowledges the fans at Tiger Stadium as he leaves the mound during the 1979 season.

In 1977 the Tigers introduced a bumper crop of rookies fresh from the team’s rich farm club system, five of whom would help produce a world championship seven years later.

The group included Jack Morris, Alan Trammell, Lou Whitaker, Lance Parrish, Steve Kemp and a promising 20-year old right hander from Grand Rapids who nearly became the American League Rookie of the Year.

One year after Tiger hurler Mark “The Bird” Fidyrch took the baseball world by storm, Dave Rozema began his ten-year career with an impressive 15-7 record, a 3.09 ERA, 16 complete games, and a August 29, 1977 feature in Sports Illustrated, entitled “The Rose Has Bloomed.”

Nearly twenty years later that same august publication would declare Rozema “one of the 10 Greatest Characters in Detroit Tigers History.”

On April 21, 1977, Rozema earned his first major league win when he beat Carl Yastrzemski and the Red Sox 8-0 on a 4-hit complete game gem at Fenway Park.

Armed with a wicked change up, great control, and the ability to alternate speeds with his curveball and slider, Rozema appeared to be destined for stardom.

But as it turned out, Rozema would soon compete in the long shadow cast by Morris, and earn a reputation as a happy go lucky guy who enjoyed the good times with his best buddy and future brother in law Kirk Gibson. (In 1985, Rozema and Gibson married sisters in a double ring ceremony in Grosse Pointe.)

In 1978, Rozema finished with a 9-12 record and 3.14 ERA, but thereafter he was never able to recapture what he had shown in his rookie season. After serving as a starter from 1977 to 1979, Rozema was used principally as a middle reliever and spot starter.

“Rosey” started the 1982 season with a 3-0 record and a low ERA out of the pen for Sparky, but in May an on-field “Kung Fu” move backfired horribly.

On May 16, 1982, at Tiger Stadium, a bench clearing brawl erupted after two Tigers were hit by pitches from Twins’ pitchers. Rozema ran out of the Tiger dugout and attempted a flying karate kick aimed at John Castino’s midsection but he missed while tearing eight ligaments in his knee. Rozema was carried off on a stretcher and the next day he underwent knee surgery that sidelined him for the season.

In 1983, Rozema came back from the injury wearing a knee brace and compiled an impressive 8-3 record and a 3.43 ERA in 105 innings pitched. During the Tigers 1984 World Championship season he started 16 games and compiled a 7-6 record with a 3.74 ERA in 101 innings. Two months after the World Series, Rozema signed as a free agent with the Texas Rangers where he would end his career in 1986. (I’ll never forget watching the Tiger telecast when Kirk Gibson stepped up to the plate in Texas to face his brother-in-law and best friend. Both players were grinning from ear-to-ear.)

In October 2006, Sports Illustrated selected Rozema as one of the “10 Greatest Characters in Detroit Tigers history.”

According to the magazine his selection was based upon:

“1) the famous “karate kick” misfire, 2) a subsequent injury the same year in which he fell on a flask in his back pocket and needed 11 stitches in his hip, 3) an incident in which he shoved a bar glass into the face of Alan Trammell resulting in 47 stitches near Trammell’s eye, 4) missing a team bus when he overslept after judging a wet t-shirt contest, and 5) using Brillo pads to wash his car.”

By the way, here’s how Sports Illustrated ranked the ten players.

1. Mark Fidrych
2. Norm Cash
3. Boots Poffenberger
4. Dave Rozema
5. Ty Cobb
6. Germany Schaefer
7. Ron LeFlore
8. Herbie Redmond (groundskeeper)
9. Richie Hebner
10. J.W. Porter.

Rozema still lives in the Detroit area and works for HBC Contracting in sales and marketing. He is also an integral part of the Detroit Tigers Fantasy Camps held in Lakeland, Florida, and at Comerica Park.

I can also tell you that Dave is one of the nicest and most approachable former ballplayers you will ever encounter.

- – - – - – - – -

This Saturday, February 4th at Nemo’s Bar on Michigan Avenue near the Tiger Stadium site, Dave Rozema will be part of the 25th annual Babe Ruth Birthday Party. From 8 to 8:30 PM he will participate in a Q and A session and from 8:30 to 9:00 he will sign autographs and hang out with all the celebrants. There is no cover charge and the autographs are free. By the way, Babe Ruth’s grandson and great-grandson are scheduled to attend.

As long as Jim Leyland is leading the Tigers, it seems Brandon Inge will get playing time. But will that finally change in 2012?

As Tiger fans continue to react to the shocking free agent acquisition of Prince Fielder, speculation abounds over the 2012 lineup and proposed shift of Miguel Cabrera across the diamond to third base.

It’s not the first time Cabrera has agreed to play the hot corner for the Tigers. When he was acquired via trade in December of 2007, it was planned that he would replace Brandon Inge at third base. Manager Jim Leyland wanted to use Inge as an insurance policy in case catcher Ivan Rodriguez got hurt (which he did) and also as a super utility man. Inge actually started in center field on opening day in 2008. First base, it was planned, would belong to Carlos Guillen, whose mounting injuries were making it difficult for him to be a middle infielder any longer.

Cabrera started the ’08 season at third (hitting a homer in his first game as a Tiger, off Gil Meche of the Kansas City Royals), but after he committed five errors in the first two and a half weeks of the season, Inge was ordered to pick up his third baseman’s glove again. Cabby was moved to first and he’s been there ever since. With great success, of course. In fact, the big guy has turned himself into a solid defensive first baseman. Even though his range is mediocre, he’s adept at scooping up would-be errant throws from his infield teammates. Cabrera is one of the best players in the game, hands down.

With Fielder now on the roster, Cabrera has offered to move back to third, much to the chagrin of Inge, who inexplicably still has a job with the Tigers despite his abysmal offensive production. Miggy probably would rather stick at first, but let’s face it, with the prospect of the left-handed hitting Fielder behind him in the order, he’ll gladly do the team-first thing.

The Detroit infield with the addition of their new Prince, has Fielder at 1B, Ryan Raburn and Ramon Santiago at 2B, Jhonny Peralta at SS, and Cabrera at 3B. All-Star Alex Avila will be behind the plate. Left to right in the outfield, it appears Leyland will pencil in the names of Delmon Young, Austin Jackson, and Brendan Boesch.

That’s a formidable offensive lineup, and it leaves Inge on the outside. If the longest tenured Tiger was the sort of player who would accept a utility role gracefully (he hasn’t in the past – remember how he scorched the Tigers in the press when he was designated for assignment last year?), he could be a decent bench player. He can play third, has been a big league catcher, can sub in the outfield, and he even has the range and arm to fill in at shortstop. Players who can catch and play almost every other position adequately are rare. They can continue to draw major league paychecks while sitting most of the time on their ass on the bench. Jamie Quirk spent 18 years in that role, and others (Chone Figgins, former Tiger Shane Halter, Mark DeRosa, and Ben Zobrist come to mind, not to mention Tony Phillips) have spent years in the big leagues as role players and super-subs.

