Motor City adventures with Manny Acosta, our new favorite Met,

So Manny Acosta is one of my favorite Mets now. Yeah, it surprised me, too.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Caroline and I made the trip to Detroit last week to see our Mets battle the Tigers at Comerica Park. Now, any opportunity to see the Mets is a great and glorious one, but my last two Motor City-Mets meetings have not gone well for our boys.

The first was a 14-0 bengal beatdown in the Mets' first-ever game in Detroit. The second adventure, this time at Comerica in 2007 was a little better, though the Mets still lost 15-7 with Tom Glavine being disappointed but not devastated.

But those games were during the Streak of Shame. Since that was snapped in Cincinnati, I'm a Mets good luck charm, with a 9-0 victory at Citi Field and even a pair of spring training wins.

Detroit fans are a pretty mellow and humble bunch, so I never fear abuse for wearing Mets gear. The Tom Seaver 1969 flannel gets taken out for only the most formal occasions, so with the assistance of the friends in the Crane Pool Forum I opted to wear the 1992 Eddie Murray home jersey. With racing stripes and buttons, it's very tasteful.

We arrived before the gates opened – of course – and stood in line with another Long Island transplant, he wearing a black David Wright road jersey. He said he was surprised that he wasn't getting any abuse, adding that Phillies fans start abusing him even before he gets to the ballpark.

I wasn't too surprised – Phillies fans can be rough, as Rob will confirm. But I was even less surprised when my new friend mentioned that a pre-game ritual is driving through the streets of Philly with a Chase Utley jersey dragging behind the car. That's hardcore.

We made our way to the first row alongside the Mets dugout to watch batting practice. I brought the glorious Mets book on the off-chance that a player would come by and sign autographs. The Mets are notorious non-signers, and I'm usually very happy to get just a wave.

But third base coach Chip Hale came along, then Scott Hairston. That's two signatures added to the hundreds in the book, and one more than the 2007 encounter, when only Jorge Sosa was willing to be included in the tome.

Brother-in-law Jeff's advice about StubHub was spot-on, so much so that a Comerica usher thought we were seat-crashing in out spots in the aisle 25 rows behind Mets dugout. He was apologetic after I produced the tickets, and our new friend, offering two Tigers pocket schedules with Justin Verlander and much discussion throughout the game. He thought Jose Reyes would look good in a Tigers uniform.

And, as if his ears were burning, Jose led off with a hit, moved to second and scored on Daniel Murphy's double. The Murphy scored on Angel Pagan's double. The team already was ahead of the 1997 game.

But the best was to come in the fourth inning. Josh Thole launched an absolute bomb into the right field bleachers. Then Reyes tripled and came around on a Willie Harris hit.

My daughter was keeping score, and we discussed strategy amid the glorious scoring. With men on third and second and first base open and two out, I explained that Angel Pagan would get nothing to hit and probably walk because the Tigers would rather pitch to Jason Bay, who, I explained, is a bum.

Daddy looked wise when Pagan did, in fact, walk. And he looked like a dunce when Bay ripped one down the left field line, just around the foul pole and into the stands for a grand slam.

The Mets had not him a grannie since 2009, and have given up 18 of them since, mostly to the Phillies. So this historic moment was appreciated and apologies extended to Mr. Bay.

The next inning the Mets loaded the bases again, this time with Carlos Beltran at the dish. Beltran, I explained, is not a bum. But it would be too much to ask for another grand slam from a team seemingly allergic to them. Nobody told that to Beltran, and he smacked one over the left-centerfield wall for the second slam in as many innings.

There was only mild concern when the Tigers' Austin Jackson cracked a two-run homer in the bottom of that inning and when Andy Dirks send one deep in the seventh.

The Mets tacked on one more to make it 14, sending most of the Tigers fans packing. Caroline and I moved down a little closer so we could get photos of the post-game celebration, rare as they might be with me in attendance.

Now, I confess. I have said some unkind things about Mets pitcher Manny Acosta in the past. I was not entirely thrilled to see him take the hill in the ninth inning, even with a 14-3 game seemingly in hand.

But Brennan Boesch popped out to left, Dirks made an out to second, and Don Kelly swung and missed for a strike three, ending the game.

It was fun to see the Mets celebrating the big win, and I knew Acosta had the ball that was used for final out. As he walked to the dugout steps, we called out, “Nice game, Manny!” He looked up and must have seen Caroline and I in our Mets finest, because he smiled and threw us the ball. I had my camera in one hand and grabbed the ball in another, clutching it to my body.

