8702050453
DETROIT FREE PRESS
870729
Wednesday, July 29, 1987
METRO FINAL CHASER
1D
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1987, Detroit Free Press
TIGERS' FIRST-PLACE STORY
MUST WAIT FOR ANOTHER DAY
Here was the idea: Find the Tiger who had waited the longest to be in first
place. A timely concept, I figured. After all, the Tigers were awfully close
to the first-place Yankees. I mean, very, very close. How close? Remember
when Groucho Marx told his dance partner: "Darling, if I got any closer to
you, I'd be behind you"?
That close. A half-game out, to be precise. And Tuesday night, with a
Tigers win and a Yankees loss, Detroit would move atop the AL East for the
first time in a long time. Which Tiger would smile the brightest if that
happened? Which Tiger would have the newspaper standings clipped and framed?
Which Tiger would leap in the air and scream: "HALLELUJAH! OH, THANK YOU LORD!
I'LL NEVER DRINK AGAIN!"
Well, actually, none of them would do that. But it still seemed like a
good question, and I asked it around. And the more I asked, the less it seemed
that anybody on this club had gone very long without being on top.
Some, like Pat Sheridan and Bill Madlock, still had the taste of the 1985
playoffs on their lips (Sheridan with Kansas City, Madlock with the Dodgers).
Others, of course, were with this team in 1984, when it spent the entire
season in first place. These included Kirk Gibson, Jack Morris, Dan Petry,
Willie Hernandez, Dave Bergman, Larry Herndon, Chet Lemon, Lou Whitaker, Alan
Trammell and Darrell Evans.
Great. There went half the team. A three-year wait? Hardly worth writing
about. I was kind of hoping for double digits.
Has he found his man? "How long?" I asked rookie Matt Nokes.
"Minor leagues," he said, "1983."
"How long?" I asked catcher Mike Heath.
"Oakland, 1981."
There's gotta be someone, I thought. I glanced around the lockers. There.
In the corner. The rookie. Jim Walewander. The man who made the Dead Milkmen
famous. If anyone has an unusual story, it'll be this kid.
"How long?" I asked.
"Well," he said, leaning forward, giving the question a lot of thought.
"Let's see. . . . Not last year . . . and not the year before that . . . and
not the year before that . . . and not the year before--"
How old was this guy? I wondered. I might be able to sneak out for lunch.
"Oh! 1982!" he said, bursting into a grin. "The Central Illinois Collegiate
League. We were in first place. I was on the Peoria Pacers. Our cheerleaders
were called the Pacer Chasers. And--"
"Thanks, Jim," I said.
For the next 30 minutes, I tracked down most of the Tigers. It seemed like
none had to go any further back than 1981. I returned to the clubhouse,
disappointed, without an angle, without a subject, without a story.
And there sat Jeff Robinson. The starting pitcher. Might as well try him, I
thought.
"How long?" I asked.
"Man," he said, "I'd have to go way back. This is my first year in the
majors, and all the minor league teams weren't even close, so . . . I'd have
to say high school."
"High school?" My spirits were lifted. My hopes rejuvenated. "When was
that?"
"In 1979," he said, " a little school called Christian High in San Diego."
"Christian High?"
"Yeah. We had 700 kids in the school."
Perfect, I figured. Perfect. Here was the starting pitcher, a rookie, and
of all the Tigers who would play Tuesday night, he had been the longest
without a first-place team. What a nice story this would make. What a nice
angle if he won and the Tigers took over first place. Oh yes. High school.
1979. Jeff Robinson had made my day.
Sorry -- oh, never mind Let us jump ahead here a few hours. To the ninth
inning of Tuesday's game. Here was Robinson, staring down Chicago's Ken
Williams with two outs and a 3-1 lead. The stretch. The pitch. . . .
Strike three called! The Tigers win! Robinson, our hero, goes all the way!
Tremendous! Fabulous!
Now let me tell you something else. In the clubhouse afterward, Robinson
found me and tapped me on the shoulder. He looked perplexed.
"You know those questions you asked?"
"Yes?" I answered slowly.
"Does college count?"
I said, yeah, it did. He made a face. He said his college team, Azusa
Pacific, had finished in first place three years straight. He said it was in
the early 1980s. He said he had forgotten about that, and had realized it out
on the field, and had wanted to tell me because if his old coach ever read he
had forgotten, he would kill him.
There went the angle. There went the story. There went the picture-perfect
scenario. Robinson said he was sorry.
And you know what I said?
I said forget it.
The Yankees won.
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