2011
Government continues to use “War on Terror” to take away your rights
You may have missed it, but another big chunk of your liberty has just been taken away from you.
A new law gives the federal government and the executive branch far-reaching powers that strip you of rights that were guaranteed to citizens in the U.S. Constitution.
President Obama signed it into law on Friday afternoon before the Christmas Weekend. A clever maneuver to ensure it went missed by most of us. A nice little holiday gift from Uncle Sam.
HO HO HO!
The law is called the National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA), one of those nifty little titles that sounds so patriotic and necessary, but really steals your rights from you.
Under the NDAA:
- Our government can detain anyone they claim was “part of or substantially supported al-Qaeda, the Taliban, or associated forces, under the law of war until the end of hostilities.”
- The U.S. government can extradite accused terror suspects, even Americans, to other nations to undergo questioning and face charges of other nation’s tribunals.
- The military can arrest and detain suspects, as opposed to law enforcement.
- The accused have no right to bail, bond, or the due process of law.
These powers are not just scary, they violate at least five sections of the U.S. Constitution.
They turn the United States more into what we used to be fighting against – an oppressive regime that violates human rights. We are becoming what we once said we stood against.
And for what? To fight a war on terror that has been going on for more than a decade now. A war that has allowed politicians to sap our freedoms from us, bit by bit. That has been used to remove our guarantees of due process.
We now live in a country where a citizen can be accused of wrongdoing by the government (they don’t even have to say what crime that person supposedly committed), detained unlawfully, and held without the opportunity for bail for as long as authorities wish.
Is anyone freaked out about this?
If not, you should be. Today, Uncle Sam is herding suspected terrorists into detainee camps without charging them, and holding them for years without trials. This law makes it possible for the Justice Department or the Pentagon or the President, to detain anyone they suspect of helping the enemy until hostilities are concluded.
We don’t even know who the enemy is. We can’t define what the battlefield is, or who the good guys and bad guys are. Hell, we ARM the bad guys much of the time, only later realizing they’re bad.
How can our government be trusted with such powers? How long before citizens who criticize the war are considered as having helped the enemy?
The NDAA is one more step – a giant one – toward a nation where our rights are no longer granted to us, they are simply on loan from the government. Where they can be stripped and reinterpreted, suspended, and violated under the name of “defense”.
There is a bogeyman we should be frightened of, but it’s not the terrorist. We should be petrified of our own government.
Merry frickin’ Christmas.
2011
A double shot of life
I can’t help myself, I like to watch people. And I have a message for them – I see you and I’m taking note. Does that make me creepy? So be it.
Andrew Carnegie, the multi-gazillionaire steel maker, once said, “As I grow older, I pay less attention to what men say. I just watch what they do.” And what people do can be fascinating.
I sit in a coffee shop most days, for hours sometimes. I work from there, scribbling articles and stories about lord knows what, usually baseball. Frequently I’m helping a client fix their website. But, I am working dammit. People don’t get paid to stalk.
As I sit there, I’m afforded a front row seat for the lives of many people. Many of them are regulars, and they’re fascinating in their habitual existence: same time, same drink, same seat. Occasionally there’s a friend who serves as their prop – someone to talk to, to bounce their words off of.
Those words ricochet through the coffee shop and land on my lap. Or maybe “on my laptop” makes more sense. Often I can’t help but be witness to important moments. Like the time a man proposed to his girlfriend right behind me. He had balloons and flowers, too. She wasn’t as surprised as he thought she would be (women know everything). She still said yes.
Or there was the time a man was sitting on the couch with a woman in a cozy configuration. Leg touching leg, arm over arm, leaning into each other. Enter woman #2, at which point “mocha hit the fan” so to speak. Woman #2 ordered her coffee first (well the lines can get long) and then marched up to the poor sap. She apparently felt “You’re an asshole” was an appropriate greeting even though there was a group of 10-12 year old kids sitting nearby.