But Inge is obviously stubborn and somewhat delusional. He obviously believes he still deserves as full-time job. This despite slugging .376 with a .308 on-base percentage and a .22y batting average over the last FIVE YEARS. He hasn’t been even an average major league third baseman since Todd Jones was closing games out for the Tigers.

But Leyland, who was a marginal professional ballplayer who never made it farther than Double-A ball, has a soft spot for players like Inge. He awards them for things like hustle and sticktoitiveness (that’s the dogged perseverance you often see in professional athletes who have suspect talent). Call it the “Moxie Factor”, something Leyland applies to Andy Dirks and Don Kelly, two role players who unlike Inge, gladly accept their fate as fringe major leaguers.

Leyland admitted that Inge “was not a happy camper” when the manager talked to him following the acquisition of Fielder. But given his terrible performance in recent seasons, how can he complain? The writing is in large letters on the wall. His days are numbered, and he shouldn’t count on owner Mike Ilitch making another personal plea to keep him in a Detroit uniform. Mr. I has just committed over $200 million big ones to one player. Sentimentality can only cover so much.

When the Tigers drafted Inge out of college in 1998 in the second round, they saw him as a catching prospect. Since then, he’s played several roles on the team. In 2012 he may be forced to assume a new role – the role of ex-Tiger.

After 13 years on the Hall of Fame ballot, former Tigers ace Jack Morris is about 45 votes away from earning Hall of Fame election.

Jack Morris is being asked to finish strong one more time.

The pitcher who embodied durability, dependability, and tenaciousness during his 18-year career, needs to complete what he started once again.

This time it’s the Hall of Fame voting process that Morris is going to have to complete, just as he completed more games than any other pitcher of his era. And like his pitching career, which saw Morris gut out victories despite not always having the most eye-popping stuff or most statistically satisfying numbers, Morris is plodding his way toward Hall of Fame election in similar fashion. One writer, one voter, one ballot at a time.

Earlier this month, Morris received 66.7% of the vote, leaving him within shouting distance of Hall of Fame election. If this were one of his starts, Morris would be in the eighth inning, clinging to a lead with about four outs to go. Whether he gets the next four outs of this effort, or falls short, remains to be seen. But Morris has reached a level that few other candidates have without eventually earning election. In the history of Hall of Fame voting, only one player – Gil Hodges – has ever received as much as 60% support and NOT been elected eventually.

For Morris, who seems to have mellowed to the process as years have passed, it would be a tremendous honor. “I have to thank the guys who jumped on board and voted for me and the guys who continue to vote for me and help this along,” Morris told reporters after the vote totals were announced. That’s a far cry from the days when the pitcher was less Jack and more jackass when it came to his relationship with writers.

If Morris does earn election it will mean a lot to him, but it’ll also serve to satisfy Tiger fans who have long had a chip on their shoulder when it comes to national recognition for their beloved players. Alan Trammell, whom most Tiger fans rank ahead of Ozzie Smith, only this year inched above the 30% mark in Hall voting. His double play partner, Lou Whitaker, despite being one of just three second basemen to accumulate at least 2,000 hits, 1,000 RBI, and 200 homers, was erased from the ballot after just once appearance. Lance Parrish, who won multiple Gold Gloves and hit about as many homers as Gary Carter, also spent just one year on the ballot. 1968 World Series hero Mickey Lolich, who struck out more batters than any other lefty in American League history and won over 200 games, has never received strong support for the Hall of Fame even though his name pops up on the veterans committee ballot from time to time. Detroit probably has more “near Hall of Famers” and “should they or should they not?” candidates than any other club. Every January brings another reminder to Tiger fans that their heroes were just not quite great enough.

But next year could be different. Morris needs about 45 voters to change their minds and vote for him. He has two more years to get there, since candidates have 15 chances and 2012 was Morris’s 13th year on the ballot. In 2013, Morris will be the leading vote-getter among returnees to the Hall of Fame ballot. Several superstars of the steroid era will be on the ballot for the first time: Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Mike Piazza, Sammy Sosa, and Craig Biggio. Biggio seems to be a sure thing since he reached the 3,000 hit mark and was never suspected of using illegal drugs to help his performance. But Bonds, Clemens, and Sosa will almost certainly fall short of the 75% threshold due to their reputed use of steroids. Mike Piazza will also be on the ballot for the first time, but he’s likely to get mid-range support similar to that given to Jeff Bagwell in his first two years on the ballot: probably in the range of 40-60%. That leaves Morris in position to pick up votes from those writers who still need time to sort out the steroid era candidates.

Another interesting candidate will be on the Hall of Fame ballot in 2013 for the first time: Curt Schilling. On the surface Schilling possesses many of the same positive traits that Morris has. Schilling was a hard-throwing right-handed ace who led several teams to the post-season. But Schilling’s numbers (ERA, ERA+, WAR and other modern standards of measurement) are better than those of Morris. Will voters compare and contrast, and if so, will Morris take a step backward? In 2007, the last time a strong roster of candidates made their first appearance on the ballot, Morris took a five-point dip.

We won’t know how it shakes out until next January, but one thing is for sure: Morris is closer than he’s ever been and he has a chance, given the clouded reputations of the 2013 crop of new candidates, to jump the 8% or so he needs to be elected.

Just like when Morris was prowling the mound for Detroit, Tiger fans won’t care how he gets the “victory” that would be election to the Hall of Fame, they’ll just be satisfied with the “W”.

The stands are illuminated with flashes as fans take photos of what they expect to be the final pitch at Tiger Stadium.

This article originally appeared in The Freeman’s Journal in September of 1999.

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

Such is the genius of Shakespeare, that even now, half a millennium later, no one has said it much better. The sentence above perfectly expresses how fans of the Detroit Tigers felt last Monday when ancient Tiger Stadium, opened in 1912, hosted its last major league baseball game.

On the one hand, the Tigers, the city of Detroit, and the fans pulled out all the stops and orchestrated a fantastic farewell ceremony. On the other hand, there was no denying the mixed emotions that many fans felt upon coming to the venerable old ballpark for the last time.

