Spring pilgrimage: Play ball!

By Sudsy Cheroot
Sun sports guru

“For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
the flowers appear on the earth;
the time of the singing of birds is come,
and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.”

For many years, legendary Detroit Tigers radio announcer Ernie Harwell used this biblical quote from The Song of Solomon to open his opening day radio broadcast at Tiger Stadium. Opening Day! Are there better words spoken for a Tiger fan? I think not.

My best buddy Jack Lane and I guesstimate that we have attended approximately 15-20 Tiger openers together. The last few years our “priorities might have interfered,” so when I called Jack in early March and mentioned the word “pilgrimage,” he knew it was time.

“We have to do this, Timmy,” he replied.

We decided to drive down to Motown the night before the Tigers’ home opener against the Cleveland Indians, on Friday, April 9, and were delighted when our Priceline.com hotel bid got us a room at the Westin Book Cadillac. This historic hotel, which has housed all the pro sports teams on their trips to Detroit, was closed for years and recently underwent a $200 million renovation before reopening. Our illustrious Tigers’ manager Jim Leyland calls the Book Cadillac his home during the season.

On the ride down, Jack and I spent four glorious hours together sharing Tigers memories and opening day stories — snowstorms, side trips to Windsor, Larry Herndon’s bomb to the 440 mark in centerfield … time flew by. We spent a little time talking poker, as I was to make my debut on the Texas Hold ‘Em table at the Greektown Casino that evening.

We checked into the hotel and delighted at its beauty and opulence. We had bid $120 a night and were informed that the normal rate is $279. What a steal — especially considering that hockey’s Frozen Four tournament was also to be played at Ford Field that weekend. Jack and I walked next door to Fishbones, the adjoining restaurant, and ran into Rick Porcello, Detroit’s opening-day pitcher. We were amazed at how young the 21-year-old looked. A good omen!

After a late night at the casino we headed down to Comerica Park in the morning. There are countless reasons to get to the ballpark early: scalping tickets (we had none), parking, breakfast, and soaking up the incredible sights and sounds of the masses of Tiger fans on hand for this rite of spring. Not to mention that on this day we had a more transcendent reason — we were going to visit an old friend. Jack and I headed to the corner of Michigan and Trumbull for our old Tiger Stadium. Alas, it was all gone.

The park where Al Kaline and Alan Trammell once played was now just a rock-strewn vacant lot like hundreds in downtrodden, downtown Detroit. The emptiness reminded me a little of visiting the Ground in Zero in New York City. But our mood brightened immediately once we saw tailgaters in the lot behind Brooks Lumber and a long line waiting to enter the famous landmark bar/restaurant Hoot Robinson’s. Tiger Stadium may have died, but life springs eternal.

We headed back to Comerica, where the Tigers currently play baseball, for what turned out to be our biggest challenge — scalping tickets. Fear not. Jack and I are pros at this, having bargained our way into everything from World Series games, to Super Bowls, to Jimmy Buffett concerts (though parrot heads are crazy). With a game day temperature of 39 degrees we thought this would be easy.

Uho! We quickly encountered a seller’s market with very few tickets available, and an asking price of $150 for a single box seat (a $40 face-value ticket). We made a couple offers of $100 for two tickets and got laughed at (this wasn’t the first time). … Half an hour before game time found us still empty-handed. So I went into desperation mode and started wading through drunken tailgater lots, yelling into the backs of Sport Utility Vehicles and motor homes. Within minutes a guy yelled at a friend, who had a friend, and I bought two standing-room-only tickets for $20 apiece.

I worried that these might be (bogus) e-tickets, but we made it into the ballpark a good 10 minutes before the first pitch. Jack immediately spotted some empty box seats behind first base, and his usual intuition and expertise identified those as “our seats”. He was right. No one bothered us the whole game. A new opening-day record crowd of over 45,000 rose for the National Anthem, and we two happy kids at the ballpark.

Our observations from the game:

• It was 39 degrees at 1:07 p.m. for the first pitch. It never got past 40 degrees and the biggest cheers erupted when the sun made two brief appearances.

• Hot dogs were $5 and tasted better than a $40 filet mignon.

• We sat next to an old man keeping score of every play and every pitch. He said he’d been to over 50 opening-day games, and that he had been there for five different new stadiums for first games.

• Tom Brookens, our former third basemen, is our new first base coach. Jack mentioned that he had a twin brother named Tim, and I said that he played for the Tigers. Jack was not sure, so between innings I ran up to the concourse to the “Teams of the Decade” area and read that, yes, Tim Brookens had played for the Tigers.

• One of my missions was to look for Mike and Diane Sheridan, our Glen Arbor friends who buy mini-season ticket packages and who I knew would be there. Within five minutes of looking through that mass of over 45,000 fans I found them on the concourse and exchanged pleasantries. Over the years I have seen plenty of games with Mike. Glen Arbor Sun readers should know that our 60-year-old designated hitter/catcher/first baseman batted over .500 on our Cedar slow-pitch softball team last summer.

• Porcello pitched well, and we beat the Indians 5-2, mainly on the strength of a throwing error that gave us two runs. Our new closer, “Papa Grande” a la Jose Valverde, closed out the game, and we all left happy and warm on the inside, though frozen on the outside.

• I shook hands and offered a prayer to the Ernie Harwell statue on the way out of Comerica Park. Many of you know that Ernie is terminally ill, but his emotional rendition of The Song of Solomon quote, “Voice of the turtle” whispered in my ears and tugged at my heart as I completed my opening-day pilgrimage. Go Tigers!