The coffee shop is an excellent setting for couples. It’s easy to tell when a break up is underway. One person is doing all the talking and the other person’s jaw slowly tightens. Usually a coffee is wasted too, as the person getting dumped ignores their latte.
Many times there are first encounters. People who previously had only exchanged winks, pokes, or nods on a dating site or Facebook are now sitting in the coffee shop hovering behind their plastic coffee cups. Nervous fidgeting, giggles, hair-tossing, and uncomfortable dialogue follows. I’d say based on my observations that 1 in 3 of these dates goes well. Usually the girl has to go somewhere and cuts it short. A few times, though, I’ve witnessed a couple perform the “getting-to-know-you, getting-to-know-all-about-you” ritual for hours. They might close the place. Both afraid to suggest a next destination, but secretly wanting to go home with each other.
Of course there are the weirdos and less fortunate, too. A burnt out drug addict who comes in and asks for hot water so she can make her own tea from Lipton bags she keeps in her purse. She can’t control THE VOLUME OF HER VOICE, and she’s asked to leave. It happens almost every time. There’s a quiet old homeless man who falls asleep in the leather couch. He and I make eye contact every now and again and I can’t shake the feeling that he’s silently asking me to give him my gloves.
There are young people, so many young people. Always in packs, groups of 5-10. Some of them are polite, some of them are so squirrely that they are incapable of sitting still long enough to drink their hot chocolate. Usually there’s one kid who seems to be the keeper of the money. “Cmon,” one skinny skateboard-toting boy says, “buy me a drink.”
The girls are different, they squeal and gesticulate about their lives, making it seem to an outside that they actually have lives. Of course, they don’t. They’re like walking Facebook statuses – searching for their friends to LIKE them, to validate their every move.
I have a few favorites. There’s a man who conducts his job interviews in the coffee shop. Once a week he has some eager soul sitting across from him, hoping to land a job. The man does all the talking, he’s so fucking narcissistic. Not surprisingly, he’s also full of shit. The job is for phone sales, which is the same as saying, “You’ll still be unemployed but I want you to call people and talk about my shitty product.” I still like this man, though. He repeats the same thing to every one of his potential “employees”. It doesn’t change, he doesn’t change, the outcome is always the same. Just like the backdrop in the coffee shop.
I like the people who work there. I get a kick out of seeing them day after day, seeing them rise and fall as we all do. One day they’re employee of the month, the next they’re bitching about the boss. That’s the way it goes. That’s life. They get to know me, they have no choice, I’m there a lot. They watch me from the other side – from the opposite side of the counter – and they make notes about me. But that’s fair, I don’t mind. I get my material, and the least I can do is be that strange regular who always orders his chai with vanilla and skinny.
They know I’ll be back the next day, and they’re right.
2011
300 words on chaos
Let me make a confession: I enjoy watching systems fall apart. I get a real kick out of chaos. It delights me to no end.
I’m not talking about people dying and suffering. That happens anyway, whether we wish for it or not. No, I’m talking about the failure of our man-made organizations and processes. I’m fascinated by our fruitless attempts to create order where there is none.
Case in point: the 2000 Presidential election. When it ultimately took five white men to declare George W. Bush our 43rd president, I was tickled. “See,” I said to myself, “the electoral system is a joke.” Eventually, it had to happen. It was inevitable that we’d see dueling lawyers examining little pieces of cardboard for something called “hanging chads”. That “W” eventually won the presidency despite fewer people voting for him, was beautiful. I cheer for such events.
Maybe that’s why I’m fascinated by college football. But only for about a week in December, when something they call the BCS determines the two best teams in the country and pairs them in a winner-takes-all contest in January. They use computers and three different polls of three different voting bodies. There are so many convoluted working parts in their ranking system that it’s bound to break down. Nearly every year it does. But it hasn’t been chaotic enough yet. Every year I root for 6-8 teams to be undefeated, or that no team goes undefeated. Maybe every team loses at least two games. So there’s no clear cut favorite. That would break the system down, create a chaotic scramble, and controversy would fill ESPN’s airwaves with experts screeching that their favorite college team got shafted.
