8701020264
DETROIT FREE PRESS
870109
Friday, January 09, 1987
METRO FINAL
1D
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1987, Detroit Free Press
GET USED TO IT RIGHT NOW: A PROUD TIGER IS GONE
Money talks. Lance Parrish walks.
Did you really expect him to be a Detroit Tiger this morning? Why? Because
the others who had threatened to leave had all come back?
Not this time. Midnight came and midnight went and there were no phone
calls, no salvation, no surprises. The news was no news.
No Lance Parrish.
Get used to it now. No Lance Parrish. There should have more commotion.
Some walls crumbling. An explosion at Michigan and Trumbull.
Instead, an occasional car drove past a dark Tiger Stadium and the
billboard that bears Parrish's face, while the man himself was secluded in
California with his phone off the hook.
Money talks, Parrish walks. The catcher felt he deserved more than the
Tigers' two-year, $2.4 million offer (second year not guaranteed). No doubt
this morning, many agree with him.
Too late now. The Tigers brass, who have been doing this longer than any
of us, obviously felt he wasn't worth what he wanted. Today we'll begin to see
if anybody else feels the same way.
Memories swim to the surface In the office Thursday night, I sat around
drinking coffee, waiting for midnight and any last- minute news. How many
people flicked their TV sets on at five to midnight, I wondered?
We had been through this before -- last year with Kirk Gibson, last month
with Jack Morris. Both returned with minutes to spare. But Parrish's case was
different. The Tiger offer he was turning down was not as significant as the
offers accepted by the other guys. If one of the best catchers in baseball
can't get at least similar terms from another team, there is something wrong
with him that nobody knows.
Or something very wrong with baseball.
Parrish said he fully intends to sign with some other team. That is what
Jan. 8 is about for the players. The right to free agency. The right to fair
market value. But fans don't know about that stuff. Fans still get attached to
players, still let their heartstrings curl around a number and a face.
Parrish's number. Parrish's face. Do you remember the "Goose-Busters!"
chant that rattled Tiger Stadium that October evening -- Game 5 of the 1984
World Series -- when Parrish came up and stroked a seventh-inning home run
off Goose Gossage that lit the Detroit party candle?
Sure you do. And you'll remember Parrish running to the mound to
congratulate his pitchers. And his body-builder frame, and his public service,
and his grin from beneath a thin moustache.
And I will remember a time I went to see him during therapy for his
injured back. He was in the hospital pool, doing laps. He hated doing laps.
"At least you're in the water," I yelled.
"I'd like to see you try it," he yelled back.
I found a pair of shorts and jumped in.
We did the crawl and sidestroke. Lap after lap. There aren't many
athletes I would crawl and sidestroke with. But it was summer and we were hot
and bored and we had a couple "races" in the pool and it helped the session
pass.
That's the kind of stuff you could pull with Lance Parrish, because he
was always slightly amused by the unusual. And after the pool, he had to go
through another hour or two of therapy, and then he gave me a lift to my car,
and as I got out he said, "Hey, thanks for swimming with me."
He probably doesn't even remember that.
I remember it.
A bat, a glove, a brain But enough. No eulogies. Parrish passed, he did
not pass away. This is business. The Tigers are figuring a 30-year-old catcher
with a back problem isn't worth more than a certain gamble.
They might be right.
And they might be wrong. But they are done. No more Lance Parrish -- not
until May 1, if you believe in that type of thing. What the Tigers lose is a
bat, a glove, a brain. They also lose an influence. What some folks call "an
intangible." Kirk Gibson brings fire, but Lance Parrish brings confidence, and
it is hard to say which you would rather have as contagious on your team.
There was not a Tiger I knew of who ever spoke against him. The young
guys admired him. The manager and coaches respected him. Parrish had been here
10 seasons, had never played for another major league team. He said he didn't
want to leave.
But he left.
And he almost surely is not coming back.
This is baseball now. You pack your heart in your bag and you go where
things look better.
Money talks. Parrish walks.
Everybody loses.
DTIGERS;BASEBALL;COLUMN;CONTRACT;LANCE PARRISH