Only in Detroit.

Only in Detroit can a city that has lost virtually everything in the past decade, in a city seemingly on its knees, a city that labors under the weight of being a national joke … can an historic moment in local sports be dangled in front of the populace, only to be snatched away … at the last possible second … by an absolute outrage of an incorrect judgement call by an official.

 

I was present with several friends, and among a barload of screaming yahoos Wednesday night when Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga worked himself and his team to within one pitch, one out, from everlasting history.  Never in the 100-plus year history of major league baseball in Detroit has a Tigers hurler tossed a perfect game … no hits, no runs, no errors, no walks, no baserunners of any kind.  It is the most elusive of probably all baseball accomplishments.  And here was Galarraga standing impassively on the mound at Comerica Park, as its frenzied fans were on their feet, screaming for the culmination of his historic gem.

 

Tigers centerfielder Austin Jackson had already added the unforgettable backdrop to the pitching masterpiece by making an astonishing over-the-shoulder catch in deep left center off the first hitter, and the first pitch, of the top of the ninth inning.  Our bar erupted in relieved screams and cheers at his magical grab.  Surely the perfect game would become real now.  The next hitter went down on a worm-burner to short.  One out to go.  Some guy named Jason Donald, if I remember correctly, is at the plate for Cleveland.  I remark “Who the hell is Jason Donald?  Doesn’t he sound like he ought to be the traveling secretary?”  Surely a perfect game CAN’T be stolen by a guy named Jason Donald.  And sure enough, it wasn’t.

 

Only in Detroit.

 

People are on their feet at Comerica.  People are going nuts in our jammed bar.  Detroiters are tuning in all over the city to see history made.  Galarraga throws a strike, which a guy named Jason Donald turns into a harmless grounder bouncing towards Tigers second baseman Carlos Guillen.  People are screaming at the bar, and at the ballpark.  Tigers first baseman Miguel Cabrera hustles in the hole for the slow roller, grabs the ball in front of Guillen, turns, and fires a strike to Galarraga who is streaking to first.  The pitcher catches the ball as he touches the bag with his right foot … about a split second before a speeding Jason Donald hits the bag.  Out by a step and a half in a bang-bang play.  Cabrera throws his hands in the air in jubilation, the winos at our bar — us included — go berserk.  A no-hit perfect game, the first in Tigers history!  And we were all there, in one form or another to see it!  Or were we?

 

Only in Detroit.

 

A first-base umpire named Jim Joyce, who looks like Don Cherry’s confused brother, hesitates a second, and then — amazingly, incongruously, bizarrely, unbelievably — throws his arms out in the historic poses of the umpire …. safe!!!  WHAT?  NO!   And not just NO!   But NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!   It can’t be.  Detroit is robbed, under the bright lights of Comerica Park, of its moment in history.  Of its moment in the national spotlight.  Galarraga is robbed of the highlight of his career, a proud moment that would have followed him, like a Medal of Honor, to his grave.

 

Only in Detroit.   

 

Another friend arrives in the bar right after the outrage.  He wonders what the hell’s going on — as he parked his car, people were running into the parking lot screaming; hollering in pain.  What happened, he asks?  Sit down, we say.  Another late-showing friend a bit later says he’s glad he wasn’t there to witness the pain of Detroit’s-and-Galarraga’s moment denied.  We agree with him, because everybody’s in a terrible funk.  The Tigers have won 3-0 on an alleged one-hitter, and a victory never felt worse, nor hurt more.  This newcomer says the umpire, Jim Joyce, is being quoted on the radio now as saying he made a mistake.  Oh really?  He says it’s his biggest call, the worst moment of his career.  He has seen the replays, we hear, and he now says the runner was obviously out.  We, none of us, feel better to hear it.

 

Only in Detroit.

 

I arrive home a couple hours later, still in a funk.  ESPN, making the non-perfect game their lead national story, features a reporter who says “Nobody feels worse about this than Jim Joyce does.”  And I think — bullshit, if you’ll excuse the term.  Armando Galarraga feels worse.  And even I feel worse, seeing our claim to history denied.  And the feeling echoes … again and again ….

 

Only in Detroit.