Some kid next to me started pawing me, trying to wrest the ball from my grip.

Then, I heard a voice I had never heard before – coming from me, nonetheless. It was deep and scary.

Get. Your. Hands. Off. My. Ball.

The kid pulled his hands away, knowing what was good for him. I promptly gave the ball to my own kid to enjoy.

Manny Acosta. How about that.

A different usher asked to see the ball – he promised to give it back – and then offered to take a photo of me and Caroline. He then directed us to guest services, where the staff members would present us with a certificate proclaiming that we, in fact, had an official ball from a Major League Game.

On the way out I apologized for any unkind things I might or might not have said about Mr. Bay and Mr. Acosta, and we slipped off into the Detroit night for the long trip home, rewarded by the Mets for our devotion.

To understand the opponent, you need to know where he is from. Our evening at Comerica Park

Since the Tigers have been visiting the Mets this week, I thought it might be a good idea to show Mets fans where the Tigers spend most of their time.

And I'm talking about the ballpark, beacuse you really don't want to see too many photos of Detroit other than our adventures in trespassing at the old yard.

Comerica Park isn't the worst place to see a game, but it's far from my favorite. Like Cit Bank in Philly, it's a jumbled mess.

But there are some neat features, like giant tiger statues -- including two atop the scoreboard with glowing eyes when the team plays "Eye of the Tiger" late in the game. And it's cool that the team takes the field as "Detroit, Rock City" blares from the PA.

So Will and I went to see the Diamondbacks, and wore our sweet D-Backs batting practice jerseys. He's got the Unit, I've got Schilling.

Tigers fans are pretty mellow. I knew we'd never get abused for wearing opposition colors. In fact, I set the over/under on abuse at two people. Other than some mild ribbing from employees, we heard mostly compliments from D-Backs fans. Usually people mentioned it as a way to start a conversation.

The huge tiger statue is one of the good things about the stadium. It's a natural meeting spot and photo zone. There are several other, smaller tigers on the roof on either side.

It is well-known that I will pose with any mascot at any time. Occasionally this brings great discomfort to my friends. We neve got close to Paws, the Tigers' mascot, but we did see the Comcast remote control -- I don't know if he has a name -- and the Belle Tire guy. Will humored me by stepping into the photo.

The team has a booth full of game-worn or used items, including these bats from the Mothers Day game. Sometimes there are affordable items there. Last year I got Lloyd McClendon's locker plate for $10 and Luis Lopez's cap from a Negro Leagues tribute game for $20.

The Ferris wheel and food court were hopping areas, with a band playing. The wheel isn't all that tall, and if not for the novelty of riding in large baseballs at a stadium, it's not exciting. But it's kind of neat to watch.

Comerica has a number of stupid little mistakes, things that could have been done much better. Among those was the placement of the statues in left. They're on the concourse, but right up against the fence so they overlook the seats and playing field.

But people like to take photos of the statues, and they like to take photos of fields and themselves next to said statues. But the only way to get a person and the statue in the same shot is to stand behind them.

So here's Ty Cobb's butt, and Will's too.


The Ernie Harwell statue is near the main entrance, better situated and is a popular posing site. Harwell was probably the most popular person in Detroit, and when he passed away this spring he was brought to the stadium, with the open casket set near the statue and the line stretching around the block. People where snapping photos with their cell phone cameras, which seemed kind of odd.

The Diamondbacks had their way with the Tigers, with Mark Reynolds launching an early bomb and the team padding the lead, sending Rick Porcello all the way back to the Toledo Mud Hens. The Tigers got within striking distance, but Aaron Heilman, of all people, came in to close the door.

The sky was beautiful as the sun started setting. Will noted that the view will be pretty neat as the lights in all the downtown Detroit buildings started flickering on. Then we remembered that we were in downtown Detroit and there would be no lights because most of the buildings are empty.


A couple was married at home plate after the game. They'd won a contest for the honor, and note that Paws, the Tigers mascot, is among the groomsmen and wearing his tux. We suspect the wedding party had been celebrating for much of the evening, because instead of saying, "I do," she yelled, "HELL YES!"


And the game ended with a pretty sweet fireworks show, with the explosions going off right there in centerfield.

Tiger fans, these New Yorkers know your pain

One of the nice things about going to a game at Comerica Park is that you occasionally bump into another New Yorker.

I ran into Liberty near the carousel food court last month and a Tigers photog snapped this shot. Both of us are dressed for the occasion, though I’m wearing Pedro Martinez’s Mets All-Star Game jersey from 2005.

