The Cowardly Tiger

Tigers owner Chris Ilitch was AWOL during the weekend celebration of Miggy Cabrera's storied career.

The Cowardly Tiger was conspicuous by his absence this past weekend, as the baseball team in town honored the greatest player of his generation—and of a few generations before that—Miguel Cabrera.

Where was owner Chris Ilitch?

I wasn’t able to see the festivities live, but I consulted video, scrolled through photos and publicly asked those who did see the pomp and circumstance: Did you see the owner on the field?

Gosh no, we didn’t.

I saw Jimmy Leyland. I saw Alan Trammell. Manager AJ Hinch was very visible.

The owner was a no-show—at least publicly.

Maybe Little I was in the clubhouse, a user of X said in response to my public query.

Maybe.

But last I checked, the paying customers aren’t allowed into the clubhouse. And Bally Sports Detroit’s cameras didn’t take viewers inside, either.

The owner needed to be present and accounted for, for all to see. This was a Mount Rushmore player they were honoring, for goodness sakes. Players like Cabrera come down the pike for a franchise once every quarter century—if that franchise is lucky.

I attended a special Al Kaline Day late in the 1974 season at Tiger Stadium, honoring Al’s final few games and his recently joining the 3,000 hit club. Tigers owner John Fetzer was there, because of course he was. It was a no-brainer.

It should be noted that the Tigers in ‘74 were finishing an ugly 70-92 season—flat in last place in the old AL East. I can’t recall, but I’m sure Fetzer got some boos that Sunday in late-September, for the state of the ballclub. But old John was there.

The Cowardly Tiger didn’t dare show his face in front of the large crowds at Comerica Park last weekend. Not much to be proud of lately, I guess. Little I is out of touch, but even he knows that he’s not exactly the most popular man in Detroit.

“I didn’t want to be a distraction. This was about Miggy, not about me.”

The above is what even I would have written for Little I as a boilerplate quote, should one have been requested about why the owner didn’t bother to take the field, not even once. It would have been trite and disingenuous, but there you have it.

Oh, how times have changed.

Two years ago, Lions owner Sheila Ford Hamp was booed mercilessly at Ford Field as the team honored new HOF inductee Calvin Johnson. It was cringeworthy. Today, those same fans would carry her onto the field on their shoulders.

But here’s the rub. Sheila showed up that day. She didn’t hide. She didn’t cower. Despite the decidedly unfriendly reception, the petite woman stood on the podium and delivered her remarks, seemingly undaunted.

Funny how so often it takes a woman to show the men how it’s done.

Don’t get me wrong. The Tigers put on a fantastic celebration. From embedding a large 24 in the outfield grass to having Miggy’s kids announce his name prior to his first at-bat on Sunday to Hinch giving Cabrera one last chance to play first base and everything in between, the weekend was done right.

That, and the Tigers took two of three from Cleveland to finish alone in second place with a somewhat surprising 78 wins.

Still, having the team owner ducking the slings and arrows that he knew was coming his way, despite the fans’ overall good mood, in order to save himself some embarrassment, took away from it all.

Some told me on X that it was good that Little I wasn’t there; that his presence would have drawn boos and would have marred the celebration.

As the late Jerry Green would say, Balderdash!

Nothing could have marred the celebration. The crowd was in a jovial, albeit melancholy mood. A few boos wouldn’t have stained anything. Hell, they boo the mayor every Opening Day and it doesn’t bother anyone—not even the mayor. But the owner was conspicuous by his absence. He was the elephant not in the room.

Often I’ve said that to compare Little I to his dad isn’t necessarily a fair deal. Fathers and sons don’t always share the same personality, the same interests, the same passion. And there’s no crime in that.

Yet it’s impossible to not make a comparison here.

Can you imagine Mike Ilitch being incognito during such a celebration, if he was physically able to attend? Of course not.

Miggy Cabrera had a special bond with Big I, which has been described as almost father-son like (ain’t that ironic?). That bond was very influential in the doling out of the now infamous, bank-breaking contract that only this year Cabrera completed, at age 40. The contract that we all knew would look bad in the rearview mirror. Some of us didn’t think it would look as bad as it ended up being.

But that’s OK. No use crying over spilled ink.

The last we heard from Little I about Miggy was late last week, when the Tigers announced that Cabrera would remain with the team after retirement, as a special consultant. Color me a little surprised by that development, by the way.

“Miguel Cabrera embodies what it means to be a Tiger, and I thank him for giving us 16 wonderful seasons representing the Olde English ‘D’ and our city,” Ilitch said—in a statement, of course, not in front of any reporters. “Miguel's historic accomplishments on the field truly make him one of the greatest Tigers in franchise history.” That last sentence was courtesy of Captain Obvious.

According to Little I’s own words, Miggy Cabrera “embodies what it means to be a Tiger” and the owner thanks him. Swell. Kudos for doing the bare minimum, Mr. Owner.

Why Chris Ilitch couldn’t muster the courage to show his face and accept some well-deserved but brief heat and actually take the field with the greatest Tigers slugger since Hank Greenberg, as at least a proxy for his dad, we’ll never know.

But we can guess.