DETROIT — Nemo’s is one of those sports bars where you always smell the mustard on the hot dogs and hear the roar of the crowd. Until Tiger Stadium closed one block away 10 years ago, those images weren’t imaginary.
Today, the only remnants left of the old yard are the stands behind home plate and down the lines. It’s wrapped inside a cyclone fence, looking no more nostalgic or romantic than the Detroit factories, homes and schools that have suffered the same fate.
Tim Springstead’s father, nicknamed Nemo, opened the joint in 1965. The walls are covered with framed front pages of Detroit’s glorious sports past.
The Springsteads haven’t put much on the walls lately. They don’t mind. At least they have their walls. If the U.S. is in an economic earthquake, Detroit is the epicenter.
“Detroit,” Tim Springstead said. “It’s gone.”
This weekend, however, Detroit is back. It is wiping off the dust of another condemned building and tooting its horn. The cure isn’t a government bailout. It’s 16 college kids and a coach who hail from 90 miles away in tree-lined East Lansing but are as blue-collar and rugged as a GM assembly-line worker.
Michigan State’s rise to the Final Four won’t bring Detroit back to its 1950s’ glory, back when Kaline was a household name and everyone wanted to drive a Cadillac. However, in a city that Time magazine recently said “is deader than Studebaker,” people here finally have a reason to cheer, at least for a few days.
“We can put our chests out and be proud,” said George Perles, Michigan State’s football coach from 1983-94 and now a university trustee. “Take a school like Michigan State, a Big Ten school more known for football than basketball, to win a national championship in their backyard? You’ll see green and white around here for years to come.”
So far, the mood around here has been bluer than the Detroit Lions’ uniforms. The sports scene has been nearly as bad as the economy. Last year the Tigers tanked, Michigan football had its worst year since 1962, the Pistons suddenly stank and, oh, have the Lions won a game yet?
Detroiters need more than the Red Wings’ steady excellence to get their minds off the economy. Unemployment is more than 20 percent. The city faces an estimated $300 million budget deficit. Fifty schools will close by the end of 2010. The biggest auto industry collapse since 1931 has seen Ford close 17 plants nationwide and lay off 51,000 employees. And Ford is the healthiest of Detroit’s Big Three automakers.
“People don’t understand. It’s bad here,” said Kim Viculin, president of Michigan State University’s West Metro Detroit Alumni Association who has lived in Detroit for 25 years. “You read about some places and their economics, but Detroit has been in a recession for the last five or six years.”
No one knows better than Springstead. He grew up in the city, and as he drove through his hometown Thursday afternoon, it was obvious Detroit needed good cheer. Five minutes from where modern Ford Field and Comerica Park rub concrete with the new Detroit Opera House, urban blight is in full decay.
The Spartans will help pump money into the local economy. Before Michigan State beat Louisville on Sunday to reach the Final Four, the $240 tickets were going for 50-70 percent of face value. Now they’re going for at least $500. Despite one team from only 90 miles away, the Final Four is expected to generate $50 million for the city.
“This is a big deal,” Viculin said. “It’s a big source of pride. You’re going to see a ton of people from Michigan State here, whether they get in the game or not. The crowd is going to be unbelievable.”
And, you won’t have to be in Nemo’s to hear the roar all over town. Detroit has fallen for this gritty group of Spartans, offering an emotional rescue to a city that can’t fall much farther. Just walk down the street from Ford Field to the 36th District Courthouse.
Hanging off the side, like a giant sign of hope, is a big green-and-white Michigan State flag.
John Henderson: 303-954-1299 or jhenderson@denverpost.com
