And How Baltimore Bandwagoners broke my heart
The victim is on the table and she's bleeding out. It seems that her very life is leaking from her body like a sieve. Like Julius Caesar, she's been set on by those she trusted, those she held in high esteem, those who she thought she could depend on; close friends and advisers.
The EKG is closer to plains than mountains. It seems like everyone has given up.
The victim's name is America, and we're losing her.
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I recently had the pleasure of visiting the great city of Detroit, MI. I was struck by my visit there- but maybe not for the reasons you would think.
I was told once that Detroit was the heart of America. Within a few miles of downtown, one could find examples of each type of industry that was helping America lead the world's industry. Detroit was, of course, the home of the automobile. But one could find steel, oil, and manufacturing of every variety in close proximity as well.
Now, Detroit is the anchor of the Rust Belt. It's downtown skyscrapers, built by the wealth of the 20th century, now sit vacant in the 21st. Its population, drawn by plentiful work since the industrial age began, has now evaporated away: less than 10% remain from its height. But there's one thing that hasn't changed: the heart of the people.
I was in town for a baseball game. In a town that takes sports very seriously (when there is little else, we cling to those things familiar to us), I was the enemy. It was the American League Division Series. My beloved Orioles were making their second trip to the playoffs in 3 years, but only the third in 17 years. We had taken Games 1 and 2 at home (in Baltimore) and on a lark, the posse drove 22 hours (in a 30 hour period) to see our team play Game 3 away. It was a serious venture. Game 3 of a 5 game series means 'win or go home.' (or in this case 'win or stay home') so there was a lot on the line. The atmosphere was so thick you could cut it with a knife. And here we were, the four of us, deep behind enemy lines.
When we first arrived in Detroit, we took a driving tour of the city. Cory had been there the year previous on his way to California, so he directed us through the beauty and the horror that is Detroit. Even the cursory drive that we took showed a city ravaged by economic downturn. Three things came to mind. The first was images of Sarajevo in the early to mid 1990s. When I was in school, the Balkan conflict was on-going and fresh. I remember seeing images of the 1984 Olympic Games held in that city. The pride of the World was on display. Just a decade later, the Olympic village would house the forces of Oppression and genocide. The entire city was bombed out and in ruins. In Detroit, there had been no war, no genocide; but there was Oppression. Unfortunately, there was also Depression.
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The second image that came to mind was untitled pictures of some sub-Saharan capital city: Kinshasa, Mogadishu, Nairobi, Kigali, Dar es Salaam- the jewels of previous empires now laid waste by war and economic downturns. After World War 2, when the British, German, French and other European powers waned and independence movements sprung up, a continent of new nations was born. Whether it was a civil war that sprang from independence, a struggle for power between warlords, or an economy that was laid to waste by the previous two or the disconnect from the greater empire markets; all of these capitals now laid vacant and falling in on themselves. Perhaps Detroit has more in common with this example. Laid waste by abusive warlord Mayors who acted with contempt to the people and a desire only for their own wealth; and a disconnect from the economic power of the American empire that waned in the latter quarter of the 20th century.
The final image that came to mind was New York City in the fall of 2001: a city that had suffered the worst that could be imagined but had retained its soul and its will to survive. The unseen enemies had taken their best shot, but it wasn't enough. Even though the physical had been laid to waste, you couldn't crush their spirit. In NYC, it was 20 acres; for Detroit, it was 20 miles; but the sentiment was the same. Once we left the car, all of those things feelings were confirmed.
Our first stop was old Tiger's Stadium, i.e. Navin Field or Briggs Stadium. Although the stadium itself is gone, the historic field remains. The posse played catch on the same grass where Ty Cobb, Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, and every important player in baseball history played. But it was more than just the field that made this stop special, it was the people.
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We had the opportunity to speak to one of the members of the Navin Field Grounds Crew. This is one of those groups that I can't help but smile when I talk about. They are a group of baseball aficionados, Tigers fan, and historians that got tired of the eyesore at the corner of Michigan and Trumball Ave. At first, they were chased off by police, but now, they are thanked for their hard work in maintaining the old field (work that cost the city of Detroit $4mil a year between 2000 and 2006).
This guy was the greatest. He knew all of the history of the field, the neighborhood and the city. He had his opinions, he told jokes, he let us in on 'inside secrets'; you could not have asked for a better guide. I said after we departed, Detroit should have a toll booth before you enter the city where you spend 5 minutes talking to this guy. If they did, no one would leave Detroit with a negative experience. But we talked about more than baseball, we talked about the city itself.
I knew a little bit about the history of Detroit and its relationship with the state government in Lansing; but it was so interesting to get a locals perspective. The abusive, warlord-like activities of the mayors (gaining personal wealth, insider contracts, and pay-offs were common); the state involvement which made things worse instead of better; and the economic downturn he had seen in his life. The city he painted from his memory was a dream; what we saw around us a nightmare. It was his final comments that struck me though (and forgive me, I'm going to paraphrase him).
'That's Detroit though. We take a licking and keep on ticking. Yea, the jobs are gone, the buildings are empty, the people left- but you can't kill Detroit. We're going to be here forever. We've recovered time and time again, and we'll get past this. You won't recognize this city in 20 years, I bet you.'