I love when people think they got shafted.
Sometimes, the systematic failures are painful. The banking collapse of 2008 is an example. I don’t want people to lose their life savings, but the system failed in monumental fashion, and that fascinates me. It proves my belief that the more we try to control things, the more disastrous the results will be. It’s all the more delicious because the people who caused the banking failure were supposedly geniuses of finance. Fat cats wearing $1,000 business suits with PHD’s in business and economics. They rode the wave for decades, secure that everything always worked out. They were wrong. Unfortunately their miscalculations caused great grief for millions of people. I am one of those people, in a small way. My house was foreclosed in 2010.
Maybe that’s what I get for cheering for chaos?
2011
How five popular drinks got their names
Want to get a cheap laugh? Walk up to the bar and say “Bartender, I’ll have a Sex on the Beach, please.” Side-splitting and knee-slapping humor, indeed.
What’s in a name? well, when it comes to our favorite drinks, a lot. Many drinks are named for the place they were invented, like the “Manhattan”, “Long Island Ice Tea”, and the “Daquiri” (Daquiri, Cuba). Some are named for their ingredients, which is pretty boring, but descriptive. Witness “7 & 7″, “Jack and Coke”, “Lemon Drop”.
Then there are those cocktails with more interesting origins. Here are five.
Screwdriver
One of the most popular drinks in the world, the Screwdriver can serve as a base for many other popular drinks. The origins of the cocktail are clandestine. In the 1950s, workers on oil rigs in the Persian Gulf would work incredibly long and dangerous hours. So, of course they relieved the tedium with alcohol. Apparently, a few of them, some sources say a mix of Turks, Serbs, Albanians, American engineers, and maybe a Greek or two, poured orange juice and vodka into cans while working on the rigs. The name came from the workers using a screwdriver to stir their secret alcoholic elixir.
Outside the US, it is often referred to as “vodka and orange”, but no matter where you order it, the two base ingredients are the same. Variations include: the “Poor Man’s Screwdriver” (substitute Sunny D for orange juice); the “Tang Banger” (use TANG); the “Brass Monkey” (a traditional Screwdriver with dark rum added); and the popular “Harvey Wallbanger” (splash some Galliano on top).
2 ounces vodka
5 ounces fresh orange juice
Slice of orange
Fuzzy Navel
We have to turn our attention to an unlikely place to learn then origins of this drink. At the Wagon Tongue Bar in Omaha, Nebraska, the Fuzzy Navel was born in the 1980s. The 80′s were a time of renewed interest in highballs, cocktails, and mixed drinks. A liquor distributor named Jack Sherman came up with the concoction, made by combining peach schnapps and orange juice. ”Fuzzy” refers to the peach, and “navel” to the orange. A New York Times food and drink critic described the ensuing craze as “a kind of cult, rallying points for young drinkers in search of fun and not too picky about taste”.
By adding vodka to the fuzzy navel you turn the Fuzzy Navel into a “Hairy Navel”, the “hair” referring to the increased strength of alcohol in the drink.
1 1/2 ounces peach schnapps
orange juice to fill
Pour the peach schnapps into a highball glass filled with ice cubes, top with orange juice, stir well.
Talk about an interesting tale, the story of how Tom Collins came about is bizarre and traces back to a much different time in American society.
In Pennsylvania in the 19th century, Tom Collins was the name given to a fictional bogeyman who gossiped about locals. Patrons in pubs and restaurants would sprinkle their conversation with “Have you seen Tom Collins?” And, eventually, to be “known by Tom Collins” was to imply that someone was talking about that person. Newspapers ran hoax stories claiming to be about the real Tom Collins, who invariably was in trouble of some sort. It became so popular that “Tom Collins folk songs” were written and performed on stages all over the east coast. By the mid-1870s Tom Collins had a secure place in American folk lore.
The first confirmation of a Tom Collins drink in print was in the “Bartender’s Guide”, published in 1876 by famous bartender Jerry Thomas. With his flashy methods of mixing cocktails (twirling glasses, juggling bottles, etc.) Thomas popularized the “Tom Collins” and soon it spread throughout the U.S.