My relationship with the Tigers is complicated.

There are two big strikes against the team.

First, they play in the American League. Ick.

Second, they’re not the Mets.

Neither are entirely the team’s fault. But I can only obsessively follow one heart-breaking franchise at a time and I certainly cannot abandon my roots.

After all, I’m not a Michigander who was born in New York. I’m a New Yorker who lives in Michigan.

The former fondly remembers eating great poppy seed bagels for breakfast every day. The latter still eats poppy seed bagels for breakfast every day and bemoans that they’re just not as good as the ones in Massapequa Park.

I don’t root against the Tigers. I treat them with friendly indifference.

A lot of friends here are big fans, and the Tigers have provided a venue for some amazing baseball adventures for me over the years, including a World Series game.

It’s nice to see former West Michigan Whitecaps wearing the Old English D. I make an annual late-season trip to Comerica. I watch some games on television while on the treadmill.

This year, however, was a little different.

With the Mets decimated by injuries, I started paying a little bit of attention to the folks in Detroit, checking the scores each night and looking to see if Curtis Granderson was doing well.

I cared, for a change.

And I commiserated with co-workers as losses to the Royals and White Sox mounted and the Twins crept closer.

I followed Tuesday’s disaster on my iPhone, and felt a very familiar feeling setting in.

On Wednesday, a distraught co-worker slumped into her seat, saying she was still unable to get over that the Tigers lost first place on the final game of the season, blowing the tie-breaker in extra innings.

After months of planning and looking forward to post-season baseball, there would be none for her.

"Oh, I know how you feel," I said with a sigh. "Exactly how you feel."

Closing out a season at Comerica Park and the Tigers

Made my annual end-of-season trip to Comerica Park to see the Tigers this week.

They got smacked around by the Kansas City Royals, 11-1. Since I'm a neutral observer, this was fine with me. And it was a spectacular night to see a ballgame.

It's taken almost 10 years, but Comerica is starting to grow on me. It's far from perfect, but it's becoming a little more affordable.

So I took a comp day from work and picked a Tuesday night game. After walking down to the Hard Rock Cafe to snag a pin for my son, I popped into a memorabilia shop that's a block from the stadium. It's kind of discounted place, and had table with $1 items, including pins and ticket holder lanyards from the 2006 All-Star Game in Pittsburgh and the 2006 World Series. T-shirts from that All-Star Game were four for $10, but I've got a lot of T-shirts.

Expecting a small crowd, my plan was to buy a cheap upper deck seat and wander around, snapping photos from all vantage points.

Scalpers were out in force. I rarely buy from these guys. But one offered a seat for $10, which is cheaper than what I'd pay at the ticket window, so off we went.

Lady Liberty made the trip from New York after last year's All-Star game. This version is better than some of the others I've seen, but I have some issues with depicting the statue as an object instead of as a person. How much better would this have looked had she been wearing a jersey instead of looking like a graffiti-tagged object?
I like the carousel, which has all tigers and no horses. It's a little pricey for such a short ride, but it's a nice decoration for the center of a food court.
There's another food court with nice tables and decorations. There's an outside television studio on one side, and the Ferris wheel at the end of section.
The Ferris wheel is kind of cool. There's not much of a view, since it's pretty small. But how often do you get to ride a Ferris wheel at a baseball game?
General Motors wanted to take its name off the center field fountains in a cost-cutting move. But the Tigers gave them the ad for free, and added Ford and Chrysler, too, to show support for the three automakers.
I have some issues with the placement of the statues. Their backs face the concourse, making it a tight squeeze if you want to shoot the front. But at least they have statues.


Ty Cobb, forever sliding in with spikes high.
This is what the warning track had to see whenever Al Kaline made a leaping catch at Tiger Stadium.

Lots of Gary Sheffield t-shirts and bobbleheads available on clearance racks. Dontrelle Willis' stuff was on sale, too, which sure indicates his status with the team.

