The National Pastime

For, lo, the winter is past,
The rain is over and gone;
The flowers appear on the earth;
The time of the singing of birds is come,
And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.

Until his retirement after more than 30 years as the radio voice of the Detroit Tigers, Ernie Harwell began his opening day broadcast with these words from The Song of Solomon. It was, for me, the signal that spring had truly arrived, full of new beginnings and the possibility that this could be the year that we'd go all the way.

I love baseball. Many of my friends are mystified by this fact, but there it is. I love the history, the lore, the sound of a game being called on the radio. I love going to the ballpark, eating hotdogs, singing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" with a lump in my throat. There are few things as satisfying as getting a successful wave started; double that if both decks manage it at the same time.

I've been a fan nearly as long as I can remember, and the team of my heart is, and will always be, the Tigers. Sure, I root for the Cubs (oh the heartbreak!), and now that we're in Seattle I've adopted the Mariners as my new hometown team (and have come to accept that my kids' primary alliance will be to the M's), but I will remain a die-hard Tiger fan until the day I snuff it - and probably beyond.

Sometimes it's easy. Memories of 1984 make my heart swell with pride even 20 years later (20 years!? Is that possible?). Sparky Anderson was manager and life was good. I lived and breathed baseball that summer, as the Tigers set a record for the best start in major league history (35-5), and then never looked back. We took the pennant and the World Series vs. the San Diego Padres in 5 games. Bless you, boys.

And sometimes, not so much. Last year was dismal, made bearable by only two things: 1) Alan Trammel, one of the best shortstops in Tiger history, and an incredibly decent man, came on as manager and 2) the boys rallied at the end of the season, winning 4 of their last 5 games to avoid the dubious record of having the most losses in a single season. They ended the season at 43-119, allowing the 1962 New York Mets (40-120) to keep their crown. Small miracles, but we'll take 'em.

The 2004 season started on Monday, and the Tigers opened it with a win. And not just any old squeaker of a win... a 7-0 shut-out of Toronto. Their follow-up victory on Tuesday brings it to a division-leading 2-0. Woo and hoo. And eternal optimist that I am (as all Tiger fans are required to be), I can't help but think "This is the year, baby! We're in the running! It could happen!"

As I've devoured sports news coverage for the last few days, I came across a statistic that gave me pause. The last time the Tigers were over .500 was April, 2001. I find that remarkable not only because it highlights just how bad it's been for Tiger fans, but also because it illustrates how in just a few years EVERYTHING can shift.

It's hard to believe how much has changed in our country since then, how dark and how full of loss the last three years have been. I have no doubt that history will look back on these times and shake its head at the unbridled greed and naked aggression of those currently in power. As a nation we've turned our back on compassion and social justice, spit in the face of the international community, and seriously weakened the democracy that has served us for over 200 years by allowing the government to pick and choose which civil liberties we get to keep.

And the death count keeps rising, both ours and theirs.

I think back to last year when I bought Mariner tickets at the beginning of the season. The march to war had begun, but the first battles had not yet been fought and I was very worried about the potential for terrorist attacks at home. 9-11 notwithstanding, we've remained relatively untouched by the random and frequent violence that other countries contend with as part of everyday life, but with the policies we pursue, I have to believe, with much dread, that our time will come again.

Feeling as I did at the time, I wondered if it was a fools errand to be buying those tickets, one game in every month of the season. If we were attacked, I certainly wouldn't be taking my family to watch a baseball game, gathering with tens of thousand of other sitting ducks in a juicy, visible target.

But then the Tiger optimism kicked in. I decided that getting the tickets would be my act of faith in the face of fear, my declaration of intent to the Universe to keep on keepin' on. I hoped the Universe would respond with kindness. Thankfully, it did.

And now here we are, a new baseball season upon us. Our government continues its destructive policies, seemingly unable or unwilling to learn from past mistakes. The violence grows, the atrocities multiply, and that anxiety is stronger than ever. Going over bridges, riding public transportation (as I do nearly every day), gathering with large numbers of people... I worry. I ache for the families of those who have died, and for those who undoubtedly will - theirs and ours.

I hold my kids close and shower them with kisses and hope that the world they are growing into will be better than the one they see now. Together we look forward to the first Mariner game of the season we'll attend in a couple of weeks.

2004. The election year is upon us and the stakes have never been higher. What happens over the course of this summer and fall will define us in the eyes of the world and set our future trajectory. Healing and community or might makes right? Liberty and justice for all or I've got mine and I'm taking yours too? The 1984 dream season or the despair of 2003?

I'd like to think that this great start by my Tigers portends a turning of the tide, that we're coming to the end of a dark, dark run of luck into the light of reason and sanity. As bad as things look right now, the world can turn on a dime and one fantastic double-play can snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. In a final burst of optimism, there's one more statistic I'd like to share. The last time the Tigers started out with a 2-0 record on the road was... 1984.

This could be the year.