The Detroit News The Tigers on Saturday celebrated the 50th anniversary of the 1968 world-champion Tigers. Check out the complete video from the ceremony, courtesy of Fox Sports Detroit. Dan Dickerson opened the ceremony, introducing a video montage: The players were introduced: Detroit News columnist Lynn Henning shared his memories: Former broadcaster Ray Lane shared his memories: No. 6 Al Kaline spoke on behalf of his teammates: Jose Feliciano sang the national anthem: Gifts were presented to the players, and a moment of silence was held for the 1968 Tigers who have died:<doc-sep>Detroit — They threw a princely party for some special guys Saturday at Comerica Park. You might ask any of the 30,268 who turned out on a football Saturday why they showed up, expecting to be awed, like people revved to see Old Faithful or Niagara Falls. It’s because the 1968 Tigers were, like nature’s treasures, a phenomenon you had to experience to fully appreciate. If you’re looking for a parallel to baseball in Detroit and in Michigan to match 1968, forget it. The 1984 champion Tigers were a team of talent and dynamism so overwhelming they could start a season 35-5 and then wipe away the Padres in that autumn’s World Series. For pure baseball prowess, nobody touched the '84 Tigers. But if you want romance, and redemption, and chills, and catharsis, sprinkled with an almost daily dose of Hollywood script-magic, the ’68 Tigers are in a realm all their own. The '68 team was pretty much Providential. More:Watch the entire 1968 Tigers ceremony More: Two new books, including one by Mickey Lolich, celebrate 1968 Tigers The Tigers did it right Saturday, honoring 13 of the players from ’68 who are yet with us, highlighting their heroics with a wonderful scoreboard video biopic, and introducing them to a crowd that wanted to both reunite with ‘68’s dreamy season and to let those men know how much they were, and are — yes — loved. Al Kaline, Willie Horton, Mickey Lolich, Denny McLain, Mickey Stanley, Don Wert, Jim Price, John Hiller, Tom Matchick, Daryl Patterson, Wayne Comer, Dick Tracewski, Jon Warden — when their names were called Saturday, the ballpark seemed to rise, in voice and with a palpable, spiritual reverence for these men who did so much for a town and for a region during a tumultuous time. “I think you could tell by the reaction of the people today what we meant,” said John Hiller, who was a kid pitcher with the Tigers in ’68 and whose bullpen mastery, following an improbable heart attack two years later, became one of the Tigers’ best baseball stories from the 1970s. “But even I didn’t realize it at the time.” 'A wonderful feeling' Once the World Series ended, after Detroit had stormed back to beat St. Louis in the final three games and win a crazy-great World Series, Hiller began to understand. He saw not the usual fan-adulation for a championship team. He saw instead, gratitude, the kind of thanks patients and their families might reserve for doctors who have saved a loved one. And, oh, the Tigers saved something, to be sure, in 1968. They’re credited with rescuing Detroit — psychologically, anyway — following the devastation and death and destruction that a year earlier had marked what had been the worst urban riots in American history. "I think it’s a privilege for it to be thought that we helped hold the city together,” Hiller said. “It’s just a wonderful feeling.” With history as a backdrop, and with the Cardinals and Tigers wearing the same-style uniforms they wore in ’68, Detroit's front office handled Saturday’s festivities with admirable touches of grace and distinction. The Tigers even brought on Jose Feliciano to strum and sing the then-sacrilegious version of The Star Spangled Banner he released in Detroit during Game 5 of the ’68 Series. What was viewed as blasphemy 50 years ago has since taken on a sense of artistry and veneration. It was smart, if not genius, for the Tigers to have made Feliciano the pre-game’s National Anthem voice. For a final flourish, the Tigers had their own 2018 players parade to the infield’s staging grounds and present to each of the ’68 stars replicas of the ’68 World Championship trophy. More:With videos: 1968 Tigers sure were the life of the party More: Fifty years later, 1968 Tigers can't forget World Series-changing play This was special to a degree fans today can’t fully appreciate. The Tigers of ’68 played years before free agency arrived and made comparative peanuts. They got the usual World Series shares, all of $4,000, and they got rings. But that was it. In many ways, those was the only extras they earned during an era when many players needed to work offseason jobs to, well, keep up with the middle class. But to see what the Ilitch family and Tigers executives popped for during this week’s celebration, topped by those Saturday trophies, was to see a group of grateful senior players. There was no meanness, no sense of entitlement, to what Hiller next said. It was more comical than it was cantankerous, because if you knew how the Tigers of 50 years ago operated, under Jim Campbell’s penny-pinching watch as general manager, you knew what Saturday’s gifts meant. “Some of our old reunions were terrible,” Hiller said, and a man who has lived in the Upper Peninsula for decades was here talking about the pre-Ilitch era. “One year we got Timex watches, and before we got to the Bridge (Mackinac) the watch stopped.” Another year, he said, again emphasizing that it was before Ilitch became owner, the Tigers had a ’68 reunion and lavishly provided hot dogs, pizza — and pop. “We had to chip in and buy beer,” Hiller said. “Bought it at the ballpark (Tiger Stadium) and I remember it cost $42.16 for a 12-pack.” Those days, as Ernie Harwell might have said, are long gone. “The Ilitches have gone out of their way — and beyond — to do things right," Hiller said. 