You've probably heard the expression, a "nodding acquaintance." That was my relationship with former Detroit Tigers manager Sparky Anderson. We never went to dinner (although I vaguely remembering wolfing down something he was also wolfing down). We never had a drink together. We certainly never socialized. But we were locked, whether we liked it or not, in the complex ballet that was the relationship between the Detroit Tigers and the Detroit media.
When we would pass each other, we would acknowledge that fact with a nod and smile, although I never kidded myself that I was anything more than a spear carrier to his star.
Detroit struggles with its problems. But it's a great sports town. To be a member of a pro sports team, especially during the good times, is to be under a microscope of powerful magnification. Some handle that attention poorly. Some handle it well. Mr. Anderson seemed to be born to it. Like Madonna, he only needed one name ... Sparky.
I usually covered breaking news and the streets of Detroit. But I was sometimes drafted to grumblingly fill gaps in our sports coverage. So it was my job -- occasionally -- to shadow these sports "giants." Many were fools. Many were flaming assholes. Most were just average guys who made the leap from high school/college fame to "the bigs" and seemed almost bewildered by it all. But there was the occasional character like Sparky that made you believe in some of the myths.
He was kind, gentle, shrewd rather than smart, tough when he needed to be and a living encyclopedia of baseball knowledge. At first I didn't understand why his players and staff damn near worshipped him. But several years of watching him in action up close made me understand. He was the real deal, not a product of hype and marketing.
Now he's facing a terrible adversary. It was made public today that his family has been compelled to put him in a care facility that specializes in dementia. My heart aches for him.
Public figures make enemies. Scholars, artists, athletes, actors, authors, politicians grow a crop of hateful adversaries who will miss few opportunities to point out their shortcomings.
I never heard a bad word from anyone about Sparky Anderson.
