The Tigers Lying in Wait

By Tom Callahan

From beginning to end, Detroit dominates the American League

Sparky Anderson's "most special team," the American League champion Tigers, led the Kansas City Royals from beginning to end in a playoff reflecting the stunning baseball season in Detroit. Their 107th victory left the Tigers in the position of much of the country, caught up in the exquisite misery of the Chicago Cubs, if less out of sentiment than self-interest. By the grace of stadium lights and glory of television cameras, a Cubs conquest in the fifth game of the National League playoff stood to gain Detroit an extra home date in the World Series. At the same time, a completed comeback by the San Diego Padres figured to broaden the Tigers' national appeal.

This is the season that the Cubs, 39 years between pennant winners, 76 years removed from their most recent world title, played with people's hearts into October. The crash of 1969 was finally put behind. Before leading off in the first game with San Diego, Centerfielder Bobby Dernier consulted Shortstop Larry Bowa. "When do the butterflies go away?" he wondered. "After the first pitch," Bowa replied, so Dernier hit the second pitch over the leftfield wall. Speeding from first to third on an infield out, he eventually scored the opening run in Game 2 as well. Then the butterflies, San Diego and especially Steve Garvey came back.

The Padres had a right to gulp when they arrived in Chicago and found that the four makeshift umpires breaking the strike (and mangling the strike zone) hailed from the Illinois townships of Deerfield, Des Plaines, Northbrook and Arlington Heights. Anyone who could read the signs at Wrigley Field (MY HUBBY FOR A CUBBY) and the signals everywhere else around the country knew that there were few impartial observers anywhere. When the tournament shifted to San Diego, the amateur umps were brought in from Arizona, and the Padres were revived, 7-1 and 7-5.

Which is not to suggest the Cubs benefited from any whimsical calls--they won the Chicago games 13-0 and 4-2. But at least at that point it seemed that either everything or nothing had been left to chance.

Almost any other year, the Tigers would have been nearly universally cheered, for no sports town has been more forbearing and no city deserves more cheer. Sixteen seasons have gone by since the Tigers of Al Kaline and Denny McLain won the World Series, and the fans have withstood some bleak years. In Detroit, there appear to be only good times or bad. Record profits or deepening recessions. Windfalls or layoffs. When the Tigers were winning every day in April and May, it occurred to some that they could not possibly have been more in step with the city (unless, of course, they had been losing every day). Chrysler is up, and crime may even be down. Either Anderson or Lee Iacocca is the manager of the year.

In contrast to both the Padres and Cubs, the Tigers have been cultivated largely from their own garden, Second Baseman Lou Whitaker and Shortstop Alan Trammell striking their profitable acquaintance at double-A ball in 1977.

"When I first saw him," says Whitaker, "just the way he moved, the way he talked, his reactions--I knew he could play baseball." Gold gloves were predicted, but nobody expected Trammell to fill out from 155 Ibs. into a powerful 180-lb.

hitter whose home run and triple in an 8-1 victory over Kansas City began Detroit's sweep of the playoffs. Rightfielder Kirk Gibson homered in the second game and gathered hits in all three (.417) to be named the most valuable player. Lance Parrish, the bulging catcher, says, "I think the fact that so many of us have grown up together makes it easier to get excited for each other."

The Tigers did make a few trades and even enlisted a free agent finally this year, their first extravagant one, 16-year veteran Darrell Evans. Through aU of those seasons in the National League, he was a remarkably overlooked player, the first Braves captain after Eddie Mathews, the first Giants captain after Willie Mays.

As nobody recalls, Evans was on base when Henry Aaron hit No. 715 in Atlanta. But if he was merely on hand for dramatic events before, he is onstage for them now. With one Royal on and two outs in the taut eighth inning of matching three-hitters, Evans dived for a ball at first base and then beat Willie Wilson in a race to secure Milt Wilcox's 1-0 victory, which won the pennant.

Besides depth of pitching--Jack Morris, Dan Petry, Wilcox, Relievers Willie Hernandez and Aurelio Lopez--the Tigers seem to have a depth of depth. Their quintessential utility man, Marty Castillo, is listed as a catcher, though he is properly a third baseman who has played outfield and applied to pitch. With customary Third Baseman Tom Brookens rubbing a hamstring, Castillo has suddenly become a central character and beat out a double play in the second inning of the last game to furnish the essential run. He has a fine sense of mischief: "A few years ago, they came up to me and not.' said, Some 'You're a tune later, catcher.' I catching said, in the 'No, bull I'm pen, I trotted in for a drink of water and I'm they not.' said, I 'You're caught in the first leftfield.' ball I hit said, to me, 'No, rammed the wall and broke my kneecap."

With this kind of pluck and talent, the Tigers deserve to be favored over brand of enchantment.