Not only was Tiger Stadium opened in 1912, but the site upon which it was built has held professional baseball continuously since 1896, making it most likely the one pro sports venue in America with the longest tenure. This is the place where Ty Cobb sharpened his spikes and ran headlong into the record books and the rolls of legend. This is the place where, on May 2nd, 1939, a mystified Lou Gehrig removed himself from the lineup, unable to comprehend as yet the ravages of Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, the progressive neuromuscular disease which would come to bear his name, after playing in an inconceivable 2130 consecutive games for the New York Yankees. This is the place where Hank Greenberg, powerful Tiger slugger and prominent Jew, reflected that every time he hit a homer, he came to feel that he was hitting it against Hitler. Little wonder he felt that way, as throughout the 1930s, Father Charles Coughlin was regularly broadcasting his anti-Semitic rhetoric across the airwaves from nearby Royal Oak.

This is the place where the Chicago Cubs won their last World Series, on October 14, 1908, and where they played in their last World Series, in 1945, losing to the Tigers. This is the place where the Tigers won the World Series in 1935, 1945, 1968, and 1984. This is the place where Denny McLain was the last pitcher to win 30 games, in 1968. Mark Fidrych took this ballpark, and the baseball world, by storm in 1976, going 19-9 as a 21-year-old rookie, wearing his emotions on his funny face and talking to the ball. This is the place where Kirk Gibson slammed two homers in the fifth and deciding game of the 1984 World Series, burying the Padres and making the venerable Sparky Anderson, baseball’s Yoda, the only manager to win the World Series in both leagues. Mark McGwire hit his first home run here on August 25, 1986.

In addition to the immortals Cobb and Greenberg, this park was the home of Hall-of-Famers like Charlie Gehringer, “The Mechanical Man ,” a master craftsman at second base and the holder of a lifetime .320 batting average. The right field corner of Tiger Stadium was christened “Kaline’s Corner,” after Al Kaline, who won ten gold gloves out there, while racking up 3, 007 career hits and being selected to the All-Star team fifteen times. The pride of Wahoo, Nebraska, Sam Crawford lit up the basepaths here, stealing 366 bases and piling up the all time lead in triples, with 311. Hometown boy Hal Newhouser won the MVP award here in 1944 and 1945, leading the league each time in wins and posting e.r.a.s of 1.81 and 1.94. Mickey Cochrane, Heinie Manush, George Kell, Harry Heilmann and many others wore the old English D on their uniforms here.

I have always been drawn to ballparks, particularly old ones. It may be that as a Cub fan, ancient Wrigley Field is my template for an ideal ballpark. Nevertheless, as the 1999 season dawned, I had never been to Tiger Stadium, two years older than Wrigley. I’d always liked the Tigers’ uniforms, with that big old English D, even though I am predominantly a National League fan. For Cub fans, it was very easy to root for the Tigers in the 1984 World Series, since the McDonald’s owned San Diego Padres had just deflated the Cubs in the NLCS, winning the final three games after the Cubs took the first two. As a matter of fact, I refused to eat at the golden arches for three full years after that debacle, until a very large Big Mac attack finally overwhelmed me. Not only Cub fans had lost something; for baseball traditionalists, the thought of a World Series involving Tiger Stadium and Wrigley Field was compelling, and many thought the Cubs would have given the powerful Tigers a better run for their money.

A year and a half or so ago, my brother, who works for General Motors, was transferred to Detroit. My first two reactions were that he and his family would be closer to me, and that perhaps I’d get to see Tiger Stadium. My first visit to their home was last Christmas, hardly a time to see a baseball game. So when my sister-in-law wrote that tickets for the last game ever in Tiger Stadium were selling fast, I got on the Internet and bought a passel of tickets for the final four-game homestand against the Kansas City Royals on September 24-27. The Wiles family would have a reunion, with my Mom and Dad, as well as my younger brother and his wife, coming in from Peoria while I drove in from Cooperstown.

Detroit is about a five hundred mile drive from here, if you go up through Canada. While you lose a few minutes sitting in customs lines twice, the traffic thins out up there, and the trip flies by quickly, especially since all the distances are posted in kilometers, giving the American traveler used to miles the illusion that he is really flying along. While I made the return trip in one sitting, the trip to Detroit needed to be punctuated by an overnight stay, and so I pulled in to St. Catherine’s, Ontario, and its wonderfully appointed Holiday Inn.

While in town for one evening, I picked up the local paper to learn that the previous day, the St. Catherine’s Stompers, a class A affiliate of the Toronto Blue Jays, had been sold to the New York Mets, who are moving the team to Brooklyn to serve as one of their farm teams. The papers were full of shock, surprise, a little anger, and a lot of resignation. It struck me as a microcosmic example of the large, difficult to understand economic forces which are shaping baseball these days.

Long established team in antiquated stadium is drawing few fans. Renovation or upgrade is either architecturally unfeasible or economically undesirable. Build a new ballpark or lose the team. It was a minor league version of what the Tigers had gone through, though the outcomes were different. The Tigers weren’t moving to a new “market,” the business euphemism for city, but rather to a new marketplace, where they could sell a more diverse product line. In addition to ballgames, hot dogs, and Tiger tradition, the Tigers would now be able to sell a new, clean and safe family atmosphere, gleaming new furnishings, and most of all, corporate luxury boxes, the high-rent bunkers which drive much of the baseball business these days. In order to compete with other clubs, the Tigers had to generate similar amounts and types of revenue. It just wasn’t possible to do so in a park with no luxury boxes, and so they were moving to Comerica Park, a new stadium named after a local bank, for the 2000 season.

It is hoped, by both the Tigers and this writer, that Detroit will embrace Comerica Park. It is a state-of-the-art baseball palace, with all the bells and whistles which have become commonplace since the Baltimore Orioles built their new, old-looking ballpark early in this decade. It is located on the edge of downtown, a mile or so closer to the action than Tiger Stadium, and planners hope that it will lead an era of urban renewal, as the parks in Baltimore, Cleveland, and elsewhere have done. It is, of course, ironic that these new parks seek to recreate the intimacy and uniqueness of the classic old parks like Wrigley Field, Fenway Park, and yes, Tiger Stadium. But the forces motivating the builders are beyond our sense of irony and loss. They feel that they are doing what must be done to save the team. We go along because we love the team and the game.

I was not long for St. Catherine’s. I clipped the articles on the Stompers demise, to be filed at the Hall of Fame Library, and headed on through Ontario. After a pleasant morning’s drive, I pulled into my brother’s home in the northern suburbs, and came in to greet the family. Within an hour, we were headed downtown to “The Corner,” the affectionate nickname for the corner of Michigan and Trumbull Streets, the address of Tiger Stadium. As we entered the ballpark, the late afternoon sun was bathing it in an autumnal glow. It was to be the 6,870th big league game the old park had hosted, and an air of sweetness hung over the place. “Here we go again,” she seemed to sigh, with a mixture of pleasure and weariness.

