The Imperfect Games...

"I cannot get rid of the hurt from losing, but after the last out of every loss, I must accept that there will be a tomorrow. In fact, it's more than there'll be a tomorrow, it's that I want there to be a tomorrow. That's the big difference, I want tomorrow to come." - Sparky Anderson

I thought last October was the worst Tiger-fan pain ever. Watching, craving, praying for a playoff birth. Settling in to a significant lead as September began. Watching the Twins whittle away, and scrape and claw into within games the last week of the season. The last week, Tiger fans were still relaxed, and everyone around southeastern Michigan and Tiger fans all over kept saying the same thing: "They only need to win one." Yet, they couldn't get one more win. And season ended with the Tigers and the Twins dead even….and the Tigers forced to board a plane to purgatory - the Metrodome. Yet, even then, most Tiger fans still had hope and optimism, no matter how beaten down that team actually was. Their multi-million dollar superstar was picked up at jail by the team President 2 days earlier and yet, in metro-Detroit, smiles on their faces, English D caps on their heads, people still walked with confident smiles.

But they lost. The details, of which, I've tried to block from memory. At the end of the day, it was the Twins mobbing their team at homeplate. And a silence and sadness came over Detroit…the team, and the city, and all the transplants across the country….and the dark, cold, winter could finally settle in…How badly this team had let down their fans.

Only six months later, with spring, 50,000 people came back downtown in April on a Friday afternoon, decked out in Orange and Blue. The past, just stored away in the memory box, hopeful to replace it with victories.

"Baseball is a lot like life. It's a day-to-day existence, full of ups and downs. You make the most of your opportunities in baseball as you do in life." - Ernie Harwell

In April 1983, I was 7 years old. Though I understood and enjoyed baseball, it was still a new game to me. But I loved the pace, and the announcers calling the game would explain it to me. And so, I learned to listen. My parents went out one night and my babysitter, Stephanie Smith, our high school neighbor across the street, stayed with me and my brothers. And, because she was a softball player, and Tiger fan too, of course we watched the Tiger game. I didn't realize what I was seeing as it was happening. Until, the 9th inning when the announcers finally used the words, and the fans cheering when the batters were simply grounding out. Stephanie explained to me what it meant to be "perfect" on a baseball field. And I remember her saying that it just never happens. Though I was only 7, i had watched enough baseball to understand there were hits, and there were walks. And there were sometimes errors, and even home runs. And if a team couldn't score in the 1st inning, it wasn't a big deal….they had 8 more chances ahead. So to be "perfect" and allow none of those things to happen, or go wrong, over 3 hours, I could realize there was something special about what we were watching. My parents arrived home during the 9th inning, and my Dad turned on the radio in the kitchen to hear Ernie Harwell's voice. I didn't understand then why he didn't want to watch it on TV with Al Kaline and George Kell, but he said it was Ok, he just wanted to listen. As the Tiger pitcher retired batters 25 and 26, my Mom and Stephanie were cheering at the television, I understood we were watching history. And then, Jerry Hairston, the 27th batter, hit a nice lined single into right field. One swing altered the record books.

Today, outside of Detroit, the name Milt Wilcox doesn't mean much. Maybe if you're talking to a baseball fan, they remember he played for the Tigers. This week, his name will probably come up a little bit more. But on April 15, 1983, Milt Wilcox retired 26 batters in a row….allowed a single….and then retired the 28th.

Armando Galarraga was picked up by the Tigers in a trade with Texas. To most Tiger fans, he was another guy from Venezuela - who we seemed to be accumulating. I don't even know who we gave away to get him. He was expected to be a serviceable young pitcher, middle reliever, maybe get some spot starts. Instead, in 2008, he was one of the brighter members of the pitching staff. With Bonderman's absence, he became an important puzzle piece in Leyland's jigsaw pitching staff. Finishing 13-7, but pitching deep into games and confusing the hitters, Tiger fans learned to appreciate him - even if they didn't learn to love him. Commentary from the broadcast booth was always "Galarraga continues to surprise." In 2009, after wearing himself out with Team Venezuela at the World Baseball Classic, he came in lacking something. Though slated to be a solid starter, he had a rough year, ultimately losing his starting slot. In spring training 2010, most Tiger fans would have picked him 3rd after Nate Robertson and Dontrelle. And, ultimately, the Tigers did too. And he began his season with the Toledo Mud Hens.

