We’ll Meet Again on The Avenue

I grew up in the shadow of Tiger Stadium in Detroit.

I love that team, however sad the season. That may be part of the charm: In ’84, when they won it all, Detroit erupted in riots. We didn’t know what winning was like, and lost our minds. They will always be my Tigers.

But I have to admit: I have Shohei fever.

When Shohei Ohtani launched his 50th home run this season, I stood in my living room and shouted, “Yes!”—something I haven’t done in decades.

The last time I felt that kind of rush from baseball was when the Red Sox clawed their way back against the Yankees in 2004.

Baseball has a way of fading into the background sometimes. It revels in its summer laze.

But not with Ohtani. He’s brought something new to the game, something you can’t look away from.

50 home runs. 50 stolen bases. No one has ever done it, and I had the privilege to see it live. That, too, felt reminiscent of decades past.

It wasn’t just the numbers. It was the feeling that we were all seeing something we’d never see again.

It’s easy to say it’s just a game, but Ohtani makes it feel bigger. He’s not just playing baseball. He’s reshaping it.

I’ll always be a Tigers fan, and will bite my nails about silly wildcard prospects this month.

But there’s nothing prospective about Shohei. Just historic.