'You can't compare' Another one of those indispensable gents from Detroit’s baseball past, a man who knew the splendor of ’68 as a player, and then coached with the ’84 championship brigade, was also here Saturday. And you won’t believe Dick Tracewski. He looks, seriously, like he did 34 years ago when he was Sparky Anderson's first-base coach. He understood what everyone who was here for the Tigers’ last two championship teams appreciated. He knew why Saturday’s festival was filled with as many tears as smiles. “How could you compare?” he asked, rhetorically, of the two teams. “You can’t compare.” You can only say what some of us were saying Saturday about the '68 gang. That our lives 50 years ago were graced beyond any adequate power to explain. One might say it was simply a baseball team that achieved all of this grandeur and lore, and that any other exaggerations should be bagged. But the more some of us have thought for a half-century about the '68 Tigers, the more some of us are digging in, saying uh-uh, it was something more than that, with anyone's atheism their own business. lynn.henning@detroitnews.com twitter.com/Lynn_Henning<doc-sep>Detroit — At least a dozen players from the 1968 World Series-champion Detroit Tigers are taking part in this weekend's 50th-anniversary celebration. Naturally, though, the discussion prior to a Friday reunion luncheon veered toward those who aren't around anymore. Starting with Norm Cash, a slugging first baseman on the field — and an epic practical jokester off of it — who died in 1986. Denny McLain, the ace of the 1968 staff, told an epic Cash story to The News. "We were out in Anaheim and there was a convention going on of airplanes, and they had pulled a whole bunch of biplanes, single-engine airplanes into (our) hotel for a convention. They probably had six, seven airplanes surrounding the pool, big pool," McLain said, sitting outside a ballroom at MotorCity Casino ballroom Friday morning. "Somebody that night — I think I had pitched that night — around 3, 4 o'clock in the morning took all the airplanes and put them in the pool. These were airplanes worth thousands, tens of thousands of dollars! "And since I'm the only guy that flies, I get a call at 5 o'clock in the morning from (manager) Mayo Smith, and he said, 'You better get them (bleeping) planes out of that (bleeping) pool.' I said, 'What are you talking about?' He said, 'Somebody put all the planes in the pool and they told me it was you.' I said, 'I've been in bed since 2 o'clock, for chrissakes.' ... He said, 'I don't give a (bleep), you better get them out of there.' So I found out Cash was behind it and I went and got Cash, and Cash got about eight, 10 guys and they started pulling the planes out of the pool. To this day, I don't know if they ever knew who did it. ... When I walked out there and saw them (bleeping) planes ... I said somebody's going to jail. They really damaged some stuff. "That was typical of that club. They could have a great time at a one-car funeral. You can't imagine the great times we had with that ballclub, you can't. Every city was just a good time. I always said, hell, we're not playing ball, we're on tour. The only thing we don't have are instruments." More: Fifty years later, 1968 Tigers can't forget World Series-changing play Cash's most legendary moment on the field, of course, was during Nolan Ryan's no-hitter in 1973 at Tiger Stadium, when Cash grabbed a table leg to replace his bat. Off the field, he also was the life of the party. "The '68 Tigers, we did a little drinking, I'll leave it at that," said John Hiller, a starter and reliever on that team. "That kept us together. We did a lot of drinking on the road. I can remember Norm Cash would walk into the clubhouse sometimes and he looked like he was dying, completely dying. So he'd go in, get his bottle of Pepto-Bismol, shake it up, down the whole thing, and within a half-hour, he looked 20 years younger. "He could do that. He recovered better than most of us." Cash played all but two of his 17 seasons with the Tigers, retiring after the 1974 season. He had 377 home runs, which at the time of his retirement were fourth-most by an American League left-hander, behind Hall-of-Famers Babe Ruth, Ted Williams and Lou Gehrig. Cash died at 51 in a drowning accident off Beaver Island in northern Michigan. ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ Another big figure on that 1968 team not in attendance Friday, nor will he be for the weekend's activities at Comerica Park — catcher Bill Freehan, 76, who long has been battling Alzheimer's disease. His wife, Pat, is taking part in the festivities on his behalf, including during Saturday's pregame ceremony. Pat declined to talk about her husband's health Friday — other than to say, "I'm home taking care of my sweet Bill" — but couldn't help but smile when talking about that magical 1968 season. "It's very special. My three daughters are going to be here with me this weekend. One wasn't even born (in 1968), the other two were like 3 and 4 years old, or 2 and 3," Pat Freehan said. "For them to hear how special their papa was, their dad was, and how well he's remembered and what a marvelous reputation he has continued to have ... "It's a wonderful celebration with friends. It brings back many, many memories, and it's just good to see everybody." Asked if it feels like it's been 50 years, Pat laughed. "You know, it doesn't except when I look in the mirror. That's when it does feel like 50 years," she said. "It does fly and it's been a good, wonderful, beautiful, blessed life." Freehan played his entire 15-year career with the Tigers, and is considered arguably the greatest catcher in Tigers history, with five Gold Gloves and 11 All-Star appearances. He also, of course, made a name for himself at the University of Michigan, where his No. 11 is retired. Well, it was retired. Until his grandson, sophomore catcher Harrison Salter, started wearing it last season with the family's blessing. ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ A lot has changed in 50 years, and baseball is no exception. Back in the days of Al Kaline and Willie Horton and Cash and McLain and Mickey Lolich, ballplayers had to get side jobs in the offseason to make ends meet. "Which is probably a foreign thought to these guys, with what they make," Pat Freehan said. "The guys had to work. Bill worked for Vernor's, Bill worked for Dodge, Bill did every Catholic father-son banquet that was to be had for 100 dollars. They found out Bill was Catholic and he'd come for 100 bucks. I don't think these men would walk across the street for (100 dollars). Life was different." What was Freehan's most interesting offseason job? "Before (GM) Jim Campbell found out, they were playing basketball against, like, coaches and teachers, that was for 100 dollars, too," Pat Freehan said. "And Jim Campbell found out and said, 'No, you can't do that anymore. You could get hurt.'" The game, itself, was different back then, too. Better, says Hiller, a proud Yooper who doesn't like baseball's new rules — like no taking out a second baseman or shortstop, or no colliding with the catcher. Pitch counts can buzz off. He even dislikes instant replay. "Nobody argues now," Hiller said. "There was nothing better than seeing Earl Weaver or Ralph Houk or Billy Martin going out there, kicking the ground, kicking their hats, arguing. Jim Leyland was great at it. "That was an art, how to argue with an umpire, and that's gone." ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ It wasn't just the players who could be characters. Their manager, Mayo Smith, was a peach, too. "Mayo, he just let you play ball," said Tommy Matchick, a utility infielder on the 1968 Tigers, speaking earlier this week at a celebration hosted by the Detroit Police Athletic League. "Mayo was different. I remember a time when I was on the bench with Gates (Brown) and Mayo was sleeping over in the corner. (Pitching coach) Johnny Sain went over to wake him up because Earl Wilson was pitching that day, and he was getting tired. "So Johnny went over there and shook him, and Mayo goes, 'Well, what do you want John?' He says, 'We've gotta get Wilson out of here. Who do you want to bring in?' He said, 'Well, well, bring in (Tom) Timmermann.' Johnny says, 'I'd like to Mayo, but he's pitching in Toledo.' "There'll never be another ballclub like that ballclub. ... When were down (three games to one), when I came in the clubhouse that day, walked in the clubhouse, you thought we were up 3-1. Everybody was so positive, with all the guys we had. "It was just a tremendous team."<doc-sep>
Ron Gardenhire knows a thing or two about the 1968 Detroit Tigers — and about getting in trouble in class, too. It was fourth or fifth grade when the Tigers’ manager snuck a transistor radio into his small school desk in Oklahoma to listen to the World Series that season. The Cardinals were the only team that was broadcast in Oklahoma back then, and Gardenhire was able to listen to the game for a short while before his teacher caught him. On Saturday afternoon, many of those Tigers players were honored in front of Gardenhire, as the team celebrated the 50th anniversary of the 1968 World Series champions. It was the latest pregame ceremony the team aced — an emotional, classy tribute to a team that helped the city of Detroit recover from race riots — and it served as a legendary look back at a team that still means so much to the city. More:How 1968 Tigers soothed a rebellious city's racial tension Those former players in attendance — including “Mr. Tiger” Al Kaline, Willie Horton, Mickey Lolich and Denny McLain — were paraded around the playing field in Chevrolet Corvettes. Amidst two video tributes and three speeches, the best moments came when current Tigers presented the former Tigers with authentic, scale-sized World Series trophies. The presentation offered a picturesque look at the generational gap between the ballplayers. Tigers players wore 1968 replica road jerseys for Saturday night’s game, complete with high stirrups. “1968” was cut into the center field grass. But perhaps no moment threw fans back more than when Jose Feliciano delivered a unique, rousing rendition of the national anthem. Feliciano sang the national anthem before Game 5 of the World Series. Down three games to one, the team won the final three games — including two in St. Louis. Throwing out the first pitches were Horton, Kaline, Lolich and Mickey Stanley, who played as big a part of that World Series win as anybody: Stanley, a center fielder by trade, stepped in to play a solid shortstop in order for manager Mayo Smith to best utilize his lineup. The ceremony marked the third special event the Tigers had put on this season, and it went off without so much as a hitch: Saturday’s ceremony, as well as the uniform number retirement ceremonies of Alan Trammell and Jack Morris last month were top-notch. Playing time Gardenhire said that outfielder Christin Stewart, who has yet to be called up from Triple-A Toledo because the Mud Hens are playing in the International League playoffs, will receive everyday playing time when he gets to Detroit. Stewart, 24, hit .263 with 23 home runs and 77 RBI with Toledo this season. Contact Anthony Fenech: afenech@freepress.com. Follow him on Twitter @anthonyfenech.