“A Fan from Ferndale, Michigan got that one!”


Last Sunday, Sheryl and I went to the Tigers game with her brother, sister in law and nephew. After the game, her nephew was able to run the bases, and it was our first chance to ever get onto the field at Comerica Park.

It was exciting for us – probably as exciting as it was for her nephew. The line wound throughout the seating areas, and we had a chance to take a lot of pictures.

As we were filing out of the park, I had Sheryl stand next to the statue of Ernie Harwell, and took her picture. I took another with her and her nephew – and Ernie’s statue.

Little did we know that a few days later, the Detroit legend would lose his battle with cancer.

Everybody in Detroit knows Ernie Harwell. Everybody has an Ernie Harwell story.

And like everybody in the last 50 years who has grown up a baseball fan, I remember Ernie’s iconic voice calling the games of my childhood.

Oh, what a legend the legend became, though! People fell in love with Ernie Harwell because whether he knew it or not, he was with them through thick and thin. Through love and death. Through happiness and sadness. Ernie was always there.

Ernie Harwell went gently into the night. He went with the type of kindness and warmth that you would expect to see in a Buddhist monk. Ernie was a man just like any one of us. But through his legend, he became more than all of us.

People lined up outside of Comerica Park to bid farewell to the icon. The line existed for 15, 16, 17 or so hours. Grown man after grown man cried. People took pictures. Hearts broke.

Baseball is a game. Baseball announcers are just doing a job. But sometimes – and here’s your proof – one man can make a difference in his world. One man can cause tears of love to wash the streets of Detroit. One man is still just a man…

Unless you’re a legend.

The Righteous Brothers sang that “if there’s a rock and roll heaven, well you know they’ve got a hell of a band.” And if there is a field of dreams somewhere in Iowa, those ghosts now have one heckuva announcer.

I never met Ernie Harwell, but I am really sad that he's gone. Rest well, young man. Rest well!