The Tigers also hade a game-used memorabilia section, with all kinds of things ranging from affordable to silly. But I snagged Lloyd McClendon's spring training locker nameplate for $10, and a game-used cap from when the Indians and Tigers wore Negro Leagues uniforms. I have Indians first base coach Luis Rivera's cap -- he's an ex-Met!
The team did a nice job with little details. These tigers are at the end of every row -- and seem a lot better than the stickers the Mets slapped on their seats.
Dusk settled in. In the middle of summer, it stays light in Michigan until after 10 p.m. since we're on the far end of the time zone. But this was a beautiful mid-September night.
This guy ran on the field near the end of the game. He started tugging his shorts like he was going to be a streaker. Fans were cheering, I think, that security got there in time.
Curtis Granderson's a good guy who does a lot for the community and made the All-Star team this year. If there was any player I'd consider "My Tiger," it would be him.
This fan seems to think so, too. But it looks like her son favors Magglio Ordonez.
Here's a cameraman's view of Victor Marte closing the door on the Tigers. By the end of the rout, I managed to wander down to the section right behind the Tigers' dugout.
The tigers atop the scoreboard roar when a Tiger hits a home run, but they were silent this night.

The Tigers are atop a weak AL Central, but they're slumping at the wrong time and the Twins are inching closer. Not that we'd know anything about that.

It's been a good season as far as attending Major League games. I caught the Mets twice in spring training, and then the glorious day at Citi Field. August had the Executive Game at U.S. Cellular and wrapping things up at Comerica, which has become a tradition.

Baseball Place No. 31: Monument Park, Legends Field; and, Alternative spot No. 31A) Comerica Park statues

Why, Josh? Why?

I understand that 101 places is a lot, and some places might not be as glorious as others.

And while I personally might not want to go there, I can understand why you would include Monument Park in the Bronx.

But I’m calling foul on place No. 31: Monument Park at Legends Field in Tampa.

From what I can tell, these aren’t even monuments. They’re circles with the retired numbers with a description of the player, the same that fills the space in front of the bullpens in the Bronx.

The Tampa version isn’t even in the stadium, but on some grass near the parking lot.

Josh. My friend. Plywood tributes to over-rated Yankees might be an adequate lawn art and squirrel obstacles on the buffer between the Toyotas and trash cans at some cheesy spring training site.

But they do not qualify as one of the “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

I haven’t been there. And I don’t plan to go there. But I do know of another major league team with a flawed tribute to its greats and near-greats, but without the ick-factor that clings to anything Yankee.

Alternative Place No. 31A: Comerica Park statues

Willie Horton and other Tigers greats are depicted in action.

I give the Tigers points for the attempt.

Moving from their historic yard to the bland Comerica Park in 2000, the team wanted to salute some of their all-time greats. And to be sure, when the conversation about the best player of all time includes someone who wore your uniform, you get to make a big deal about it.

That’s why I want the Mets to do something more with Willie Mays, but I digress.

The Tigers created statues of six players -- Ty Cobb, Charlie Gehringer, Hank Greenberg, Willie Horton, Al Kaline and Hal Newhouser – stretching between left field to center.

Old habits are hard to break. Ty Cobb spiked my friend Steve.

There are some people who grumble about Horton, but he’s been active in the Detroit community for years and is pretty much beloved. Outsiders don’t get it, but they don’t have to.

So the statues are a nice idea. But they goofed.

I suspect the idea was to place them close to the field, so the greats of old overlook the Tigers of today.

The statues face the field, and there isn’t much space between the pedestals and the railing that separates the seats from the walkway.

Prince Hal was cool. But I don't want to pose next to his butt.

Quick: What’s the one thing people do with statues at a ballpark? Take photos of them!

And more often than not, they pose with the statues.

But the way the Tigers have the statues arranged, there’s no way to get a nice photo from the front. You’d have to go down into the seats, and they the angle is off.

So then you have a lot of people taking photos of the backs or sides of the statues. It just doesn’t work. They should move them back about 10 feet.

There's no good way to get a shot of the front of this otherwise great Kaline statue.

Then, the team decided to go one step further, and paint the players’ names and numbers on the brick wall below the statues.

Now, what’s the usual way you see names and numbers? Name on top, number on the bottom, like on the jerseys.

Except the Tigers decided to have the number on top, and the name on the bottom. The big problem is that Ty Cobb didn’t have a number, so you have this big blank space between the top of the wall and the name.

I can only guess, but I suspect the team put the numbers on there first, realized it looked odd to have the blank space under Cobb, then added the names.
If the names were on top, Cobb not having a number wouldn't look so awkward.

The Tigers need to know that people would be able to identify their iconic players from a distance without throwing their names up there on the wall.

The Mets, for example, are throwing mere silhouettes of famous players above the gates at Citi Field, and we were able to identify all the players before the things were even installed.

So, Josh gets a swing and a miss for thinking Yankee plywood is important, and the Tigers get a check-swing strike for bad planning.