<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8602060649
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
860820
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Wednesday, August 20, 1986
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL CHASER
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1D
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1986, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
PETRY DESERVED BETTER IN HIS RETURN TO THE BIGS
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
It should have been better for Dan Petry. He should have had a five-run
lead, and the crowd roaring, and some batter twirling his stick until Petry
blew a fastball by him and marched triumphantly  off the mound. His  Tigers
teammates would grab his hand and say, "Welcome back, buddy." And Petry would
smile and do a few interviews and meet his wife and baby by the station wagon
and drive off into  the moonlight.

  It should have been that way. But it was  not. Not at all. At the end of
Petry's return to action Tuesday evening, he was slumped in front of his
locker, talking softly, looking weary.

  "It wasn't what you hoped for, was it?" someone asked him after the Tigers
 lost, 5-2, to the Angels in Petry's first start in 2 1/2 months.
  "No," he said, glumly. "A win would have been sweeter.  Much sweeter. This
way, it doesn't matter that I threw five innings or that I threw some sliders
or I did this and that. . . . Who cares? You want to win. The team wants to
win."
  There was a small  mob in front of him. He shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't
been in this situation since June, when he underwent surgery to remove bone
chips in his right elbow. He had been in the hospital, he had been  home, he
had been down in Lakeland, pitching for the Class A team, trying to work the
arm back into shape.
  He had been all over. But he had not been here. Now he was here. But it was
not what he  wanted.
  "Doesn't your good performance tonight mean something down the road?"
someone asked. 
  "No," he said, "that's not what I'm here for -- down the road, or next
year. I'm here for now. Here  to help the team."
  Here to win. But  the Tigers lost.
A good-neighbor guy  Now what makes you feel doubly bad about this is that,
in addition to being a crucial  part of the Tigers' rotation,  and a winning
pitcher in all seven of his seasons here, Petry is the rare kind of guy
absolutely everybody likes --  a guy who is unassuming and even-tempered with
an easy laugh and, well . . . you  know. How do you describe it?
  I remember sitting in the press box one night, with fellow writer Tommy
George, talking about Petry, and I said he was a good-guy, next-door-neighbor
type, a  fellow  you'd wave to as he was mowing his lawn. And Tommy said,
"Yeah, and when he reached the point between your lawn and his lawn, he'd come
on over and mow a little bit of yours, too."
  That's about the  best Dan Petry description I can think of.
  So you were pulling for him to win Tuesday, and so were his teammates. But
they let him down several times, stranding runners and botching plays. Petry
threw  fairly well in his five innings and 102 pitches --  especially
considering his time away -- but a loss is a loss, and  time is no longer a
friend to Petry and the Tigers. 
  "I feel like I haven't  really been a part of the team this year," Petry
said before the game.  "It's like I've just been called up from Lakeland. Like
I'm the rookie."
  "What will it take to make this season worthwhile  for you?" he was asked.
  "I'd like to get six more wins," he said, noting his 4-5 record,  "so I
could have at least 10. That would make it some kind of year, anyhow."
  What kind of year has it  been so far? Petry has yet to win at Tiger
Stadium.  That kind of year.
Moment wasn't magic  While he was in Lakeland, Petry listened to the
Tigers' games on radio. He said he could hear the voices in the dugout -- not
really hear them, but hear them in his head -- whenever someone came running
in after a score.
  "I could hear Gibby's scream, I could hear Sparky yelling something," he
said.  "All of it."
  It dug at him that he was not with the club. All he could think about was
getting back. He was impatient before Tuesday's game.
  The time passed, and so did the moment. Petry gave  up only two earned
runs, but on this night that would be one too many.
  "Did you forget how much a loss hurt?" someone asked him afterward.
  "Well, a little," he said. "Here everything counts,  every loss matters.
You feel bad after a loss whether you were pitching or someone else."  
  It should have been a storybook night. The nice guy comes back and wins one
and ignites his team.  But  storybooks aren't laced with base paths. And,
given  the Tigers' season so far, Petry's return went about as  you'd figure.
  It should have been better. But Petry was left -- like the rest of the
Tigers -- hoping the next game will be the good game. Before all the next
games run out.
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
BASEBALL;DAN PETRY;DTIGERS;COLUMN;Detroit Tigers
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
