Superstitious

It's been a long, but enjoyable, past 9 months from many perspectives of life. Financially, my wife and I were finally able to rid of a left over property that caused us nothing but headaches since we were relocated nearly 4 years ago. Talk about a relief to finally see an extra $1,700 per month flow back into one's life. Family wise, it's been a real treat to watch my 17 month old son grow up. And boy does the growing go fast, real fast. And then comes the part around the house where my wife and I decided to put a boulder of pressure on our shoulders in trying to convert a den into a play room, finish our basement, and decorate a nursery for our soon to be daughter in a mere 7 month time period. All this while trying not to miss out on our son's milestones, as he seems to reach one on a daily basis (I especially like the ones where he responds ecstatically to Let's Go Blue/Tigers/Red Wings/Pistons).

Mixed into all this jumble has been one heck of a stretch for my teams, but with heartbreaking endings. The Tigers went to the World Series, Michigan football was one game from the National Championship Game, and the Red Wings & Pistons were both two games from Stanley Cup Finals and NBA Finals. So much success and so close, yet all missed out on the big prize. Anyone who is close to me knows how big of a sports fan I am and how seriously I take this stuff. Needless to say, I've spent a number of nights in the last 9 months wondering what might have been. I had one ticket to Game 6 of World Series and I dreamt for two weeks of the Tigers winning it on that night and what I would do drenched in the middle of such jubilation. Game 6 was never even played.

What exactly is the point in all this? Well, just when you think you've packed up your sports following for a few months to give yourself a much needed mental and stress break, you accidentally step into something that pulls you right back in. Last night, with my basement now finished and in the middle stages of being re-organized, I decided to tune into the Tigers game on my XM Radio for the 1st time this year. What a surprise I was in for.

It's been nearly 23 years since I sat with my late Grandpa in St. Clair Shores, MI, at the ripe age of 8 and watched Jack Morris pitch a complete gem against the Chicago White Sox to register the last Detroit Tiger no hitter. I still remember the joy on my Grandpa's face as he shouted out loud when it was over and then watching Morris and Parrish hug in jubilation on the field. And then last night, 23 years later, alone in my basement with my son sleeping soundly upstairs, the unlikely happens again as Justin Verlander does it. There is just something about magical about a no hitter. Even more magical is that in 1984 and in 2007 I was able to watch or listen to both.

I must be lucky? Maybe it will help make-up for the tough endings my teams have recently faced? However, I think it has made me superstitious. The last Tigers no hitter was in 1984. We all know how that year ended. I had a mysterious feeling last night, call it a prognosis, if you will, that this Tiger season will end just like the infamous moment in 1984, when Larry Herndon pulled in the fly ball down the left field line to give the Tigers their last World Series.

I'm saying it now, the stars are aligning for the Tigers this year, if only in my head. We are on our way to a joyous celebration come October, when us Detroit fans can rejoice an ending that doesn't come up short. Maybe I'm just convincing myself to get lured back into the sports scene that has exhausted me, lately. Either way, the memory and emotion of last night has garnered my full attention to witness a Tiger season, which just might end as magical as that October night way back in 1984.

Go Tigers!

DP