Baseball cannot be talked about,
without recognizing the baseball fan. Picture the classic scenario of the
little boy who wants to be a profession ball player when he grows up. He stands
in the backyard, ball in one hand, bat in the other. He tosses the ball up to
himself, grabs the bat with two hands, and swings for the fences. The whole
time he is narrating the game to himself until finally, “the crowd goes wild!”
as the ball he hits has just sailed over his backyard fence. Al Filreis writes
in his chapter “The baseball fan,” “Thus cut form the squad, denied a uniform,
he became a fan without illusions, and he now finally required an aesthetic by
analogy. Like every baseball fan, he turns away from a literal form of
engagement and must learn to care differently.” Those little boys who get to
grow up to be professional baseball players are less than one percent.
Most baseball fans don’t grow up to
be baseball fans, but instead, have been for most of their lives, which is true
for a lot of Tigers fans that remember what it was like watching games in the
old Tigers Stadium. Mike Thomas is one of those fans: “This was the ballpark
where I've got a lot of memories. I can remember a lot of particular games with
family and friends. And now I get to bring my 9-year-old daughter out here.”
Thomas gets to bring his daughter to old Tigers Stadium because after the
stadium was torn down, the field was left behind, on the same property, the
original flagpole standing, as Jim Caple tells us in his article. But as Caple
also tells us, it’s not because of the Tigers’ organization that the field
remains so well kept, but because of fans. And I agree with Caple when he says
it’s a shame that the same fans that volunteer their time to take care of the
field are the only ones celebrating, or even recognizing, the 100-year
anniversary.
Caple says in his article, “Peter
Comstock Riley of the Tiger Stadium Historical Society said the Tigers simply
don't care about their old home, or about preserving it.” Sure, maybe the
Tigers have more important things to be worrying about than preserving their
old stadium, especially when their new stadium pays its respects to the old
stadium in a number of ways. But what about the opportunity the Tigers have
here to give back ot their fans. Riley says of the unrecognized anniversary,
"Even to me, somebody who has been watching this play out for a long time,
I can't say I'm the least surprised. It's a shame and hurtful to those who
still remain and everyone who remembers what used to be." Riley can’t
possibly be the only fan who has countless memories in the old stadium, who
would love to celebrate those memories on such a milestone day.
Fred Stein talks about the fan as
“the least publicized or recognized figure in baseball” (qtd. by Filreis), and
I think this instance points to that. Sure, maybe there isn’t much that the
organization can gain from putting money into celebrating this old field, but
in a sport where history is so much a part of the game, it’s incredibly surprising
and feels so wrong on some level. I’m with Caple and Riley on this one. Take
the players back to the field and remind them, “This is where is started.” Help
to preserve the history! “Do the right thing, Tigers. Help preserve the
memories,” as Caple says. “Send over a groundskeeper or two so the work isn't
totally left to volunteers. This field was your home. Help keep it alive so
more generations can appreciate it.” If not for your own players, for your
organization, then do it for your community, for your fans! Keep the field alive for the little boys in Detroit who want to run around those bases, and dream of growing up to be professional ball players, playing in new Tigers Stadium.