2 ounces gin
1 ounces lemon juice
1 tsp superfine sugar
3 ounces club soda
1 maraschino cherry
1 slice orange
In a shaker half-filled with ice cubes, combine the gin, lemon juice, and sugar. Shake well. Strain into a collins glass almost filled with ice cubes. Add the club soda. Stir and garnish with the cherry and the orange slice.
Margarita
Some claim this popular drink is named for a beautiful woman who broke a bartender’s heart. Though that sounds gut-wrenchingly poetic, it’s probably hokum. Bartender Don Carlos Orozco has the strongest claim of ownership. In his cantina in Ensanada, Mexico, in 1941, Orozco was experimenting with ingredients, when a local woman named Margarita Henkel, the daughter of a prominent official, ambled in. Henkel gladly slurped up one of Orozco’s mixtures. When she expressed satisfaction and other patrons began to request the same, the bartender dubbed it “Margarita” after the woman. The first Margarita’s were equal parts tequila, orange liqueur and lime, served over ice in a salt-rimmed glass. However, some historians (who spend their time searching for the birth of drinks?) argue that the Margarita is nothing more than an earlier American drink with a twist. “The Daisy” had teh same ingredients except it used brandy instead of tequila. It debuted sometime in the 1930s. Whoever invented it, we’re glad it was or there would be millions of women who wouldn’t know what to order at Mexican restaurants.
1 ounce tequila
dash of Triple Sec
juice of 1/2 lime or lemon
Pour over crushed ice, stir. Rub the rim of a stem glass with rind of lemon or lime, spin in salt—pour, and sip.
White Russian
Like other vodka-based drinks, the White Russian gets its’ name not because it is Russian in origin, but that vodka is associated heavily with Russia. The White Russian is actually a derivative of the Black Russian, which first appeared popularly in 1949. The addition of cream makes a Black Russian a White Russian. So, just like zebras started out black, all White Russians are Black until we spill in the creme.
2 ounces vodka
1 ounces coffee liqueur
light cream
2011
300 words on creating art
Create something, people. Anything. Don’t say you’re not a good artist or painter, or that you suck at writing. Quality isn’t the point, the creation is. If the quality of the creation was so important, God would get a terrible review of his work. Human beings are meant to create art, and art can be anything. Sewing, painting, sculpting, singing, writing, dancing, there are so many ways to make this confusing place more interesting. Why should the art “genius” and classically trained artists be the only one’s who get to have the fun? Stop putting yourself down and pick up the brush, pen, or whatever instrument you need. Creating your art is the point, just as walking the path is the point, not the destination.
2011
The toughest players in Red Wings history
Fighting in hockey isn’t what it used to be, with officials stopping fisticuffs as quickly as they can before it gets too out of hand.
But there was a time when fighting was a huge part of the game. Every team had at least one player who could swing his fists and do some damage – an enforcer who was on the roster to protect the better players on the team. Often, these players had long careers as expert punchers. Their ability to spin in a circle on skates and simultaneously deliver blows on opposing players was valued by team officials and exciting to rabid fans.
The Red Wings have had a long history of great enforcers. Here’s my choice for the toughest to ever wear the Red Wing sweater.
5. Darren McCarty
McCarty was known more for his fists than his scoring ability, taking on the role of the Red Wings enforcer most of his career, a role in which he won four Stanley Cups in 1997, 1998, 2002, and 2008, the last of which after resurrecting his career in the Red Wings minor league system. Perhaps no other player in franchise history loved being a Detroit Red Wing more than McCarty.
4. Ted Lindsay
Though Lindsay scored over 800 points in his Hall of Fame career, won the Art Ross Trophy in 1950 for leading in scoring, and won the Stanley Cup four times with Detroit, he’s legendary as “Terrible Ted” – the enforcer who played on the famous “Production Line” with Sid Abel and Gordie Howe. His rough play led the NHL to develop penalties for ‘elbowing’ and ‘kneeing’.