In the years he's been with the Tigers, and those games I've been to during those years, I have never seen a "Galarraga" jersey or t-shirt worn by fans. Or even for sale. He's one of the fringe guys, quiet, reserved, goes about his business. Some days are better than others. But on no day, do the Tiger fans come into Comerica Park with an expectation that Armando Galarrage is going to do something spectacular. Certainly not expect him to retire 27 batters in a row. If asked which of the Tiger starters would be capable of a perfect game, there are arguably 6 other guys who they'd name, including guys not even starting yet. Most fans would have named anyone of them over Galarraga. If you asked even a die-hard Tiger fan who wears #58, you'd likely get a delayed and probably wrong response.

But, on June 2, 2010, Armando Galarraga, #58, and wearing the English D for only 2 weeks this season, took the mound and proceeded to retire 26 batters in a row. And then, on the 27th, he did exactly what he was supposed to do. After giving up a grounder to the right side, he immediately headed to cover 1st base. He followed the play, adjusted his feet and glove, waited for the ball to come while stepping on the bag.

And he beat the runner to the base.

Jim Joyce, the first base umpire, thought otherwise, and paused, ever so slightly (while in a split second making a decision to withhold the out…..to take away from this young serviceable pitcher an achievement he will never see again….to take away from the Tiger fans, something they've never seen in 110 years of Tiger baseball….to take away from the record books, the 21st perfect game) before finally, stretching his arms to signal safe.

While the Tiger fans in Comerica, Detroit, southeastern Michigan, the west side of Michigan, the entire lower Peninsula, the UP, in New York, and California, and Atlanta….gasped-yelled-screamed-broke things-moaned-groaned-smacked the table-dropped their jaws-became nauseated-cried-sighed.

While the Tiger fans did all of those things….Armando Galarraga midway through his celebration...looked at the umpire...dropped his arms...and broke into a smile....and walked back to the mound.

With the next batter, he proceeded to get his 28th out.

"One of the greatest discoveries a man makes, one of his great surprises, is to find he can do what he was afraid he couldn't do." - Henry Ford

Thinking Out Loud...

When I was growing up, there was a regular sports columnist for the Detroit News named Joe Falls. He was a grouchy old man, a New York native, who made his was to Detroit in the 50's, and who learned to love Detroit, and loved Detroit athletes. He was a baseball guy - who wrote most eloquently about America's pasttime, and eulogized ballplayers more than any other athletes... In the pre-internet elementary and middle school years, I loved getting our Sunday paper, to pore through the sports pages before catechism, and I always associate Joe with those lazy sunday mornings when i was likely getting yelled at for not being dressed for church...By the time I was in college, Joe was gettin' up there in age, and some weeks he just didn't have the focus to write any more. Or, so I assumed... On those "off weeks" Joe would write a column he called "Thinking Out Loud" - which was basically just a Joe Falls list of thoughts and complaints about what was going on around him. At the M-Den, where I worked throughout my college years, we loved to read these columns and laugh about old Joe...

Anyway, since I'm low on energy, and focus these days, this is the best I can do...have a millions thoughts in my head, and things to say about leaving NYC...but can't find the time. Or, the words, really...

1. 2010, wow. That makes me feel really old.

2. Hey, Tigers - any way you can rescind that deal and get Curtis Granderson back? You know you're gonna regret that right? Dude's going to the White House tomorrow to host an event with the First Lady. Future politician that kid...

3. Bought Atlanta Braves tickets. If I'm moving to Atlanta, I'm gonna adopt their teams. Ok, just the Braves. And only because the Tigers traded my favorite Tiger ever. But, when the Tigers come to town for inner-league play in June, I'll probably hit every game. And probably wear my English D t-shirts...

4. The Apple I-Pad is a must have. Amazing, my Amazon Kindle is already obsolete. I've only had it for a year. All of my music, all of my books, all of my contacts, all of my newspapers, all of my calendar on one flat pretty Apple product for less than $1000? I'm sold. Ship me one immediately, Mr. Jobs...