Wow. I was stunned. What a sentiment. Like a heavyweight boxer, deep in the 12th round, getting up from a staggering combination that landed him on his back. But, with a smile on his face, he gestures towards his combatant beckoning him to take another swing. 'C'mon! Let's go!' Bruised and bloodied but not beaten. I looked around at the city and I'm not sure I could express the same. Seeing Detroit in that condition and hearing how it 'used to be', I may have been one of those that left for greener pastures. (That being said, knowing how I love Baltimore, I'd be in til the death too.)
We left Navin field, after parking in the old employee lot at the invitation of our guide, and headed across Trumbull Ave to McShanes and from there on to the game. For 4 hours, we mixed it up with the Tigers fans. They gave us a healthy amount of shit and we were respectful when the Orioles won (eliminating the Tigers). After the bus ride back to the car, I was stopped by a few Tigers fans in the street. They congratulated me on the win and encouraged us to do well in the ALCS. With a handshake and a slap on the back, we were on our way back to the car, and shortly thereafter, on our way back to Baltimore. Before we left, EP spotted what we thought was a ticket on the windshield. I couldn't help but laugh- karmic exchange for an ALDS win? I'll take it. But it wasn't. It was a karmic pay-off for being respectful human beings.
What a great feeling to head back home with. My faith in so much was rejuvenated that weekend. Not many people know, but I have this habit (hobby?) of writing speeches that I want to give someday. I have one that always pops into my mind called 'The Grinder'. Giving the speech to former maufacuring workers, most likely union guys, who have seen their jobs be outsourced over seas; the crescendo goes something like this:
So take out those Grinders [Detroit](enter city name here), because were going to take them to this old Rust Belt and give it a new shine. New manufacturing jobs! A stronger economy through modern manufacturing. Send me to Washington, and I'll send those back here to you! (hold for applause)
I wanted to do that for Detroit now. I wanted to reward every single person that stayed and endured. I took that sentiment back to Maryland. It inspired me to restart my writing here and my fiction writing as well. In the end, I want to do that for the entire country. I see my city, my state, my nation suffering and I want to help. I think I have some good answers for the questions and solutions for the problems (or maybe I'm just too narcissistic to see them for the bullshit they really are) but in any event, I want to lend my voice to the conversation.
postscript
The subtitle to this post came from my experience at my home stadium at Game 1 of the ALCS. Imagine that my last baseball experience had been 800 miles from home in a 'dangerous' city where my team eliminated the other team; but I was greeted with respectful prodding and in the end left with a positive impression of the whole trip.
Then Game 1 at Oriole Park came. The Royals were in town, and as luck would have it, I struck up a conversation with some Royals fans and we had that give and take that I had experienced in Detroit- except now I get to be the awesome home team. (I would like to give a shout to Ryan W., David O., and Caroline N. who I COMPLETELY forgot during the podcast but I tried to make up for that otherwise.)
Then, the bandwagonners had to join the conversation. This guy- wearing no Orioles gear, who knew none of the chants or cheers, and misidentified some of the players (i.e. a 'new', bandwagon fan)- who was clearly moody because of the light rain falling, chose to get very disrespectful to the Royals fans. It was begun by some general comments when the Royals went up at the top of the inning, and that's to be expected. We were all disappointed. But they took it too far.
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I'm a traveling fan. I've seen the Orioles play in several major league stadiums in difference cities. I've seen other games for other teams in other stadiums (wearing my O's gear of course). I like to think that, much like happened in Detroit, I am given respect because of the respect other fans get in Baltimore (and my attitude at those games).
Baltimore has, by far, the best fans in baseball; maybe the best fans in all sports (in which we participate). Unless you're a Yankees fan at a weekend game or going to a college night game (where the drinking gets the best of everyone) you can expect to get some playful jeering but for the most part a respectful, good time. I pride myself on that. We are a self-policing group and if someone gets out of hand, the crowd is usually the one to handle it. We don't stand for anyone's shit.
That's what I was doing at Game 1. I let it go for a bit, until it was clear that the Royals fans were getting uncomfortable. So I spoke up. I called the guy out on being a bandwagoner. I called him out on not knowing players, chants, or having any gear. I told him it wasn't those fans fault that our guys couldn't produce runs or get outs; that they were being respectful; and to shut his mouth and watch the game.
That, at least, turned his ire towards me; rather than at those fans. He and his group of friends kept saying things to me, of course, but eventually, the other O's fans shut them down and they left.
I tell that story to say this. To the bandwagon fans- relax, seriously. To Oriole fans, let's do a little more policing for Games 6 and 7 please. To Royals fans, thank you for being great fans and respectful to our stadium and city.
One final note: I appreciate baseball for what it is. Its a game, yes, and its a pasttime. It's something we do that brings us together and distracts us from everyday life. There are a lot of problems in the world and more specifically our country today. Let's remember that it is just a game and let it relax us but not blind us to everything else going on that we need to address. In Detroit and in Baltimore during these playoffs, I have seen fans of all types stand at attention and sing the National Anthem at the beginning of a game and sing God Bless America at the 7th inning stretch. Every time I hear it, I'm reminded why I keep fighting and keep educating. This is a great nation full of amazing people.
Like the citizens in the city of Detroit, we believe in this country, we'll never give up, and we'll always fight.
Robert Cheek ©2014
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