Game 18 of 22+
Summary:
Score: Toronto 7 Detroit 4
Temperature: 65o
Attendance: 26,430
Winner of the Dunkin' Donuts Race: No Donut Race! Can you imagine?
It is Saturday, September 30 and I am writing this, the entry for Wednesday’s game, while standing in a rainy corridor in Comerica waiting for the rain to stop. I think I’ve been delaying writing this entry because I’m not sure what to say about it. It’s not that there’s nothing to say about Wednesday’s game but I’m not sure how to say it. Baseball, I am realizing, can be a beautiful, elegant game but, as Wednesday night’s game showed, it can also be awkward and clunky. Wednesday’s game was not the prettiest I’ve seen and I am wondering if one can say things like this and still be a fan. Fanhood, I realized, has snuck up on me and I find myself attempting to navigate its terrain. Is a fan obligated to look the other way at times like these or can a fan be honest and frank? Can a fan say to her team, as I overheard a woman say to a man last week, “no, I’m not mad at you. I’m just disappointed. That’s all.”
The Tigers are losing their lead and every inning is starting to matter. Wednesday’s game was not pretty. In fact, Wednesday’s game was darned depressing. The Blue Jays made the Tigers look like the Tigers of a few years ago. The stands cleared out and conversations around us had nothing to do with baseball. The women behind us spent 20 minutes describing every perm they’ve ever had: “and then, in 1987, I had one that…” Three people in their early twenties behind us debated whether the cheapest fertilizer you could get at Home Depot was made from sheep and cow manure or from Detroit area raw sewage. It occurred to me—as it has a number of times this season—that often people are only interested in their teams when they’re winning. I was reminded of what games at Comerica used to be like: missed opportunities, glimmers of promise, and hopes dashed. I’m wondering if I’m allowed to worry about my team in the next few weeks. Will all of our hopes be dashed in the next few games?
Wednesday’s game was pretty hard to watch and I found myself blocking out the fertilizer debates and perm chats to think about our time at this park over the past 6 years. I remember our first games here and think I would have been surprised if I’d known 6 years ago how attached to this park I would become. We got to the park pretty early on Wednesday and walked around the park for a while. I walked as close to centerfield as I could get. I saw the little patch of grass that Curtis treads
and looked at home plate from his vantage point. I saw exactly what he was talking about in an interview when he said, “playing day games here is very difficult as well because the view we have behind home plate for some reason isn’t the best. You have a slight opening that you can see the street level so you have a contrast of dark and light. The early part of the season when there were fewer fans behind home plate, the tabs [silver baseballs] that signify what seat you’re in, if there’s no one sitting to block those, it looks like a million baseballs coming at you at one time.” It was pretty cool to see things from his vantage point and I realized how much I’ve learned from having a favourite player this season. Baseball has become more emotional and personal than I’d imagined it could be. I’ve learned so much cheering for Curtis and watching the game through one player. I am wet and cold and tired and the rain is showing no signs of letting up. Dale notices that I am cold and wet and tired and asks if I want to leave. I see people heading to the exits and realize that cold, rain and fatigue aren’t enough to send me home. I want to see my team play tonight. These are my Tigers. I’m here for them.
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