5. The only subway train in NYC that I never rode was the G train. The worst train is the F. Its unfortunate my friend Frank lives a few blocks from the F. I've had to the take the F#*KING F Train many many times in the past few years and each ride is worse than the last. Tonight, was no exception.

6. When I first moved to NYC, I was broke. And when my boyfriend Steve moved to NYC six months later, he was even more broke. We ate most of our weekend date meals at New York Noodletown in Chinatown. We could get 2 bowls of noodles and soup full of meat for $3.25, and we would share Singapore Mai-Fun, spicy, and Salt-baked shrimp. Served with ice water and tea, and orange slices for dessert. The whole meal would cost us about $15. We ate this meal, almost weekly, for the next 2 years...never got sick of it. To this day, it is one of my favorite meals and favorite restaurants in NYC. Gotta make sure I get there at least once before I leave town.

7. I love the Olympics. I like rabidly cheering for American athletes that come around once every 4 years. And, the Olympic hockey tournament is going to be pretty awesome. And, Shaun White -- pretty down to earth solid kid...I like seeing him win too.

8. Glad the Saints won the Super Bowl. Great team, great leadership, and a good story for New Orleans.

9. Movers come to pick up my stuff on February 18th. *sigh* I'm so busy between now and then, I have no idea if I'm going to get any more good-byes with good friends. Apologies in advance.

10. I will never buy a book again. At least not in hard copy form. Packing these boxes is making me crazy.

11. I've got a lot of friends out in the Bay area...and, I've never made it out there...which is ridiculous, really, because I travel any and everywhere in the U.S. of A...putting it on the calendar for May/June. Everyone I know that I trust and respect always tells me that I belong in San Francisco and that I will fall in love with the city. Even weirder that I've never been there, right?

12. There was this boy that I liked a lot back in the Summer/Fall of 2006. But, he lived in Wisconsin and I lived in New York, and even though I liked him a lot...and, even though he was sweet and nice and hard-working and tall and cute and was a drummer (which automatically makes him hot) and we could talk about books/politics/football/life/snow/gardening/smoking/church/music/writing/law/love...unfortunately, we both had a lot of things in our respective lives that complicated things. So, things ended. Not badly, just sadly. Well, advances in modern technology, and 3 years later out of the blue - he "Facebook Friended" me last month...and, he's living an interesting and exciting life in Switzerland, having left everything behind in Wisconsin to go exploring. It made me very happy to see that - it is satisfying seeing someone you really like a lot, living a great and wonderful life...

13. Having trouble finding a good dog breed for me. I need one independent, lazy, easy-going, but I hate little dogs...Of course, 2010 has me in arbitration hearings in Jackson, Mississippi in April, Knoxville, Tennessee in May, June off, back to Jackson, Mississippi in August and September, Louisville, Kentucky in October, Birmingham, Alabama in November, and taking the month of December off... my canine companion may have to wait until 2011.

14. I hope to get on the ski slopes this year. My fancy new ski boots I bought at the end of 2008 have only been used once.

15. I'm not in Atlanta yet, but part of me is already wishing I moved back to Michigan instead. I'll probably have that feeling every so often though...so i'm trying to just roll with it and keep my spirits up.

16. My movie take: Avatar was terrible. I'm sorry, the special effects were very cool, but the story was just terrible. The Hurt Locker, similarly terrible. Having read a million soldier-memoirs from Iraq and Afghanistan vets, and having watched a number of documentaries about Iraq, this movie was just so boring. Crazy Heart, great music, great movie - but basically The Wrestler without any blood.

17. I wonder how long before Kwame Kilpatrick gets indicted back in Detroit. Again.

18. Only 2 more weeks of the Metro-North train to our firm's White Plains, NY office. Thank God. That place makes me suicidal. Who would choose to work there? Or live there?

19. My bike, that has served as a coat rack in my closet-sized kitchen for the past 5 years, is going to get dusted off, tuned up, and we'll be doing a lot of exploring in the state of Georgia this summer. That, I am excited about.

