<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
0210010247
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
021001
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Tuesday, October 01, 2002
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT; SPORTS
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1E
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM FREE PRESS COLUMNIST
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 2002, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
A MANAGER EXITS AND NO ONE CARES
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
On Sunday, as thousands of football fans made their way to Ford Field, they
stopped to look at Comerica Park. Some peered inside. Some studied the iron
work. All seemed to smile and nod, proud of this little architectural corner
of our city.

But there was no team playing inside. And here's the really bad news:

It didn't make a difference.

Detroit has become a stadium town rather than a baseball town. Our best
attribute is bricks and grass. The team isn't worth your attention.

So the news Monday that the Tigers fired their manager, Luis Pujols, barely
inspired a yawn. What else are you going to do with a manager who loses 100
games? Make him president?

Pujols' embarrassing record gets lopped onto the 0-6 that Phil Garner started
the season with -- before getting canned in the opening week -- making for a
grand total of 55-106, or nearly twice as many defeats as victories.

In addition to those stellar numbers, we had a team that led the American
League in errors, had the league's fewest runs, had players dropping balls
they ought to catch, missing pitches they ought to hit, and a front office
that shipped its most promising arm to the team that needed it least, the
Yankees. Players revolted in the media, the team president ripped his squad in
a not-so-private luncheon, and virtually every player who escaped this mess
sounded like the guy who washes up on shore after a jailbreak from Alcatraz.

Last week, the Tigers actually surrendered three runs in one inning with no
hits -- just three walks and two errors.

In August, they batted out of order.

I still haven't given you the really bad news.

"Will you be signing major free agents in the off-season?" someone asked
Tigers president and general manager Dave Dombrowski at Monday's news
conference.

"No," he said, "I'm more interested in trying to get our foundation fixed."

You can jump out the window now.



Baseball without Ernie

Foundation? Where? What? Who? The great farm system? The nine promising
youngsters? This franchise has been so upside down, you don't even know where
the floor is. But you do know this: In today's game, if you try to grow your
team from seeds, you're going to be staring at the ground for a long time. The
Yankees had to sign Jason Giambi in the off-season just to stay abreast -- and
they already had the best roster.

Which means the Tigers, and their nickel-watching ways, don't plan on being
competitive any time soon. And if they can't compete, who's going to watch?
It's not like this just started. They haven't been to the playoffs in 15
years, the World Series in 18 years -- heck, they haven't had a winning season
in nearly a decade.

The continuing ineptitude has melted what used to be a fierce and massive
enthusiasm for baseball into a sad, small devoted group of followers, who wait
each spring for Ernie Harwell's voice to jump-start the season.

Of course, Ernie is gone now, too.

I have, however, finally figured something out. Ernie began every year with a
Biblical quote about "the voice of the turtle." And in studying Tigers
management, I now realize why he chose that animal.



A voice from the past

"I'm not going to place the blame on anybody," Dombrowski said. "We all share
in it equally. . . . We don't have a good club. We need to build it back."

Without buying players, he can forget that. But for putting people in the
seats, the Tigers could do worse than hiring Alan Trammell, who is the San
Diego Padres' first-base coach. I have no idea if Trammell can manage. Neither
does anyone else, since being a first-base coach is more about telling a guy
to steal second than it is deciding on a pitching staff.

But Trammell at least makes people feel good. He is a face from a time when
baseball actually counted around here. More than anything, the Tigers need to
rekindle that.

I travel regularly to New York. I read the newspapers there. I talk to fans on
the street. You hear them arguing over who should be batting cleanup for the
Yankees or Mets, who's better out of the bullpen, whether this guy should DH
or that guy should play the field. And you realize we haven't heard those
discussions in this city in a long, long time.

They fired the manager Monday -- and people were still talking about the
Lions. That should worry the Tigers. Baseball shouldn't be some museum you
pass on the way to a football game.



Contact MITCH ALBOM at 313-223-4581 or  albom@freepress.com. Catch "The Mitch
Albom Show" 3-6 p.m. weekdays on WJR-AM (760). Also catch "Monday Sports
Albom" 7-8 p.m. Mondays on WJR.
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>
THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE.
</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
COLUMN;LUIS PUJOLS
</KEYWORDS>
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