We were seated that evening in the upper deck in right field, just along the foul line. These are among the most unique seats in baseball, since the first four or five rows of the upper deck actually hang over the field of play. Suspended in mid-air, it is difficult to find a place in the game where one feels more a part of the action. Great seats. Well worth a five hundred mile drive for any true baseball fan. The strange configuration is the result of the fact that a street runs right behind the park, and in order to build a grandstand, some wedging was required. Today’s new ballparks all have crazy twists and angles in the outfield fences. In the 1960s, the so-called “cookie cutter” era of stadium construction, these quirks were thought to be undesirable. There was a feeling in the air that the game should be standardized. Now, the old angles are back, this time not caused by a city’s geometry, by but fans’ nostalgia. Just wanted you to know there was at one point a compelling reason for these unusual fixtures to exist.

The game on the field was interesting, though the Tigers eventually lost by several runs. My brother Jim and his son Joe shared an entire Little Caesar’s pepperoni pizza with me, while reflecting on the odd coincidence that the Tigers two most recent owners had been the men who owned the Little Caesar’s, and before that, Domino’s pizza companies. After the game we watched in amazement as the grounds crew set up a massive fireworks display on four trailers in center field. The fireworks spectacular lasted for a good thirty minutes following the game, and was a great way to usher in a weekend-long celebration of the old ballpark. The next day, we were astonished to find nary a mark on the centerfield grass from the night before.

The next sporting venue I visited, on Saturday morning, was Borden Park, where my eight-year-old niece Alison and her younger brother Joe had back-to-back soccer games. The large suburban program was impressive for several reasons, notably the skill and knowledge level of the young players. Soccer, which once seemed like a boring game of following the fastest guy with the ball to me, can be a beautiful and exciting game when played and coached well. Alison scored a goal as her team won, while that morning Joe’s team went down to defeat. But the next day, Joe and his team came back, with two goals by my nephew. It was exciting stuff, and the perfect prelude to an evening trip to Tiger Stadium for a four p.m. start with ten members of the family present.

Each day of the final series featured unique tributes, and this evening’s was that former Tiger players were stationed at the entrances to greet fans. It was a nice touch, though difficult because of today’s autograph mania. Moving forty thousand people into an antiquated ballpark is difficult enough without each one stopping to ask why they can’t have an autograph. Luckily, there was an autograph booth inside the main concourse, staffed by recent Tiger greats Bill Freehan and Mickey Lolich. My favorite of the running tributes was the “Tiger Names Project.” Each of the 1,316 players in Detroit Tiger history was acknowledged on a video on the centerfield scoreboard, which ran before each game. Both celebrities and average fans had been drafted to read out a player’s name, position, and years of Tiger service. It seems to this reporter that this sort of massive name project began to be fashionable after the construction of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall in Washington, which lists the names of all the service men and women who gave their lives in that war. I really like these sorts of things, both because they are all inclusive, and because they give to the average viewer a sense of the vastness of that which is being honored.

For our family, as we nestled into lower deck seats in the left field corner, it was not a Tiger player who came to mind, but one of the many thousands to have visited Tiger Stadium in a visitor’s uniform. My great-grandfather, Ben Caffyn, played twelve seasons in the minor leagues, and thirty games for the Cleveland Naps of the American League in 1906. Injuries to the Cleveland roster brought Ben up from Des Moines of the Western League during the last week of August. By mid-September, the Naps were in Detroit for a three game series against the Tigers, who featured future Hall-of-Famers Ty Cobb and Sam Crawford. The Cleveland roster featured three Hall-of-Famers-to-be, Addie Joss, Elmer Flick, and their eponymous player-manager, Nap Lajoie.

Bennett Park, the earlier park which stood where Tiger Stadium would be built, was oriented slightly differently than Tiger Stadium. What had been home plate in Bennett Park would become the right field corner in Tiger Stadium. So, our seats in the left field corner of Tiger Stadium were bathed in the same late-summer sun which Ben Caffyn patrolled in September, 1906, as he played left field for all three games. If a ball was hit into the left center gap, our great grandfather would have been after it, right about where we were now sitting. The second-division Tigers won the first two games in exciting, one-run fashion, with the 3rd-place Naps coming back to win the finale. For the record, Caffyn got one single and scored one run in the grand old park, and caught four fly balls out in left.

As the sun set gently, the slight chance of rain held off Saturday night, and the family enjoyed a Tiger victory as the three young children behaved beautifully and enjoyed themselves. Nephew Joe continued to show an intelligent aptitude for the game at age six, following the game with great attention, and learning to keep a scorecard as well. The ballpark was packed again, and the festive mood of Tiger fans continued.

The next day, Sunday, featured a one p.m. start. My brother David and I left for the stadium around ten, and spent a couple of hours wandering the neighborhood and doing a long lap around the stadium before the game. We were met later by dad and David’s wife Kerri and we took extremely sunny seats in the centerfield bleachers and watched the Tigers win again. We sat behind a lady who’d been coming to Tiger Stadium for 67 years, since 1932. The good natured crowd tossed beach balls in the air, chanted, and frequently broke into “The Wave.”

After the game, David and Kerri departed south for Peoria, while dad and I listened to the post-game show on WJR as we headed back out to the suburbs. It was special to hear Tiger pitcher Dave Borkowski, a native of Detroit, talk to venerable broadcaster Ernie Harwell about growing up in Detroit and going to Tiger Stadium as a kid. Also special was Harwell explaining to the fans that tomorrow’s finale for the old Stadium would not, could not be the end for him. He began broadcasting Tiger games 39 years ago, and coined the term “The Corner” to refer to the ballpark at the corner of Michigan and Trumbull. No, Harwell and several other old-timers, including, if I am not mistaken, 1930s Tiger pitching star Eldon Auker, and Jo Gehringer, the lovely widow of Charlie Gehringer, planned to go out to lunch on Tuesday, and then to let themselves into the ballpark in mid-afternoon, take seats near the field, and soak in the sun and the spirits, sounds, memories, and ghosts of the then-silent stadium.

But first, there was a final game to play. Though rain was a possibility, the day dawned bright and clear, and remained so all day and evening. The game was scheduled to start at four p.m., but your reporter was on hand by eleven a.m., to revel in the sun and the atmosphere, which was described as “festive, but sorrowful,” by a reporter on the radio as I approached the stadium. The fans, who love the Tigers and their old stadium, had read all the economic details about replacing Tiger Stadium, and had resigned themselves that an era was ending. During the 1980s, the team repeatedly expressed an interest in a new facility, but for one reason or another, never got it built. There was an active Tiger Stadium Preservation Society, which worked to draw up architectural plans to save and renovate the stadium, and which had a wide membership, published newsletters (available in the Hall of Fame Library), and even twice staged massive Tiger Stadium Hugs, in which a human circle hand-in-hand surrounded the park with both their bodies and their good will.