20. I have this framed-photo taken of the Museum of Contemporary Art in Detroit. Its a dark night sky, there is snow falling, and you can't really see the building, except that the bottom of the photo is lit up by the lights that read: "Everything is Going to be Alright"

It looks kinda like this...except darker. with snow.

Andre Bauer: My new neighbor...

The South Carolina candidate for governor...who believes that free food for schoolchildren leads to ... excessive breeding? So, apparently, we should starve the poor children of South Carolina? Huh? More commentary on this later...

Free to Good Home...

I am giving away books. I can't bear to drag these with me to another apartment. I will happily ship them off to friends of mine who want them. I am too lazy, however, to make a complete list of all the books and movies I have available, so I'm using the world's greatest invention (IPhone) to advertise them. If you see something you like/want/need - send me an email with your mailing address, and I will drop them in the mail... The only ones in there you can't have are the John Cheever short stories (I need to hold onto that disenchantment with suburbia), and the South Carolina and Savannah travel guides (as I imagine I'll be doing some exploring once I get settled)

Life After Coupland...

Life is dull, but it could be worse and it could be better. We accept that a corporation determines our life’s routines. It’s the trade-off so that we don’t have to be chronically unemployed creative types, and we know it.

If I were teaching an English seminar at a small liberal-arts school in New England, where all my students worshipped me as hip and cool, and would be willing to stand on desks for me to profess their support if given the opportunity (which, could happen, you know...) my course on literature would be a seminar called "Generation Coupland: A study of the world,works, and impact of Douglas Coupland"

My reading list would be as follows:

Shampoo Planet
Microserfs
J-Pod
Generation X
Polaroids From the Dead
Life After God
Generation A
(We would skip the minor works - those written solely because he must have been under contract to write them: Girlfriend in a Coma, All Families are Psychotic, Eleanor Rigby...)

In addition, in preparation for daily class, they would also have the following types of homework assignments:

Find" as many essays and articles written by Coupland under a pen name.
They would also be required to play Atari 2600 video games, and report on how long they played before getting bored.
View Say Anything, and Singles
Make a mix-tape for a girlfriend/boyfriend/ex-girlfriend/ex-boyfriend
Listen to a Grateful Dead bootleg, and write an essay about it
Google themselves

We would also spend time studying the rise and fall of MIcrosoft, Google, Nintendo, Electronic Arts.
We would read about Silicon Valley - its birth, growth, and effect on the Bay Area.

For the final exam, the assignment would be to find something that Americans are obsessed with, and explain why it has no real inherent value, (like Twitter for instance, or E!), and how it's existence leads to the devolution of human interaction.

***************

Douglas Coupland published his first (but not nearly his best) novel, Generation X, in 1991. It chronicled the lives of young disenchanted post-collegiate kids settling into jobs and life, and finding out it's actually pretty boring. Of course, the book's title gained global recognition, but the book itself...well, most people probably missed it. Coupland himself, while surely appreciating the irony, is a Canadian recluse who until recently gave few interviews, did almost no book readings, and never would have written the book had he known the title would turn into a stereotype. (Or, maybe he would have - maybe that would be the irony)

I first read about Douglas Coupland in the New York Times Book Review, on a Saturday evening while babysitting for my neighbors, the lawyer and his wife, who didn't believe in television, circa 1992. I sat on their lovely leather couch, listening to old Rolling Stones records, digging through their newspaper and magazine piles for the latest treasures... At the time, Coupland's second book, Shampoo Planet was coming out that Fall. The reviewer praised him as a voice of his generation, and did enough to convince me I needed the book. This, however, was not an easy acquisition in 1992: Amazon didn't exist; nor did the Internet, for that matter. And Port Huron didn't have a Barnes and Noble... At the library, the librarians had never heard of Coupland, but offered to research him for me. They later informed me the book "might" come in, six months after publication. I had no way of finding this book, let alone buying it. So, I put it on my Christmas list, in hopes "Santa" could figure it out. Luckily, he did (with what I suspect was important help from my father, an avid reader himself).

After obsessing over the book for a few months, on Christmas morning, I tore open the gift, and read the book cover-to-cover.

