Wahoo Sam

While I was in Cooperstown last weekend I was wearing one of my favorite T-shirts, purchased at the Hall of Fame about five years ago. It has, printed on the back, all of the Hall of Famers who ever played for the Tigers. Since they've been around since the beginning of the American League, it's a pretty big list. While in the gift shop the clerk told me they hadn't had that shirt in quite a while. I replied that there wasn't much Tigers stuff at all. There was plenty of Yankees, Cubs, Red Sox, Mets and Phillies paraphernalia, and due to Roberto Alomar and Bert Blyleven's induction, lots of Blue Jay and Twins stuff, but not much for the Tigers.

Standing on Main Street, waiting for the parade to begin, some Twins fan noticed my shirt and said, almost with a sneer, "I didn't realize there were that many." Harrumph. Like he has something to brag about: with Blyleven there are now a big four players wearing Twins hat on their plaques. The Tigers happen to have a long and rich history of great players, some of whom have been pretty much relegated to the ashes of time.

Consider Sam Crawford, who has one of the most enduring records of all times. He is the career leader in triples, with 309 over his career. He broke Jake Beckley's record in 1913, and it has stood for 98 years. The closest active player is Carl (no relation!) Crawford, who is a full 200 triples behind. Carl Crawford is tied for 125th all time! Of course, this is due to the changing nature of the game--triples were far more common during the dead ball era, and there is absolutely no way the record will be broken without some significant rule changes. A lot of triples are also a good indication of greatness. Of the top 20 career leaders in triples, only one (the heretofore unknown to me Ed Konetchy) is in the Hall of Fame.

Crawford played for the Tigers during their early days, from 1903 to 1917. He was part of the their three A.L. pennants in a row, 1907 to 1909, but of course he played alongside and in the shadow of Ty Cobb. Nicknamed "Wahoo Sam" because he hailed from Wahoo, Nebraska, Crawford was in the top ten in slugging percentage every year from 1901 to 1915. He is believed to hold the record for inside-the-park home runs in a season (12 in 1901). He led the A.L. in RBIs three times and triples five times.

Crawford and Cobb had a complicated relationship. Crawford (probably reasonably so) bristled at Cobb's style of player, finding it too individualistic. The two reconciled at Harry Heilman's funeral in 1951, and some believe it was Cobb's campaigning that got Crawford elected to the Hall by the Veterans' committee in 1957.

Sam Crawford would go on to live a reclusive life, without even a telephone. He was interviewed by Lawrence Ritter for his classic book on early baseball stars, "The Glory of Their Times." Crawford died in 1968 at the age of 88.

Erie Seawolves

The other night I went to Trenton's lovely Waterfront Park on a sultry night to watch the Trenton Thunder take on the Erie Seawolves, the Tigers' double-A affiliate. Mostly I liked what I saw, as the Seawolves eked out a taut 5-4 victory.

Looking over the roster, only one name was familiar to me--Jacob Turner, a pitcher who has high potential. He did not start, though. Instead it was Casey Crosby, who has gone 5-1 this year with a decent ERA. He tired mid-way through the game, but was able to get the victory.

The player I was most impressed by was the catcher, Bryan Holoday. He's not a big hitter--he worked out two walks on Monday night, and is hitting .239, but I liked the way he worked behind the plate. He threw out two runners trying to steal and blocked the plate effectively on a play at the plate. He did make a mental error--when a Trenton runner was hung out to dry between first and second, Holoday threw behind the runner, allowing him to take second.

It was a fun night at the park, and I kept the scorecard to see if, in a few years, any of these guys make the big club. It's always fun to see young they look (some were born in the 90s, for chrissakes) and have a laugh over names. The Seawolves have a guy named Deik Scram, so he should be called up just so Chris Berman can have fun with that. And in the middle innings the Seawolves first baseman, Rawley Bishop, faced a Thunder pitcher, Ryan Pope. Pope against Bishop. If only one of the were a Cardinal.

Welcome to Tiger Rag!

Those who know me from Go-Go-Rama know I have two sports passions: the Detroit baseball team, and the Princeton Women's Ice Hockey team, both conveniently called the Tigers. I may be the only person on Earth who has this combination of favorite teams; I'm pretty sure that this the only blog that covers these two disparate topics.

This won't be any everyday blog like Go-Go-Rama. I am a dislocated fan of the Detroit Tigers, living in New Jersey, so I don't get to see them often. I follow from afar and get updates from my Dad, so I can enjoy or suffer along with Michiganders. As for Princeton, they are deep in the off-season now. When the season starts I'll post game recaps (I see every home game) and may even take a few road trips.

Princeton's latest news is that they have a new assistant coach. Jessica Link is out, and Cara Gardner Morey is in. Both were Brown graduates. Going to as many games as I do I hear stuff, but this will not be a gossip site, as it isn't fair to air dirty laundry about people. This will strictly be fan site--I'm not interested or knowledgeable to blast coaches or players.

As for Detroit, that's another matter. Those guys are pros and certainly won't give a shit as to what I have to say. Right now the are a game and a half out of first place behind the Indians, though they have played lousy, their pitching getting shredded by National League teams. They were hitting great, but the Angels cooled them off a bit. They certainly are in the hunt, though.

As the season progresses I'll offer my less than probing insights, but mostly my history with the team, which I've been following since 1969 (my first game at Tiger Stadium was a 5-0 loss to the White Sox, a shutout by the now-forgotten Gary Peters).