But the fight was over, the new park was rising a mile away, and today was a day to celebrate the 6,873rd and final game at The Corner. I thought I was arriving early, five hours before game time, but there were ten thousand people already milling around the park, buying souvenirs, taking photos, and sharing stories of Tiger Stadium by the time I got there. The mood among the fans was festive and celebratory, though certainly bittersweet. There were no protests and no unruly behavior. Fan Mike Jeffas, of Warwick, NY, who calls himself the ultimate baseball closer, having attended the final Met Game at the Polo Grounds and then nine other stadium finales, said that instead of a funeral, “This is more like an Irish wake. It’s a celebration of life instead of a death.”

After hanging out for a while outside, I entered the press gate and experienced the distinct pleasure, for the first time, of covering a big-league baseball game. For an hour I walked the concourses and sat in various seats, finding only the company of a few other reporters and many ushers, food service workers (some of whom had been imported from Cleveland’s Jacobs Field for the busy final homestand), and many security personnel. The ballpark slowly came alive, the air became filled with the scent of cooking sausages, hot dogs, and pizza, and the field filled up with media crews and a few players warming up.

On the field before the game, the media mostly took souvenir photos of one another, sitting in the dugouts, standing behind the plate. Smiles were warm among both the veteran Detroit media and the more than 800 other journalists, from as far away as Europe, Japan, and Jerusalem, who’d come to see the old ball park out. Every once in a while, a Tiger player would come out to do an interview, mostly talking with genuine emotion about a park they would remember fondly. Alan Trammell and Cecil Fielder were there, as was Kimera Bartee, a current centerfielder with the team. As the park filled up with fans, Bartee squatted near third base, scooping up dirt. As many other players later would confess they had done, Bartee was filling a few film canisters with souvenir dirt from the playing field. Once he had all he could carry, he walked over to the rail and tossed them to fans, then stayed to sign autographs for a while. It was that kind of day.

Tiger reliever Doug Brocail flew his father Ray in from Colorado to play catch with him. “I just want to play catch with my father on this field before they close the place. Without his help, I wouldn’t be here.”

The pregame ceremony featured speeches by the mayor, the governor, the Tiger management, and the great Al Kaline. Kaline’s memorable speech began with his first visit to the stadium in 1953, as a 19-year-old player recruited straight off the sandlots of Baltimore. The guards refused to let him in, as he looked too young to be the newest Tiger. Now, 46 years later, Kaline spoke eloquently about his love for the ballpark, and how the day’s events had him feeling “humbled and overwhelmed.” He remarked on the place’s “character, charm, and history,” but, sounding the sweetest note of the weekend, a note repeated often by commentators and fans, Kaline noted that it was the family memories that people have of the park which were “the cement” holding the place together. The message was that, win or lose, it was your trips to the old ballpark, with Dad, Mom, your first date, or your own children which would live forever in memory.

Governor John Engler added that, “If there were a Hall of Fame for stadiums, Tiger Stadium would be eligible for immediate entry,” a line which drew great applause. There is an exhibit on ballparks at the Hall of Fame, and Tiger Stadium will be well represented. Hall curators have asked the Tigers for at least two artifacts. First, the signpost from the corner of Michigan and Trumbull. Also, the blue padded panel from the deepest reaches of center field, with the “440” foot distance marker from the plate in white numerals. This piece will be useful in showing fans the shrinking size of big league ballparks over the course of the century. Tiger Stadium was the oldest of big league parks, and its centerfield distance the deepest remaining in 1999 by around thirty feet. The fans want to see home runs, and so the parks continue to shrink.

The first pitch was thrown out by 95-year-old shortstop Billy Rogell, with the club from 1930-39. The oldtimer was clear on his feelings about Tiger Stadium “I hate to see this place go. The first game I played in this park was in 1925. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing wrong with this ballpark.” The lineup cards were brought to the plate by Hall-of-Famers Al Kaline for the Tigers and George Brett for the Royals. Both were in uniform, and both were in fighting trim. I heard Brett in an interview a week or so before the game express his desire to appear in uniform, but say that he was waiting for word from Kaline as to whether he planned to wear the old English D again. The two embraced to a tremendous ovation, 6,161 hits between them.

And then the game was on. Tiger starter Brian Moehler stood on the mound facing centerfield, kneeled down to write his late father Fred’s initials in the dirt, and threw the first pitch. The Royals threatened in the first, but didn’t score. Maybe they weren’t supposed to. It wasn’t in the script. Tiger left fielder Luis Polonia led off the bottom of the first with a monstrous home run to deep left center. This was in the script, and the crowd went wild. The game was tightly played, 2-2 until the bottom of the sixth, when Tiger right fielder Karim Garcia homered to put the home team up by 2. The seventh inning stretch was very celebratory and good natured. The Tigers play an instrumental version of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game,” and throughout the homestand, the fans had sung along with gusto. Today, they spontaneously sang an extra verse. The Tigers were ahead by two with two to go. It looked like the stadium would go out as it came in, with a Tiger victory.

In the bottom of the eighth, the Tigers loaded the bases with nobody out. The place was rocking. Rookie Gabe Kapler hit into a fielder’s choice. Bases still loaded. Fans, if you listen closely, you might hear the soft strains of instrumental music from the soundtrack of “The Natural.” Rookie DH Robert Fick stepped up to the plate. His average was .194 since his recent call-up from the minors, where he’d spent an injury-plagued season. The left-handed Fick waited at the plate. The pitcher threw and before we knew what was happening, the ball was sailing high toward the right field line. Would it stay fair? Yes! It hit the roof of the second deck, the same roof made famous when Reggie Jackson homered into its light towers in the 1971 All-Star Game. The roof which had only let 35 home runs escape since it was built. The Roof! A Grand Slam! A rookie? The flashbulbs were intense as he jogged around the bases. What a fitting end for a grand old ballpark! Hollywood could write this no better!

Rookie Fick would reveal some striking things in the post-game interviews. He’d written his junior-year term paper on “The Natural.” Al Kaline had approached him before the game and said “Make a little history tonight, kid. Hit one out.” Manager Lance Parrish had wanted to pinch-hit for him, in order to ensure that more players would get to play in the finale, but Fick convinced him not to do so. Both he and his manager had a feeling. He was wearing uniform number 25, which had belonged to Tiger first baseman and power hitter Norm Cash. All of the Tigers were wearing the uniform numbers of the Tigers all-time greats at their respective positions. Cash hit four balls onto the roof in his day. Fick dedicated the homer to his late father, Charles, who died last November. Perhaps no stadium ever went out with such a memorable, grand hit. The remainder of the game was academic, as Tigers closer Todd Jones retired the side in order in the ninth, flashbulbs popping to a blinding degree.

