Destruction

Tiger Stadium sits at the corner of Michigan and Trumbull in downtown Detroit.

It’s old.

Old as World War II, worn-down tennis shoes and my grandfather’s nylon mesh General Motors hat. In America, we know what to do with old things. At least we think we know what to do with things that pass their prime. We destroy them. We abandon them until they look shabby enough to justify our destruction.

“Build a mall,” we scream. “Some condos would look nice.” “We could put a highway right there,” says another. “What this city needs is a new skyscraper.”

The wrecking ball rips through the right field wall where all of baseball’s greats once stood. The ground near home-plate—where Cobb, Horton, Greenberg, Cash, Kaline, Gibson, Trammel, and Fielder planted themselves before launching little white balls to the moon— is desecrated because of a city council plan to make condos.

Something’s missing in Detroit. Life is concentrated around work and home. Mundane universes often revolve around job titles, salaries and what’s happening with a son’s third grade science project. This is not bad. Having a job that is meaningful is life-giving and increasingly rare in today’s economic climate. Focusing on one’s family is also good because it’s a core responsibility.

But we don’t have a lot of other places. Church used to be an other place. Starbucks poses as one though I doubt its longevity. Tiger Stadium is a sacred space to so many not merely because of the games won (and lost), the athletes, the drama, and the great hot dogs. Tiger Stadium is a space where, for a few moments on a warm summer afternoon, men not known for their ability to share hopes and dreams were able to hope and dream together. Something to cheer about. Something to grieve. Something to look forward to next year.

The wrecking ball tears the walls, fences, cement, structures of Tiger Stadium. They not only tear what is visible. They also tear the things that are invisible. And, of course, it’s the invisible that is often more real than the visible. It’s the invisible that lasts beyond any of us.

I don’t know the answer. I only know that when our other spaces go down, we are never the same. The park, the library . . . or even Tiger Stadium. When we destroy—whatever it is we destroy—we are never the same. Today, that’s what I believe.

Wilderness

Since I mentioned an article ran by The Weekly Standard, I've been thinking about the implications of hope and belief in God's ultimate victory for places like Detroit. By Detroit, I mean everyone connected to Detroit (all colors, creeds, etc.).

My friend John York recently talked about this in a sermon. He uses the imagery of wilderness and points out that wilderness often comes before revival. Very interesting.

Mitch Albom, for completely different reasons, is saying something similar in this piece that ran in the Detroit Free Press and Sports Illustrated.

Here's a piece of that work:

And yet Detroit was once a vibrant place, the fourth-largest city in the country, and it lives in the hope that those days, against all logic, it will somehow return. We are downtrodden, perhaps, but the most downtrodden optimists you will ever meet. We cling to our ways, no matter how provincial they seem on the coasts. We get excited about the auto show. We celebrate Sweetest Day. We eat Coney dogs all year, and we cruise classic cars down Woodward Avenue every August, and we bake paczki doughnuts the week before Lent. We don't talk about whether Detroit will be fixed but when Detroit will be fixed.

And we are modest. In truth, we battle an inferiority complex. We gave the world the automobile. Now the world wants to scold us for it. We gave the world Motown music. Motown moved its offices to L.A. When I arrived 24 years ago to be a sports columnist at the Detroit Free Press, I discovered several letters waiting for me at the office. Mind you, I had not written a word. My hiring had been announced, that's all. But there were already letters. Handwritten. And they all said, in effect, "Welcome to Detroit. We know you won't stay long, because nobody good stays for long, but we hope you like it while you're here."

Detroit

I don't normally read the Weekly Standard. In fact, I don't know if I've ever read it. However, one good friend sent me an article written recently describing the complex, paradoxical world that is (Metro) Detroit.

Precisely what caused all this mess is perhaps best left to historians. Locals' ideas for how it happened could keep one pinned to a barstool for weeks: auto companies failing or pushing out to the suburbs and beyond, white flight caused by the '67 riots and busing orders, the 20-year reign of Mayor Coleman Young who scared additional middle-class whites off with statements such as "The only way to handle discrimination is to reverse it," freeways destroying mass transit infrastructure, ineptitude, corruption, Japanese cars--take your pick.

