Detroit – In the final analysis, all the people in Detroit know is the Tigers make them feel good.
When the Tigers open the World Series on Saturday, when they restart their march toward their first championship since 1984, this American League giant will be stealing from the “Monsters, Inc.” animated script. The former-underdog-now-favorite Tigers will be fueled by energy from laughter and smiles.
In a city where unemployment rates double the national average, the Tigers’ games have become three hours surrounded by reality.
“I can’t tell you what an uplifting feeling this has been for the city,” said Brandon Rotz, assistant manager of Cheli’s Chili Bar across the street from Comerica Park. “The economy hasn’t been good around here. They have brought hope and pride back.”
Both were in short supply for the city and the Tigers entering this season. The Big Three – Ford, General Motors and Chrysler – have undergone a Motown Slowdown, sales slumping, leading to lost factory jobs. Who is to blame is at the center of the state’s governor’s race, one the Tigers are influencing.
Before the playoffs began, a Detroit News poll found only 27 percent felt the economy would turn around in the next six months. That number jumped to 34 percent this week as the Tigers prepare to host Game 1 of the Series.
“This is one of the toughest times this city has been through since probably the race riots,” said closer Todd Jones, who played for the Tigers from 1997 to 2001 before rejoining the team this season.
“There’s companies based in Michigan that are laying off 50, 60, 70 thousand people. This whole summer we’ve had the chance to take a few hours out of their day and have them turn on the TV and cheer. I think that’s pretty important.”
The idea of sports transcending politics and mending psyches might seem farfetched – until taking a walk around downtown. Three years ago, when the Rockies played in Detroit during interleague play, the place was dead, saddled with a reputation of being dangerous.
Times have changed
The Rockies nearly lost a series to the Tigers on Father’s Day to a team only a mother could love. Detroit dropped an American League-record 119 games that season. They were a collection of overmatched kids, some who would survive and thrive like third baseman Brandon Inge and pitcher Jeremy Bonderman, and forgettable veterans.
Going to a Tigers game wasn’t a privilege, but a punishment.
“We were embarrassed before by the team. Now, the city has come back, it’s alive right now because of the Tigers,” said Pericles Vogiatzis, manager of New Parthenon, in between orders of lambchops and gyros at his Greektown establishment. “You see what’s going on in the streets. People are happy.”
Detroit began a nip-n-tuck over the past two years, hosting the 2005 Major League Baseball All-Star Game, followed by the Super Bowl in February. That proved the city could still throw a party. But it’s different when the team playing is from your town, when they are your guys.
“When Magglio (Ordoñez) hit that walkoff home run to clinch the ALCS, you could feel the windows in our bar shake,” Rotz said. “People were crying. It was amazing.”
The Tigers, it’s hard to believe, won just 71 games in 2005. They hardly seemed inspiring enough to end the franchise’s string of 18 empty Octobers. Detroit last advanced to the playoffs in 1987 and hadn’t produced a winning record since 1993.
“It’s been an emotional roller coaster, from how strongly they played early, it was like we couldn’t believe it,” said longtime Tigers fan James Beasley from his Detroit home.
“Then to have them lose the division title on the last day, it was depressing. Then you beat the Yankees, and no one cares about the division anymore. It’s a sense of euphoria right now.”
There is a sleeves-up mentality to the Tigers that meshes well with the city’s fabric. Under manager Jim Leyland’s direction, Detroit has forged a reputation for working hard, doing little things well.
The style has created a strong bond with starved fans. When the Tigers eliminated the New York Yankees, they returned from the clubhouse and ran around the outskirts of the field spraying champagne on fans.
A similar scene played out last Saturday when they left footprints on the Oakland A’s chests.
“We have great fans. We hear a lot of ‘thank you’s’ when we are out,” outfielder Craig Monroe said. “It means a lot, that during a tough time, that we’ve done something special for the city of Detroit.”
Troy E. Renck can be reached at 303-954-1301 or trenck@denverpost.com.