3. Joey Kocur
Known for his extreme physical play, Kocur was one of the most penalized players in NHL history, amassing a total of 2519 penalty minutes in a career that spanned from 1983 to 1999. One opponent described how Kocur had cracked his helmet with his punches, and though his helmet had absorbed most of the blow, he still felt serious pain in his gums, even on the other side of his face, leaving him unable to eat for two days. Kocur’s punches often seriously injured opposing players, such as Brad Dalgarno of the New York Islanders, whose orbital bone, cheek bone, and jaw were fractured by Kocur.
2. Gordie Howe
When Howe entered the NHL in the the years after World War II, there were just six teams in the league. Players on opposing clubs were very familiar with each other, and newcomers were always tested for their mettle. The Canadian was a skilled skater and scorer, and when he joined the Wings as a rookie at the age of 18, older veteran players targeted him. But Howe was big, tough, and fearless. Howe fought so often in his rookie season that coach Jack Adams told him, “I know you can fight. Now can you show me you can play hockey?” The term Gordie Howe hat trick (consisting of a goal, an assist, and a fight) was coined in reference to his penchant for fighting. A Hall of Fame for his amazing scoring records, and arguably the greatest player to ever lace on skates, Howe was also a tough player who would fight when he had to.
1. Bob Probert
No player had more altercations and controversy on the ice (and off) for the Detroit Red Wings than Probert. Among his fighting and enforcer highlights: Probert once traded punches with Marty McSorly of the Penguins for nearly two minutes; he had a series of bouts with fellow enforcers Craig Coxe, Tie Domi, and Wendell Clark. With teammate Joey Kocur (#3), Probert formed the infamous “Bruise Brothers” on the Red Wings in the 1980s and early 1990s. Laterm when they were playing against each other after both leaving Detroit, Kocur and Probert traded punches on the ice during a melee.
2011
What Black Friday says about America
It’s legal to camp outside of a Wal-Mart to get the best deal. It’s illegal to camp in a public park to promote discussion about democracy.
It’s legal for thousands of crazed shoppers to swarm a Best Buy to grab the latest electronic gadget at 40% off. It’s illegal to be a “mob” on a college campus carrying signs or peacefully protesting injustice.
Corporations spend hundreds of millions to promote “Black Friday”, but “Occupy Anyday” is treated as a bunch of lazy hippies who should get jobs – apparently so they can buy more stuff.
Whether or not you agree with the Occupy Wall Street crowd, it says something about America that we think nothing of people popping their tents up on the sidewalks and parking lots of our local big-box stores, while the government rounds up, harasses, arrests, and pepper sprays the OWS folks for doing the same in parks.
“I think they should shower and get a job,” are the words Newt Gingrich has spit out at the OWSers. “Go home and get a job and get a life!” Herman Cain hollers.
No mention of whether or not the frenzied consumerism on display at Wal-Marts and Best Buys across America on Black Friday is good for America or not.
Of course it’s not. What does it say about our nation that we froth at the mouth to get to department stores to buy unneeded gadgets, but we turn our noses up at people who want to bring up social issues (regardless of the merit of their argument)?
It says we’re not headed toward a bright future where intelligent debate and meaningful change are considered, but rather that we’re headed down another aisle filled with big screen TVs, toys, and iThings.
2011
Verlander wins Most Valuable Player Award
“It doesn’t really matter [who the opposing pitcher is], if I go out and do what I’m supposed to do, things take care of themselves.”
In 2011, Justin Verlander followed his own advice and took care of things. As a result he was named the American League’s Most Valuable Player on Monday.
The tall right-hander becomes the fourth Tiger pitcher to earn the MVP Award, joining Hal Newhouser, Denny McLain, and Willie Hernandez. Newhouser, a member of the National Baseball Hall of Fame, did it twice: in 1944 and 1945. Hernandez was a relief pitcher who won the award in 1984.