The Tigers planned and executed a textbook-perfect closing ceremony. Beloved broadcaster Ernie Harwell was master of ceremonies. With the ‘99 Tigers sprawled on the field in front of the dugout like kids at a fireworks show, more than 65 Tiger greats jogged one by one onto the field and took their old positions, from Billy Rogell to Cecil Fielder. The first through the gate was Mark Fidrych, who scooped dirt from the mound for a souvenir in front of 43,356 fans. Willie Horton, Frank Tanana, Jimmy Outlaw, Reno Bertoia, Jim Bunning, Steve Kemp, Jack Morris, Don Lund, Mickey Lolich, Gates Brown, Chet Lemon, George Kell, and many more jogged out, with Kirk Gibson and the keystone combination of Alan Trammel and Sweet Lou Whitaker coming out together for the finale. These two were teammates longer than any other two ballplayers in history.

After they were all on the field, they formed a living timeline from the center field flagpole to home plate. To the gentle strains of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata,” the Tigers lowered the flag for the last time and passed it all the way down the line. At the end, pitcher Eldon Auker, 1933-1938, passed the flag to current catcher Brad Ausmus., directing him to raise it next year over Comerica Park. The groundskeepers dug up home plate and carted it in a motorcade down one mile to the new park, where the fans watched it installed by three current Tigers. The first to touch the plate at Comerica with their feet were two local little leaguers, Monique and Brian. It was all very well scripted and carried off, but the fans expressed their disapproval with a short but hearty round of boos. They seemed to be saying that today was about Tiger Stadium, not Comerica Park. That’s what the local media in the press box were saying.

Each of the Tiger legends on the field then threw a ball into the stands. And then came the Stadium’s last pitch. George Campbell, great-nephew of Charlie Bennett, the old Tiger catcher (1881-88) after whom Bennett Park was named, threw a ball to Brad Ausmus which will also be used for the first pitch next year. For most of his life, Charlie Bennett caught the first pitch each year at Tiger Stadium.

It was a touching finale, well orchestrated and carried off, and it will be difficult for anyone in attendance to forget it. For many years, ballpark closings have sometimes become dangerous affairs, as fans began tearing the places down after the last pitch. But this did not happen in Detroit. Actually, the stadium belongs not to the ball club but to the city, and plans for its future are not yet agreed upon. It may be torn down, or it may become a city recreational facility. One of the most creative plans calls for its upper deck to be removed, so that it can be restored to what it would have looked like in the early years of Bennett Park, and then for that facility to be used for college and high school baseball. There are ideas to turn it into a health club, condos, or a retail/office space facility. Time will tell. Long time Detroit sportswriter Joe Falls said it best, whatever they do with the facility, “Do it gently.” There is a great love in Detroit for this ballpark, and it was a true thrill to be there for its last hurrah.

Tim Wiles is the Manager of the Research Department at the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum in Cooperstown, NY. This article was reprinted with his permission.

Tony Phillips wore many gloves during his five seasons with the Tigers.

If you had to describe Tony Phillips as something that could fit in your pocket, it would have been a Swiss Army knife.

Few ballplayers in baseball history have been as handy, as capable, as versatile, as Phillips, who played for the Detroit Tigers for five seasons, from 1990 to 1994. To Tiger skipper Sparky Anderson, Phillips was indispensable.

Everything Tony did was useful. He was a switch-hitter, he could play almost every defensive position, and he had no problems bouncing around between those positions. As long as his name was in the lineup, Phillips was happy. Well, sort of happy. He did have a fiery disposition, often tossing bats, glaring at or arguing with umpires, and barking at pitchers who dared to throw the baseball to close to him.

Phillips played second base, shortstop, third base, and the corner outfield positions. In 1992, when neither Milt Cuyler or Gary Pettis could produce enough offensively to secure the center field spot, Phillips filled in there too. Sparky often used Phillips as his designated hitter as well, since he excelled at getting on base in front of the powerful bats of Cecil Fielder, Alan Trammell, Mickey Tettleton, Rob Deer, and Kirk Gibson.

Phillips normally hit leadoff, succeeding Lou Whitaker in that role. If there was one thing “Tony the Tiger” could do, it was draw a base on balls. Peering out at the mound from an exaggerated crouch, Phillips’ eagle eye and postage stamp sized strike zone led to plenty of free passes. In 1993, he coaxed 132 walks, leading the American League. He averaged 104 per season as a Tiger.

Phillips also struck out a lot, especially for a leadoff man – 96 times per year in Detroit. Thus, the Tiger handyman usually failed to put the ball in play about one in every three time he came to the plate. Yet, it was impossible not to watch Phillips. He was a ball of energy, argumentative and prone to dramatic facial expressions. He had what old time baseball observers called “pep”.

With Whitaker and Trammell entering the latter stage of their careers, Phillips found his way into the lineup filling in for the veteran double play combo. Though he was an averaged defender, Phillips was solid everywhere he played. No matter which glove he took into the field, Phillips was a key offensive performer. His best year was 1993 when he hit .313 with a .443 on-base percentage and 113 runs scored. He rarely missed playing time, usually among league leaders in games and plate appearances.

By his final season in Detroit, Phillips had learned to take advantage of Tiger Stadium, belting 19 homers in a strike shortened season. He was no Fielder or Gibson, but Phillips wasn’t a punch-and-judy either.

The Tigers never advanced to the playoffs during Phillips’ tenure with the Tigers, which coincided with Sparky’s exit from Detroit. But little Tony’s career .395 OBP as a Tiger ranks among the best in franchise history.

And for usefulness, it’s hard to top “Tony the Tiger.”

Wade Boggs won a Gold Glove for his play at third base in 1994 and 1995.

Everyone has the right to jeer when they go to a baseball game. Once you buy the ticket, you can scream your lungs out, positive or negative. As long as you keep it fairly clean, you can holler all you want.

I never was much for that, but there was a game at Tiger Stadium when I got carried away. As a result, a future Hall of Famer singled me out. I had no idea that years later I’d meet him when I worked for the National Baseball Hall of Fame and he was inducted in 2005.

It was the late 1980s and the Boston Red Sox were in Detroit to face the Tigers. A few school buddies and I got tickets for the weekend series. We were seated directly behind   the home dugout on the third base side for Friday’s game. We consumed more than a few cups of beer and by the early innings we were full of liquid courage.

That’s when Red Sox third baseman Wade Boggs booted a routine groundball, leading to two runs for my Tigers. It was a dreadful miscue, the sort you’d expect to see on a Little League field, not in a big league park. I proceeded to bombard Boggs with my very specific opinions on his defensive play. I felt it was my duty to point out how overrated the Red Sox star was.

With five batting titles to his credit, I couldn’t tease Boggs about his hitting, but his defensive play was fair game.

“WHAT’S THE MATTER BOGGS? TOO HARD FOR YOU TO BEND OVER FOR THAT BALL?”

