You can come out now, the regular-season nightmare is over.
I find you in the basement, hiding under a blue and orange blanket.
“Is it over?” you whisper.
The floor is covered with hot dog wrappers and empty Cracker Jack boxes. A Detroit Tigers cap is buried under newspapers.
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“How long have you been down here?” I ask.
“Two weeks? Three weeks? Who can say?” you answer. “I couldn’t watch it anymore.”
“Watch what?”
Your eyes bulge. You begin to tremble. “The … collapse!”
“Ah, you mean the Tigers.”
“Of course, I mean the Tigers! A few weeks ago, they had a 9½-game lead in the AL Central. Then it came apart like a cheap suit. They lost. They lost again. They blew leads. They made errors.”
“Yes, but −”
“They dropped a series to the White Sox. A series to the Marlins. They got swept by the Braves. And worst of all −”
“You really need to −”
“CLEVELAND! Good Lord! How many games did they lose to Cleveland!”
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“Well,” I say, “about Cleveland −”
“Don’t say that word! Oh, the humanity!”
You pull the blanket over your head.
Tigers slip into MLB playoffs
Detroit Tigers fans cheer on reliever Will Vest during the ninth inning against the Atlanta Braves at Comerica Park in Detroit on Saturday, Sept. 20, 2025. Vest allowed two RBI singles with two outs and the Braves won, 6-5.
“Listen,” I interject, “there’s something you should know −”
“Don’t tell me. The season is over, right? I saw this coming. The first half of the year was too good to be true. Our kids played like veterans. Our veterans played like kids. We had Tarik Skubal, the best pitcher in baseball. We were miles ahead of everyone!”
“Yes, but −”
“Don’t tell me. I know the ‘yes, but.’ Then we came back to earth. Actually, we fell back to earth. Actually, a meteor has a softer landing.”
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“If you’ll just listen −”
“Don’t tell me to listen. I know. After a while, I couldn’t even deal with the games. I just opened the windows every night and heard fans groaning down the street.”
“Wait. So you haven’t watched the Tigers in weeks?”
“No. Well. To be honest, I heard Skubal was pitching a week ago. So I crawled upstairs, found the remote, and turned on the TV, just long enough to see him flip a ball through his legs over Spencer Torkelson’s head. Ugh. It was like watching the old Lions in Tigers uniforms.”
You sigh. “After that, as Bill Murray said in ‘Stripes,’ depression set in. I unplugged the TV and radio. I buried myself in snack food and warm beer. And I tried to remember happier days at the ballpark.”
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I watch you rip a page out of the Tigers 2025 yearbook and wipe away a tear.
“So how did it end?” you whisper. “The final game of the season?”
“Well,” I say, ‘the Tigers lost, 4-3, stranding two runners in the ninth inning. But −“
“ARRRGH! STOP THE MADNESS!”
“But −“
“NO BUTS! THIS IS THE WORST!” You begin cutting your Tigers cap into little pieces with a pair of scissors. “I’M DONE! MY HEART CAN’T TAKE IT! I AM NEVER GOING TO ROOT FOR THE TEAM AGAIN −”
“They made the playoffs.”
You look up.
“Beg your pardon?’ you say.
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“It’s true,” I say. “Detroit made the playoffs by winning a tiebreaker.”
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“So they reversed their losing?”
“Not exactly.”
“They got the first-round bye?”
“Not exactly.”
“They won their division?”
“Not exactly.”
“They don’t have to play Cleveland anymore, right?”
“Well … “
“Well? WELL? What exactly did they DO?”
“They finished as the sixth seed. They just got in. They play a best-of-three series against the Guardians, starting Tuesday.”
“I see.”
“But, hey,” I add, “they’re in. That’s all that matters, right? As A.J. Hinch said, everybody’s record is 0-0 now. And Skubal gets to start Game 1. Anything can happen.”
I watch you contemplate. I see your brain working. Anything can happen, right? You’d never have expected the Tigers’ first half of the season before it took place. You’d never have expected their second half before it took place.
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You certainly wouldn’t have expected the Guardians, 15½ games behind on July 8, chasing the Tigers, catching them, then edging them out on the last day of the season.
It only proves baseball is unpredictable as weather. Maybe today is a second spring. Maybe it’s “Game of Thrones,” and winter is coming. You never know. You just have to let it play out.
“Get up,” I say. “Throw away those wrappers. Take a shower. Put on your Tigers jersey. We’re going to a ballgame!”
“Really?” you say.
“My treat.”
“Wow. OK!”
You rise. You smile. You pull on your Tigers cap.
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“As long as it’s not in Cleveland,” you say.
“Uh, yeah, about that …” I say.
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Contact Mitch Albom: malbom@freepress.com. Check out the latest updates with his charities, books and events at MitchAlbom.com. Follow him @mitchalbom on x.com.
This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: Tigers fans can wake up for playoffs, regular-season nightmare is over