In his sixth full big league season, Verlander is the first starting pitcher to win an MVP since Roger Clemens in 1986. The last NL pitcher to do it was Hall of Famer Bob Gibson in 1968, the same season McLain won 31 games on his way to the award.
Many of baseball’s greatest pitchers of the last 50 years never won an MVP: Tom Seaver, Steve Carlton, Nolan Ryan, Jim Palmer, Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, Randy Johnson, and Pedro Martinez. There was much debate in 2011 over whether a starting pitcher should win the award, since the Cy Young (which Verlander also won) is available to hurlers.
Verlander’s manager Jim Leyland caused a bit of a stir during the season when he said pitcher’s shouldn’t win the MVP, but he later admitted that if anyone deserved it, it was Verlander. Since the introduction of the Cy Young Award in 1956, fewer starting pitchers have won the MVP.
Verlander was on his game almost every time he toed the rubber for the Tigers this past season, winning 16 times after a Tiger loss, pitching a quality start (at least six innings and less than three runs) in 28 of his 34 starts, and never once pitching less than six innings. His value in saving the workload on the Tiger bullpen was one of the reasons he garnered the rare MVP as a starting pitcher.
Another reason was the fact that he captured baseball’s pitching Triple Crown – leading the league in wins, strikeouts, and ERA. His win total of 24 was the highest in the American League in 21 years, and the most by a Tiger since Mickey Lolich’s 25 forty years ago.
A first round draft pick (second overall) by the Tigers back in 2004, Verlander has used his incredible fastball and curve to throw two no-hitters, his second coming on May 7 in Toronto against the Blue Jays.
“He seems to have no-hit stuff each time he goes out there,” said teammate Jhonny Peralta. In fact, Verlander took three no-hitters as far as the seventh inning in 2011.
With the Cy Young Award and now the MVP on his resume, Verlander is in rare air among pitchers. In the next few seasons, the Tiger ace will attempt to add more gaudy numbers and honors to his amazing accomplishments.
2011
Baseball’s Most Valuable Player Award began in Detroit
Today we’ll find out if Justin Verlander will win baseball’s most coveted prize: the Most Valuable Player Award. If he does he’ll bring the honor full-circle, since the MVP was the brainchild of a Detroit businessman and the first award was won by a Detroit ballplayer.
In the spring of 1910, Hugh Chalmers had a brilliant notion to capitalize on the popularity of baseball in the city of Detroit. As president of the Chalmers Automobile Company, he decided to give away one of his prized automobiles to the batting champion in the American League. He hoped the publicity would propel his company to the front of a growing pack of auto companies in what was fast becoming “Motor City”.
famously (or infamously depending on who you were rooting for), the 1910 “Chalmers Award” brought controversy. On the final day of the season, St. Louis Browns manager Jack O’Connor ordered his infielders to play deep, allowing Cleveland’s Napoleon Lajoie to accumulate eight hits in a doubleheader, winning the batting title by a slim margin over Detroit’s Ty Cobb.
O’Connor, like many in the American League, was not a big fan of “The Georgia Peach” because of his style of play and brash demeanor. Nevertheless, what O’Connor and his Browns did was unfair, and AL president Ban Johnson quickly interceded, awarding Cobb the batting title. He also banned O’Connor and his coach Harry Howell (who tried to bribe the official scorer to change an error to a hit for Lajoie) from baseball for life.
Ironically, the scandal was good press for Chalmers, who gave a car to both Cobb and Lajoie, orchestrating an elaborate photo opp with both. In 1911, however, Chalmers and Johnson would have a better idea for the award.
Starting in 1911, the Chalmers Award would be given to the player “most important and useful player to the club and to the league”. A group of sportswriters would do the voting.
It so happens that Cobb had his best season in 1911, batting .420 while leading the league in almost every offensive category. Not only did he hit for an amazingly high mark, he swiped 83 bases and drove in 127 runs. One observer noted that Cobb played as if he had “brains in his feet.”