So proud of my rant, I repeated it (and other anti-Boggs invective) for the next four innings. By the 8th, with the Tigers in control of the game, Boggs turned his attention toward me. He looked over at our section between pitches, cupping his glove hand in front of his face, glaring at me. He saw it was me who was hounding me. Obviously, he wasn’t impressed.

Egged on, I continued to hurl insults at Boggs, earning the attention of most of the spectators seated near us. Boggs kept learing over, giving me a look that could have stopped a Nolan Ryan fastball. I was proud. It was stupid, but I was proud.

Fast forward about 15 years, I’m working in Cooperstown at the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Boggs and Ryne Sandberg are both being inducted into the Hall. Each Hall of Fame inductee is treated like a king during their special weekend in Cooperstown. As the web producer for the Hall of Fame, I was afforded a behind-the-scenes view of the festivities: covering events, snapping photos, conducting interviews, updating the web site.

There’s a special dinner that weekend for Hall of Famers only. No spouses, family members, agents, girlfriends, no one else is allowed. The president of the Hall of Fame is the only other person allowed to be in the dining room. Except for the official photographer, and for this one time – me. I was only in the dining room for about 15 minutes, but I got to see the special camaraderie between the Hall of Fame legends. There was Johnny Bench toasting and roasting the new inductees; there was Tom Seaver and Steve Carlton arguing over which one of them had brought the better bottle of wine; there was Willie Mays (WILLIE MAYS!) chatting with Hank Aaron and Frank Robinson in what I imagined to be the greatest dream outfield in National League history.

In the middle of it all were Boggs and Sandberg, both rookies one last time. Boggs pushed his chair over to that of Stan Musial, the seven-time batting champion, St. Louis Cardinal legend, and one of baseball’s finest gentleman. Musial was one of Boggs’ heroes. Now, Boggs was Musial’s peer. I was standing across from that table as Boggs talked with “Stan the Man”. Boggs sheepishly asked to have his photo taken with Musial. Milo Stewart Jr., the fine Hall of Fame photographer, arranged the shot as I peered over his shoulder to snap one as well. Boggs beamed. He looked like the happiest man in the world. When Milo was finished, Boggs shook Musial’s hand and draped his arm over the shoulder of the Hall of Fame outfielder. Then the new inductee stood up to visit other legends as a tear ran down his cheek.

Who knew? Wade Boggs was a sentimental man. Instantly I remembered the night at old Tiger Stadium when I’d mercilessly heckled him after his error. I’d seen seen genuine emotion from Boggs, and it confirmed for me just how special baseball is.

But damn, he still should have made that play.

Former Tiger slugger Cecil Fielder visits his son prince in the Brewer dugout.

Big Daddy’s little boy is back in town, and he’s all grown up.

Fresh from signing a nine-year free agent deal worth more than $200 million, Prince Fielder was introduced to Detroit by the Tigers today. But in many ways, an introduction was unnecessary.

Years ago, Fielder’s father, Cecil (Big Daddy) enjoyed the best years of his career in Detroit, leading the big leagues in runs batted in for three straight seasons, while also launching mammoth home runs. In 1990 he belted 51 for Sparky Anderson’s team.

Prince isn’t expected to hit 50 homers (though he did once), but 40+ and 100+ RBI a year will do just fine. The younger Fielder (Little Daddy?) is a superior ballplayer than his father. He hits for a higher average, makes better contact, uses the entire field offensively, and is better defensively. As recently as last season he helped lead the Milwaukee Brewers to the post-season.

Fielder will be expected to protect Miguel Cabrera, the reigning American League batting champion, in the Tiger lineup. With Victor Martinez out for the 2012 season with an injury, Prince’s arrival more than fills a huge hole, it piles it over.

If anyone ever questioned Mike Ilitch’s desire to win a World Series with his Tigers, they shouldn’t any longer. The 82-year old Tiger owner got involved personally with the negotiations to acquire Fielder. And why shouldn’t he? Ilitch has known Prince since he was a teenager hanging around the clubhouse at Tiger Stadium. Even at a young age, Prince looked like he could step into the lineup and launch homers into the grandstands. Now, as a seasoned major league superstar, he’ll be expected to do that for Mr. Ilitch.

Tiger fans are understandably excited about Prince’s arrival, especially coming off the success of the 2011 season, which produced the first division title for the Tigers since 1987. But there are some reasons to be cautious about the signing.

Fielder is in the prime of his career; he’ll be just 27 years old on opening day. But a nine-year deal is a risk that few teams have ever taken, let alone the normally conservative Tigers. By the time he’s in the back end of the contract, Fielder will be 34. Given his size (he’s just as big and packs just as many pounds as did his Papa), Prince’s ability to stay healthy and productive throughout the contract is questionable. But in his favor, Prince has been remarkably durable thus far. In his six full seasons, he’s never missed more than five games.

The Tiger lineup looks much better and hearts can rest a little easier in Tigerland now that Cabrera has a partner in crime with the bat. The righty-lefty duo is easily the most fearsome in the game. Both players are patient with power, Cabby from the right side and Prince from the left.

Fielder will take over at first base, with Cabrera moving over to third base, a position he’s played before, though modestly with the glove. Each will probably get some time at DH, as well. Regardless, the duo will be the big wheels in the Tiger lineup in 2012 and beyond.

For that, the future looks bright for the Tigers. Detroit is happy to welcome home a boy who has grown into a man.

When Cochrane arrived in Detroit prior to the 1934 season, he brought an air of respectability with him.

We know of him as “Mickey” or “Black Mike,” but his real name was Gordon Stanley Cochrane.  He was born 108 years ago in Bridgewater, Massachusetts in the spring of 1903 to Scottish immigrant parents.

For Detroit Tigers fans, however, his life began in 1934 when owner Frank Navin was unable to acquire Babe Ruth in the off-season and instead brought Cochrane onboard to serve as player-manager.  The Tigers traded Johnny Pasek and $100,000 to the Philadelphia Athletics to acquire him.

Cochrane was a fiery ballplayer and a fabulous catcher.  He proved to be the missing ingredient the Tigers needed to bring a championship to Detroit.  Cochrane led the Tigers to two consecutive World Series appearances — and their first World Championship in 1935.

Many Tigers historians consider the 1934 Detroit Tigers to be the best team the franchise ever fielded.  Cochrane joined forces with Hank Greenberg, Charlie Gehringer, Billy Rogell, Goose Goslin, Schoolboy Rowe, Tommy Bridges and Elden Auker that year to compile a 101-53 regular season record which still stands as the team’s all-time best winning percentage at .656.

Unfortunately, the St. Louis Cardinals’ Gas House Gang defeated the Tigers in seven games in the World Series.  Cochrane won the American League’s Most Valuable Player award in 1934 by batting .320 with a .428 on base percentage, 76 RBIs, and 32 doubles.  He was the first catcher to be named the American League MVP.

