The Remnants Of Tiger Stadium

    On this opening day of the baseball season in Detroit, it would be easy to write forlornly about Tiger Stadium not being around for the first time in almost a century.  Nothing will bring it back now though, and every thinking person already knows it was a mistake, if not downright evil, to wipe it completely from the face of the earth, with no explanation why, in a city with no shortage of vacant land and desperately in need of ways to make money.  But this is not about what's gone, it is about what's left.  It is a survey of the Corktown neighborhood in which the ballpark stood, for any sign (bars such as Nemo's notwithstanding) there was once a ballpark here. 

     On the grounds themselves, only two things remain.  One hardly merits mentioning because it was only part of the stadium for the last seven years of its use.  Nonetheless, the iron fence erected in 1992 to surround the mall-like plaza Mike Ilitch had built; money better spent on pitching, is still standing along Michigan Avenue.  The other, sadder, remnant is the flag pole which stood inside the 440-foot mark in centerfield.  Both these things will probably be gone once the metal scrappers, who are allowed to thrive in this city, breed their next generation of super-scrappers who will be able to cart off even larger objects.  

    There are two streets named after former players.  Kaline Drive and Cochrane Avenue  intersect each other but there is no street sign where they meet.  Kaline Dr. may be in jeopardy of disappearing, as no less an authority than Google Earth refers to it by its old name, Cherry.  It runs for only two, now useless, blocks west of the stadium site; while east of Trumbull it is actually designated Cherry before being named Kaline again at its termination two blocks later.  It's hard to say which name will win out.

     Cochrane Avenue,  named after the great Tiger catcher and manager, Mickey Cochrane, whose career was cut short by a pitch to the head which almost killed him in 1937, and whom Mickey Mantle was named after, may one day be all that remains as an indicator of what was here.  After traveling along the former third-base line,  his name then graces the grand footbridge connecting Corktown to North Corktown where the street continues for several blocks.

           All the other remnants in the old ballpark neighborhood, not surprisingly, have to do with parking.  They are, however, interesting and varied.  The largest stands at the corner of Trumbull and Leverette.   A two-sided, fairly well-preserved sign, protected by a fence; which is probably the only thing saving it from graffiti tags and other vandals.  It is the only artifact left which mentions Tiger Stadium.  Without proper maintenance it will eventually succumb to the elements, just like the other, smaller, signs which themselves are few.

    

    The two signs on the "Project #30" building, Beyster Terrace, contain the only reference to baseball.  There are also a few official parking signs, put there so residents would still be able to park without worry of a fan stealing their spot. They offer a slight, albeit melancholic, pleasure, for a parking sign anyway, with their unique reference to the months of the baseball season. 

    Also, a ghostly E-Z Out parking mural resides on the back of an abandoned house, overlooking the Gaelic League.

    The most interesting remnant, however, and what should be the most enduring, are the parking-lot licenses screwed to telephone poles, and a couple of trees.  There are about twenty of these totemic objects scattered throughout the neighborhood, mostly to the north and east of the stadium site.  Some have up to a dozen plates in varying colors.  The yearly license was often attached on top of the previous year's but sometimes placed increasingly higher.  They all have a unique, non-contrived artistic beauty.

         These are definitely arcane artifacts and as time moves on their meaning will be lost on more and more people.  Indeed, most people would not even notice them now.  I realize by writing this I may be encouraging souvenir seekers, absconders of history.  I ask that they show restraint and know they would be erasing all that is left, as trivial as it is, of the very sacred spot they feel so attached to in the first place.  Please let them be.