Dear Baseball: A Letter from Javier Báez

It might sound cliché, but you’ve been an important part of my life ever since I was a kid in Bayamón.

In my case, it’s not cliché… but my reality.

You helped me stay focused and disciplined in what I wanted to do. To value life, and consequently, to keep myself away from the problems that exist in the streets and led many off the right path.

You also taught me how to have fun, and I could even say you saved my life.

And it’s because you created a family bond and were the key factor for us to move to Jacksonville in search of better conditions to help our sister who had a disability. You were a blessing to us and the driving force that helped me focus on helping my family and especially her.

You’re the reason for my first tattoo, for the love of the game, back when I was just a teenager not knowing if I would make it to the Major Leagues.

You have taken me to experience glory, helping my team celebrate after the last game of the year and become a World Series Champion.

And you also brought me to Detroit, the Motor City… to play for an organization with a fan base eager to win. One that celebrates every victory like it’s the most important of the year and suffers each loss like the worst.

Because for me talking about Detroit is talking about baseball.

It’s talking about adapting and recovering from adverse situations, about getting through difficult moments with willpower and focusing on the goal of sending it high and far. That’s how my time in this city has been, and I can say that the bad moments are behind me thanks to my family, my teammates, my coaches, and everyone who has helped me give my best.

And of course thank you to the fans, who have been with us day by day, and who are part of making this season so fun for us.

But there’s more left… We’re in the final home stretch so that the roar in Comerica Park can be heard again in October.

Baseball? Baseball has given me so much… And the best part… Is yet to come…

Dear Detroit: A Letter from Mr. Willie Horton

Willie Horton here… From the bottom of my heart, I want to say thank you… for the journey, the challenges, the triumphs, and the love. Detroit has always been more than just where I played baseball—it’s where I was raised up, where I overcame obstacles, and where I learned what it meant to stand up for the people and community that I love. I was just a kid from the Jeffries Projects, standing on the field at Tiger Stadium, dreaming of a future. A future shared with mentors, friends and teammates including Judge Keith, Coach Thompson, Jake Wood, Al Kaline and Mr. Ilitch.

During my 18-year Major League career, 15 of them proudly played with the Detroit Tigers, I hit 325 home runs, drove in 1,163 runs, and was named to four All-Star teams. But the numbers don’t tell the whole story. In 1968, when we won the World Series, it wasn’t just about baseball, it was about healing a divided city. I’ll never forget the joy that championship brought, or how our team, made of men from all walks of life, stood together as one. That’s what baseball has always meant to me—a way to bring people together no matter who we are or where we come from.

I carry with me deep respect or those who came before me—the legends of the Negro Leagues who changed the game forever and are now being recognized in Major League Baseball’s history books. Men like Norman “Turkey” Stearnes, Pete Hill and Ron Teasley played with heart, grace, and unmatched talent in Detroit (and Mr. Teasley later became my schoolteacher). Their legacy lives in every inning that I played.

I have faced my share of struggles, too. Not because of who I was, but because of the color of my skin. But I never let that stop me. Those experiences made me the man that I am. I played the game and have lived my life with purpose and resolve. I believed in the game and in the people watching from every corner of the city—black, white, rich, poor—because I knew baseball could bring us together when the world tried to pull us apart.

When I stood on a car in my uniform during the 1967 riots, pleading for peace, I didn’t do it because I was a ball player. I did it because I was a Detroiter who loved his community. Baseball gave me a voice, but Detroit gave me the heart to use it. And through all the changes and challenges, I still believe in the power of this game. It teaches patience, teamwork, courage, and forgiveness. It belongs to all of us, no matter where we come from, and I’m so blessed that Tigers fans have allowed me to become part of their families. The love we share for the game runs deeper than the scoreboard—it lives in the stories, the memories, and the hope we pass to the next generation.

Dear Mom: A Letter from Jack Flaherty to His Mom on Mother's Day

Dear Mom,

Thank you for instilling the idea of greatness in me, not because of who I am, but because of who you are. Every step of the way you’ve shown me what it means to be determined and pursue one’s goals relentlessly. You are selfless, hard-working, caring and loving—you are a friend and mother to everyone you encounter.

From your countless volunteer roles when I was in Little League to giving up weekends, holidays, and especially many Mother’s Days, you have always sacrificed in order to help me put in the work that was necessary to reach my goals.

It’s always a comfort to hear your voice over the crowd wherever I play. I don’t know how, but I’m always able to pinpoint your voice distinctly. You never fail to remind me why I love this game. It was always meant to be fun.

The hug. That simple act means the world to me. Win or lose, good game or bad game, I know when you hug me back, I’m just your son. Your unconditional love and support allow me to play freely, and I can’t ever say thank you enough for that gift alone.

I truly owe all of this to you. You started taking me to games when I was just 6 months old. We finally got our full circle moment last October. Winning a World Series in Los Angeles was not just for me but for us. To share that moment with the city, and with you, made it all the more special. From the parade to receiving my ring, none of it would have been the same without you being there.

Knowing you are always in my corner is why I have been able to play this game for this long. It has allowed me to give it my all and it’s why I have fun with it every step of the way.

You are one of a kind, and somebody I will always strive to be like.

So, thank you, Mom. Thank you for being you.

Dear Detroit: A Letter from Cy Young Winner Tarik Skubal

Even though I’m from a small town in Arizona, we have a lot more in common than you might think. As I’ve learned more about our city, it’s clear that Detroit has faced its fair share of adversity, which has at times put its future in question. For me… I only had one offer to play Division 1 baseball, some pretty difficult injuries, and other setbacks that made my future feel uncertain. But this city is resilient and this team is resilient. The adversity we face makes the eventual greatness even more rewarding.

From a 0.2% chance of making the postseason to hosting playoff games at Comerica Park. From a ninth-round pick to unanimous Cy Young winner. From a city in crisis to one of the greatest renaissance stories in America. We are all overcoming the odds. You believe in us, and we all believe in you.

Detroit is a sports town and a slept-on city. You don’t understand this place or the people in it unless you’ve been here. The grit and the grind. The hustle and the attitude. The culture and authenticity. But also, a community where neighbors take care of each other and lift each other up. I felt it more than ever at the end of last season—the way you all showed up and created an electric atmosphere made me feel so proud to be a part of this community.

It’s a new era of Tigers baseball, and we’re building something different. A new standard has been set, and we’re about to clock in like the blue-collar people of this city. So, say what you want about us… about Detroit… we have unfinished business, so… let’s run it back.