These old ballparks are like cathedrals in America. We don’t have big, old, Gothic cathedrals like they do in Europe. But we got baseball parks. – Jimmy Buffett
I miss Tiger Stadium. I miss the way I could see it as I drove to the game – even the ones at Comerica Park. I miss the way you could look at the field and just feel the history. I miss the way I would wait with my family to buy $5 bleacher seats. I miss skipping school on Opening Day to go to the game with my family. I miss the ramps I would run down with my cousins. I miss the chocolate malts. I miss saying Tiger Stadium when referring to the stadium. I just miss it.
I grew up there. My childhood started there. Two months after I was born, I was in the bleachers. I’ve been a fan my entire life and wish that I could share Tiger Stadium with my children someday, but I can’t.
The day they started construction to tear it down I wanted to do nothing more than cry. It was a standing piece of American history. And then suddenly it was gone. Fenway and Wrigley now stand on their own as a few of the historic baseball parks that are left.
As I drove down to Game 3 of the 2011 Division Series, I wished Tiger Stadium was still there to see how successful the boys had been. Sure there have been the ups and downs, but the last time the Tigers were division champions their home was Tiger Stadium. I wished they could be out on the same field as some of the Tiger greats. I wanted to be going to my first playoff game at the same place I went to my very first Tiger game. But now that can never happen and it makes me sad.
Some days I reminisce about being a “bleacher creature” and I remember the joy that Tiger Stadium brought me growing up. But then I remember it doesn’t have to be about the place the team calls home because “my” Tigers are still in Detroit and I just have to go a few blocks farther down the road to find them.