There was an unwritten rule that a player could not win more than one Chalmers Award, so Cobb never received another, though he could have won three or maybe even four in the four years it was given, though 1914.
After the 1914 campaign, having seen little increase in his sales due to the award, Hugh Chalmers halted the program. The last winners were Eddie Collins and Johnny Evers. In all, five of the eight Chalmers Award winners would go on to be elected into the Hall of Fame.
It wouldn’t be until 1922 that the idea of an MVP Award would come back, but there has been at least one honor given every year since, except in 1930.
Thanks to one of Detroit’s savviest businessmen, the MVP was born 100 years ago, and it was a Detroit superstar who won the first award.
2011
How a forest fire may have cost the Tigers the 1950 pennant
From 1948 to 1960 the Detroit Tigers finished higher than fourth place in the eight-team American League just once. It was the longest stretch of mediocrity in franchise history up to that point.
But there was one season in that span when the Tigers enjoyed success, almost sneaking a pennant away from the vaunted New York Yankees. If not for a strange play in Cleveland that was affected by a Canadian forest fire, Detroit may have won the flag in 1950.
The 1950 Tigers were managed by Robert “Red” Rolfe, a baseball lifer who knew something about winning. As a third baseman he won five World Series titles in the pinstripes of the Yankees, playing alongside Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio, Bill Dickey, Lefty Gomez, and Red Ruffing. Rolfe was a keen student of the game – an Ivy League graduate – who excelled at in-game managing.
Like the Yankees of the 1930s, Rolfe’s 1950 Tiger squad was loaded with lumber. Third baseman George Kell was the defending batting champion, and he hit .340 in ’50 to pace the team. Three other Tiger regulars – the starting outfield of Hoot Evers, Vic Wertz, and Johnny Groth – also hit over .300. Kell, Wertz, and Evers each drove in at least 100 runs.
The Tigers ranked third in runs scored and fewest runs allowed. The team directly in front of them in both of those categories – the Yankees – shadowed Detroit in the standings all year. The Tigers used a 21-9 record in June to forge a lead as large as 4 1/2 on the Yanks. A strong foursome of Hal Newhouser, Art Houtteman, Fred Hutchinson, and Dozzy Trout led the Bengal rotation.
At the All-Star break the Tigers led the race by three games. At the end of July the Yanks had caught them and the Cleveland Indians were just two games behind.
On Sunday, September 24, the Tigers were finishing a three-game set in Cleveland against the Indians, who had fallen out of the pennant race. The Tigers were a game-and-a-half behind the Yankees with eight games to play.
The game was tied at 1-1 in the 10th when the wind over Lake Erie came into play on the field. Earlier that weekend forest fires had roared through Canada across Lake Erie to the north. The winds blew south on Sunday, sending clouds of smoke over the city of Cleveland. By the late innings it was difficult to see. When Bob Lemon tripled to open the 10th (yes, the starting pitcher was still in the game and batting!), Rolfe walked the next two batters to set up a double play. Larry Doby popped out for the first out, bringing up Luke Easter. easter hit a routine grounder to first baseman Don Kolloway, who stepped on the bag for the second out. He returned the ball toward home plate and catcher Aaron Robinson. But Robinson, blinded by the smoke floating in from Lake Erie, didn’t see that Kolloway tagged the bag. He thought the force play was still in effect at home. As a result, he simply touched the plate, thinking he’d recorded the second out. But the force at first had meant that Robinson needed to tag Lemon coming into home. He did not, of course, and Lemon scored the winning run.
The Tigers lost the game, 2-1, having been swept by the Indians. The Yankees won and increased their lead to 2 1/2 games. The Tigers won four of their last seven games, but were eliminated on the next Friday. They won 95 games, their highest total in years, but they’d fallen short of the Yankees, who went on to win the World Series.
When he was dismissed as manager less than two years later, Rolfe cited the “smoky loss” in Cleveland in 1950 as a turning point in his tenure.
“We lost a bizarre game, [the] strangest I ever saw,” Rolfe sighed. “We never played another big game in my time in Detroit, sadly.”