So That Was Saturday

I don’t wake up early on Saturdays anymore. Ever since the cartoons turned into gelatinous blobs, I have had very little interest in rising early.  At this point in my life, only a handful of things will get me up:

1. If someone crashed the night before, I’ll wake up to kick ‘em out.

2. A nostalgia marathon of Batman the Animated Series is on.

3. Famous French Toast

and last, but not least……..

4. Red Wings Hockey

Now I know what you’re saying. “Hey Jay! This is a baseball blog! Why are you talking Wings Hockey?”

Well don’t tag me out yet, there’s a reason.

So this past Saturday I was up to watch the Wings host the Blackhawks at the Joe. It was an emotional game because it would determine our first round opponent. We would either face the stacked Nashville Predators or some west coast team from the pacific division. SO HELP ME if we have to play another west coast first rounder. So this game was grueling. We looked awful, we weren’t skating, and to make matters worse, I didn’t have any milk for my cheerios. Needless to say, things were looking grim.

However, with just seconds left in the 3^rd trailing by a goal, a man often credited with practicing the art of witchcraft on the ice scores the tying goal. Holy Mackerel!

I’m now ecstatic, and I’m thinking we can really win this game now.

But alas, after the late game heroics, some exciting chances in OT, and an attempted shootout deke that, if successful, would have been the equivalent of Neo falling backwards to dodge the Agents bullets, The Wings fell to the Hawks. Feeling dejected and hungry, I made a rash decision.  I decided to do something that I had yet to do in my life.

I decided to just go to a Tigers game. 

It was a rare day off, I had the means and I just wanted to get my mind off of hockey. I didn’t think I’d be able to get another chance so early in the season so BAM I’m going to a baseball game.

I made my pilgrimage downtown via I-75, and I arrived to the parking structure. It was a nice day so instead of a shuttle, I walked. Since I parked near Campus Martius, I had a bit of a stroll. I walked past the buildings, noticing what once was. Seeing the city in this way wasn’t something I’d seen too often. I have lived here for 10+ years and yet downtown was still new. I walked and saw how much this city could use a boost. While it may not have been the coldest winter, it was still cold for the city.

I was lamenting this when suddenly, there’s this sound. A familiar sound that meant the turn of the season is here. I walked faster as the sound echoed through the city. I crossed the street and found myself at the corner of Adams and Witherell.

I had arrived where the boys of summer play their grand game. I felt a grin cross my face as I walked past Gate B towards the ticket booth. “Let’s see what’s inside” I wonder to myself. I walk up to the booth and see if there’s anything on the first row of the upper deck.  I get a single club seat in 4^th row in 327 and head for the concourse.

I cross the threshold of the main gate and step into a buzzing concourse. I make my way through the crowd to stop for a moment to watch the game from the SRO. Everyone is fixated on this game, something that I relish seeing. I’m glad Detroit is a sports town where the games aren’t a “Scene” to be seen at. You’re there for the game, that’s all.

The side is retired and I head for the escalator. Very seldom have I sat in the upper deck so it’s a bit of a new experience heading up there. Looking very much like a tourist, I milled about staring down at my ticket then back up to see the section numbers. I arrived at my section and was greeted with a sight that left me speechless. You gotta be kidding me…….

I had everything in front of me. A great angle still close to the game, concession stands only feet away and perhaps most importantly, I was right near the restrooms. Not that I have an overactive bladder mind you. But in the sports fan realm, that’s like hitting the powerball a day after you hit the powerball.

I sat with my hotdog, pretzel and brew ready for some baseball. Then it happens.

Doug Fister pulls something and leaves the game. “Great job Jay, you brought the Red Wings losing funk with you to the ball park. How thoughtful.” I even started to panic a little, actually thinking everyone around me knew it was my fault he left the game. However, Below came in and shut down the inning. Phew, my stay of execution. For a moment I think about the Wings loss and think, “Really? That’s what it’s gonna come to? Everything I watch turns to crud?”

And just as that thought came to mind, it happens.

Prince Fielder was batting and the Tigers were leading comfortably. There was no pressure to do anything. And it’s that gift of relief that tends to make special things happens. And with that, Fielder hit his first homer as a Tiger at COPA. It just kept going higher and higher, Jackie Wilson would be proud. It sailed out and the place went berserk. “Well,” I said. “That F*****g rocked.” Later on he would another one, this time a no doubter to right. Man, the sound the ball made when it left his bat. If you listened closely you could hear the ball echo the sentiments of one William Wallace.

FREEEEEEEEEDDDDOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!!!

Tigers Baseball is here kids. We shut out the Bosox and went on to sweep them in walk off fashion. This team looks unreal and I got to see it with my own eyes. So if there’s anything I want to impart on you good people, it’s this:

If you get the gut feeling to go to a game, JUST DO IT.

I’m not saying great things will happen every time. But hey, it’s Baseball, funnier things have happened. I’m looking at you, Mr. end-of-regular-season-last-year.

So that was Saturday.