Any of my friends who are "readers" have certainly had this experience - where the book you read completely alters the way you think/feel/see the world and people around you forever. (Catcher in the Rye, A Prayer for Owen Meany are others commonly associated with this change of outlook.). For me, Shampoo Planet, literally changed who I was. Or, more accurately, reaffirmed my certainty of who I was and how I felt. And assured me, it was not so strange...not so strange if some Canadian 20 years my senior, could write a book about "my feelings" and articulate them just how I would want to, if I were a talented writer. As I read the book, I heard a voice and tone that felt as though Coupland was reading my mind... Suburban boredom, angst, sense of futility, absence of purpose, unecessary material accessories everywhere, meaningless human relationships with others simply because it was expected of you...

A brief example: before I read the book, I would look at my mothers living room and never understood the collection of Hummels (little German figurines, which I affectionately called her little Nazis)...after reading the book, I felt like someone confirmed I was right. Why did that stuff matter, it's just stuff...yet, to my Mother, they were treasures. While being such a small difference, it is the basis of every difference I have with my mother - she cares about how things look, while I care about how things feel.

Coupland, in Shampoo Planet, and in many later books, examines the connection between humans desire for material goods and advanced-technology, in place of human interaction and relationships...His short stories, Life After God, and his essays Polaroids From the Dead, examine our relationship with a god, and our devotion to things: pets, musicians, abusive lovers, fictional characters, families, media stars, tragedy, childhood memories...and how these all interplay with the "advancing technology" of our age...

His software-specific stories, Microserfs and J-Pod, though satires, are probably his most meaningful works. Microserfs, detailing cubicle dwellers at the early days of Microsoft, and J-Pod, combining eccentricities and post-Google culture of game-developers at EA Sports (or, whatever the phony name he came up with...)

2 things got me to thinking about Coupland today. 1st, I picked up Shampoo Planet last weekend when I was home in Michigan and decided to read it again. I haven't read it since I was in college, and I'm hoping that old familiar feeling of acceptance and inspiration kicks in after finishing it... 2nd, I found out tonight that Douglas Coupland twitters... This seems fitting....Perfect, in fact. And, though I often laugh and tease those who "Twitter," I have never been more excited to know the daily ongoings and thoughts of someone in my life.

"Its not about hatred"

People keep telling me, "Atlanta's not like the rest of the South." I take from that comment, that though I am moving from one of the most diverse cities in the world, I'm not really moving to a segregated racist place that still believes in the Confederate States of America...

Living in NYC, where a daily ride on the subway exposes you to people of all colors, relious backgrounds, and you hear 10 different languages other than English...I don't think most people even think twice about the race or ethnicity of the people around them. Stephen Colbert always jokes, "I don't see color." Now, he's being ridiculous, of course...but, I guess my point is - after living in NYC for 10 years, I see it, but I don't really care about it...

I suppose I should be glad that "Atlanta's not like the rest of the South" because apparently, in "the rest of the South" (August, Georgia) the color lines and stereotypes are alive and kicking...at least in Don "Moose" Lewis's version of the South:

The Augusta Chronicle reported on Tuesday that the All-American Basketball Alliance plans to kick off its inaugural season in June and hopes that Augusta will be one of 12 cities to host teams.

But here's the kicker: According to a press release the newspaper and other Augusta media outlets received from the new league, "only players that are natural-born United State citizens with both parents of Caucasian race are eligible to play in the league."

But don't worry -- its not about "hatred" -- its just about the fact that he thinks white basketball players have better manners than others:

"There's nothing hatred about what we're doing," Lewis told the paper. "I don't hate anyone of color."

Lewis pointed out recent incidents in the NBA, including Gilbert Arenas' suspension for bringing a gun into the Washington Wizards locker room, and said, "Would you want to go to the game and worry about a player flipping you off or attacking you in the stands or grabbing their crotch?"

Though, it sounds as though his ambitions for the league will be shortlived. Its 2010, and the guy doesn't even have a website yet:

The AABA apparently has no Web site, and efforts early Thursday to reach Lewis through the telephone number listed on the league's press release were unsuccessful.

Olympic humor...

This is kind of beneath the high standards I set for my blogging...

...but, when else is there opportunity for laughing at a bobsledder?