DanMargarita.com

Why in the world would anyone take a vacation in Detroit? It's certainly a legitimate question.

Three friends, and myself who are also baseball fanatics, wanted to see Tiger Stadium before they close it down and move into a new ballpark next year. This was my first trip to Detroit, and I can only come away from it with a suggestion to the good people of Detroit:

Keep the ballpark, tear down Detroit.

Next season the Tigers will be playing at Comerica Park, keeping in line with the trend of new parks being partly financed and thus named after major corporations. This concerns me in that despite assurances from the Red Sox that their "New Fenway" will not have a corporate name, the team will one-day be playing in "Duracell Park" or "Kleenex Field."

Day 1: A $34 cab ride from the airport takes us past rundown suburban neighborhoods to a rundown downtown. After checking in at our hotel, we take advantage of the daylight hour to walk to Tiger Stadium, which is a mere ten minutes away.

Upon entering, I was immediately taken with the ballpark. It has Fenway's old-timey feel, although it also has Fenway's obstructed view poles for a few unlucky fans. The old-timeyness is made complete by the discovery of men's room "troughs."

Due to the nature and pace of the game the aesthetics of a ballpark matter more then the venues of other sports. Many parks are designed so that fans can enjoy a view of the surrounding neighborhood. Tiger Stadium is mercifully enclosed so that fans don't have to view the neighborhood. In fact, the ballpark is a good place to go to forget that you live in Detroit.

After the game, fans were treated to fireworks, which may have been a little disconcerting for neighbors to hear what sounded like a massive amount of automatic weapons being fired.

Being a guy's vacation, a cold post-game beverage at a nearby watering hole was a must (there was one tavern which looked like it might still have Ty Cobb's last empty beer bottle on the bar), followed by a cab ride back to the hotel, foregoing the ten minute walk.

Day 2: Two of the guys have made alternate plans so just Jim and I catch the late afternoon game. After the game it is dark so we try to hail a cab. Having no luck, we begin hoofing it down Trumbull Avenue.

Jim has been the main source of my paranoia about Detroit. He has been here twice before. His first time, on a bus heading to the ballpark, he watched a man get mugged. Two years ago, while leaving the game, he was robbed at gunpoint. The last place I want to be on a Saturday night is walking through the streets of Detroit with Jim. I hadn't run for a few days, but this trek was made at a pretty brisk pace and came very close to being a workout. Fortunately, Jim's bad luck streak seems to have ended as we arrive safely at the hotel.

Day 3: An unexpected surprise. The team is having a promotion allowing fans on a roped off portion of the outfield. A great photo op for John and Jane Q. Public to have their picture taken pretending to make a great catch over the fence (me included). Nobody seemed to want to reenact the not so great Tiger moment of Ty Cobb climbing into the stands to mercilessly beat a heckling fan that had the disadvantage of having no arms. When apprised of this fact, Cobb replied, "I don't care if he has no legs" and resumed beating him.

After the game it was another $34 cab ride back to the airport with a driver who insisted on showing us his resume, a three by two-foot rolled up paper.

I know I'm one of the few people in America considers Detroit a vacation spot. Perhaps next year I'll do something more traditional, like Milwaukee.