Let me show you what is probably the only defining baseball moment for Detroiters—surely my generation of Detroiters—to come out of the mid to late 90’s:
If you can look past the fact that Frank Beckmann was a part of this, it’s a pretty incredible moment. The scene is the last game ever to be played at historically legendary Tiger Stadium. One of the only bright spots in a dismal baseball future, Robert Fick, steps up to the plate with the bases loaded. With one swing of the bat, Fick immortalizes himself in baseball history, hitting a grand slam off of the roof—the ultimate send off to every Michigander’s favorite sports venue. He’s wearing Norm Cash’s number, and Frank reminds us that … Read More… →
I’ve often wondered about the emotional hitching post that is a ballpark. And when anyone says “ballpark” we all know that it’s not referring to any other sports field besides baseball.
I only live a few miles from five little league fields that I spent five summers of my childhood praying that the ball wouldn’t be hit to me in right field. (That, of course, was in the final two innings, when the coach decided it was safe to take me off the scorebook.) After a brief try at second base where I smoothly fielded a grounder and sent it sailing … Read More… →