What's clear, though, is that Detroit has failed, that it's broken and cracked. It is dying. But it's not yet dead. Although it has lost over half its population since 1950, 900,000 people still live there.


While, I have take issues with some under-girding assumptions of the writer (a lack of historical perspective regarding the legacy of slavery in our urban cities for example) I think this piece captures the need for hope, not cynicism to be the primary attitude of Christians--regardless of denominational leaning, color, and creed--toward the future of Detroit (or Boston, Atlanta, Dallas, Nashville, San Fran, etc.). After all, The Book of Jonah is part of sacred text some people confess to be "God breathed."

How Bad Are the Detroit Lions?

The N.O. Saints went 11/12 on third down conversions yesterday. The only reason they did not go 12/12--they elected to take a knee at one point during the game. This stat is of particular interest to me and my fellow RC hoops alum because the punter for the Saints is a former teammate of ours: Glenn Pakulak (Pack-u-lack).

Yesterday was Glen's first-ever homecoming to Detroit in his NFL tenure and he did not get to kick in front of friends and family because he was playing perhaps the worst team in NFL history.
That's how bad the Lions are this year.

Their timing couldn't be any worse. We're proud of Glen for sticking to his dream (he used to kick in his spare time while he was at RC) . . . not so much for the Lions.

Kwame's Confession

The Mayor of Detroit, Kwame Kilpatrick, made a public confession last night for all of Detroit to experience. Below is an excerpt from the transcript. What do you make of it? To read the entire transcript go to FREEP.COM. I took out Carlita's (Kwame's wife) comments.

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KWAME KILPATRICK: Good evening, Detroit. I want to start tonight by saying to the citizens of this great city, I'm sorry.


To all of you who have believed in what we've been doing here since 2002, to all of you who have believed in me, in my leadership, to all of you who have stuck with me through very difficult times, to all of you who prayed for me: I'm sorry.

For the embarrassment and the disappointment the events of the past few days have caused you, for what you as my supporters, many of you, have had to hear as you traveled around our city to beauty shops and barbershops, what you had to hear when you were in church this past Sunday from people who know that you have supported me.

For those of you who have not always been Kwame Kilpatrick supporters, but who lift up our city, who live in our city, who support this town in various ways, I truly apologize to each and every one of you individually and to the whole city.

Most of all tonight, I want to make a public apology to my entire family, and specifically to the four people who I love the most in this world.

First, I want to apologize to my sons, Jelani, Jalil and Jonas. For the first time in my life, I had to have a conversation with my 12-year-old twin sons about very grown-up things. It was, without a doubt, the hardest conversation that I've ever had in my entire life.

Finally, and most importantly, I want to make a public apology to my wife, Carlita, who I fell in love with when I was 19 years old. We decided to build a family together, and we did that.

Our marriage has not been perfect, but it has been great. Now, I put her in a situation which many couples deal with in the privacy of their own homes, but in our case, it's on the front page of the newspaper. This dynamic, strong, caring woman has been forced to go through this very difficult experience because of me. I truly apologize to you.

As many of you know, I'm not the type of person who displays my emotions in public, but I have to tell you I've felt more emotion in the last week than I have in the past 20 years. I've been truly hurting. I've been hurting because I know that many of you are hurting. And most of all, I've been hurting because I know my family is hurting. And I'm responsible for that.

Kwame

Seriously?

I can't believe Kwame Kilpatrick, mayor of Detroit, could be this incompetent. Not only is he in danger of prison time, he's not even capable of breaking the law in an effective manner.

2007 was the year of big political scandal--Republican or Democrat notwithstanding. It looks like 2008 will continue the same song; albeit...with a different verse.

He didn't learn from Nixon, Clinton, or Barry Bonds. America is one of the most forgiving nations in the history of the world. But...one has to confess. Instead, Kwame lied under oath (federal offense) and is now hiding out in his Florida villa (I don't even want to know how be purchased that home).

I love Detroit. I want to see it make a comeback. This kills me.

So, I'm pleading with you, Kwame.

Kwame...please come clean with it. Face your demons. Let the chips fall where they may. If you care about the city more than the little kingdom you've created...this is exactly what you'll do.

This isn't a black thing. This isn't a white thing. This isn't a left thing. This isn't a right thing.

This is about being a man and a leader.