The very next season, the Tigers were back at it in the post season — this time against the Chicago Cubs.  The Tigers limped through the season at times and almost lost the pennant to the New York Yankees as the season came to an end.  But they clung to a three game lead that gave them their second American League Pennant in a row.

The Cubs, on the other hand, were red hot when the 1935 World Series began.  The team won an amazing 21 games in a row during the month of September.  Every indication was that the Cubs were going to steam roll the ailing Tigers who ended the season by losing 6 of their last 7 games.  Momentum was definitely on the side of the Cubs.

After losing Game 1 to the Cubbies,  Hank Greenberg suffered a broken wrist in Game 2 and missed the remainder of the Series.  Detroit won the game, but it looked as though fate, once again, was working against the Tigers.

Even without Greenberg, the Tigers continued to battle against Chicago.  The Series ended at Detroit’s Navin Field on October 7 in the sixth and deciding game.  Fittingly, it was Mickey Cochrane who crossed the plate in the ninth inning to score the winning run that gave Detroit its first World Championship since the Detroit Wolverines held the title in 1887.

What Cochrane gave to Detroit was a much-needed emotional lift as the population suffered through the Great Depression.  As a result of his effort, many Detroiters think of the 1930s as a golden age despite the economic woes that plagued them.  To this day, Detroit owes a tremendous debt of gratitude to “Black Mike” and the roaring Tigers of the 1930s.

Owner Mike Ilitch and GM Dave Dombrowski have shown they aren't afraid to spend money to make the Tigers competitive.

The news of the Tigers signing Prince Fielder on Tuesday was … well, it was mind-boggling, stunning, almost too much to comprehend.

If it had happened in New York, Los Angeles, maybe Boston, it might have made sense or seemed understandable. A Detroit Tiger signing to make $23.78 million a year to play baseball? The Detroit Tigers paying a guy $23.78 million a year to play baseball?

Where have you gone, Rusty Kuntz?

Detroit is the baseball hometown of Ty Cobb, arguably the greatest ballplayer of all-time (and considered almost unanimously to be so during the first half of the last century). But it is more familiar to area baseball fanatics as the proud franchise that produced Al Kaline, praised by locals as the nearly-perfect human who roamed the right field grass of Tiger Stadium like a lord patrolling his estate.

There are no stories in local lore of Kaline muffing a play, or making even one clumsy move during his 22-year reign at Michigan and Trumbull. Yet what mattered more to Detroiters — and what continues to this day to constitute the bulwark of the affection in which he is held — was the perception of Al Kaline as a great man, a modest and selfless example of a great modern hero. Like Gordie Howe, Kaline’s hockey contemporary who also maintains almost a spiritual grasp on the soul of our town, it was the human qualities of #6 and #9 that have meant the most to the minds and hearts of local fans.

Part of the legacy of Al Kaline — and a story that resounds with even more impact and irony on the heels of the Fielder signing — is the legend of Kaline, the longtime local king of his sport, refusing to accept $100,000 a year to play for the Tigers in the early 1970s, near the end of his Detroit career. Some locals under 40 may not be familiar with the tale — though I would bet many have heard of it, knowing how baseball lore is handed from generation to generation in Detroit — of Kaline rejecting a raise in his own salary. The story has been handed down in two forms — one, that Kaline felt no player was worth that much money just for playing baseball; secondly, that he had a ‘down’ year the previous season and was refusing a ten grand raise to $100,000 by a Tiger organization that felt he was worth that then-magical figure.

I have to state, in the interest of honesty, that I don’t know if either story is true, or if both are apocryphal. I have never heard the basis of the story denied — that Al refused the figure — but Kaline has rarely been a player or man to talk of his private life or personal dealings. If he did refuse the payment as being too high, more power to him … but Mickey Mantle had reportedly been making $100,000 a year since 1963. I do know, from a very limited amount of personal dealings, that Al can be very careful with a buck, and I find it hard to imagine he would deny his young family the extra $10,000 that the Tiger organization wished to add to his $90,000 pay in the early ‘70s.

Kaline had played two decades’ worth of hard quality baseball for the Tigers, and was certainly worthy of much more than even the controversial $100,000 that was discussed back then. He had one ‘off’ year — in 1973, the year before he finished his career in 1974. He may have, back then, remarked that he felt unworthy of $100,000 after a disappointing season at age 37, but I would still have doubts that he outright rejected the Tigers offer.

Certainly Kaline’s teammates believed that he had. Pitcher Denny McLain, that avatar of selfless team play, has criticized Kaline for effectively helping management hold down player salaries by refusing to accept the 100 Gs back then. Ironically, Kaline’s onetime business partner, Gordie Howe, was resented by some NHL players for similarly depressing hockey contracts by refusing to demand top dollar when he was the top player in his sport in his day. (Howe was shocked in 1969 to discover that he wasn’t even the highest paid player on the Red Wings’ roster; when the millionaire team owner, playboy Bruce Norris, finally caved and signed a Howe contract worth $100,000 in 1970, he shoved the document across his desk to Gordie with the surly remark, “Here … I hope this will make your wife happy.”)

Whatever the facts in either case, and I confess that my knowledge of the Kaline situation is second-hand and hearsay at best, the examples of Al Kaline, and Gordie Howe … and the history of their service to our community and their places in local hearts … are in no way diminished, or degraded, by the Fielder announcement.

The free-agent first baseman signed a nine-year deal worth $214 million … working out to a cool $23.78 million a year. Fielder is only 27 years old, and has averaged 40 homers and 113 RBIs over the past five seasons. Baseball veteran and ESPN commentator John Kruk calls Fielder the best free agent signing of this off-season, a “high energy guy” worth more to the Tigers than Albert Pujols will be to his new team, the Los Angeles Angels. And speaking of ESPN, the jerks there were already leading off their hourly news updates overnight Tuesday with the headline … “Are the Tigers a lock for the 2012 World Series?” Oh yeah, right … fer sure.

The numbers dazzle. The prospects are enticing. If Al Kaline is silently bemoaning the year of his birth (and he is estimated to have made a little over $1 million in his 22 years of play) it is very understandable.

What remains untouched is #6’s place in our hearts, and his everlasting high and holy regard among the legions that hold the olde English D among the sacred symbols of our lives. May Prince Fielder, under the ever-watchful and supportive eye of Al Kaline, attain his own piece of Tiger immortality. And may we all take part in the celebration of a new Detroit Tigers legend … one that will announce itself with the first flicks of the bat this April … one that began with a few flicks of the pen this January of 2012.

Nine years. $214 million. Almost $24 million per season.

And where have you gone, Coot Veal?