... putting on his Tigers cap

Today I went out to mow the lawn, which is one of my favorite things to do - I have a whole zen, time-with-my-inner-self attitude towards it. As per normal, I opened up the deacon's bench in our doorway to pick out a hat to wear. I look at my Beloved Jays caps and pass by them: I'll probably sweat a little and I don't want to get that ol' sweat stain on them. Same for my Hated Bosox and Hated Yankees caps. The Mourned Expos caps - those are for special occasions. I realize I'm wasting time and fooling myself even debating this, and I pick up my Sainted Tigers cap.

As I look at the Olde English D of now-multiple hues and feel how the fabric of the cap moves in those ways that only a beloved hat can go, it dawns on me: I'm had this hat nearly 20 years. I can't think of any other thing I've had in my life that long. Maybe some CDs, but that's a whole other category. The closest would be the Cavalier of Love, but even that has reached a measurable end of life.

I put on the hat and it moulds to my head and I remember how much of my life is tied up in this silly thing.

1 - How does a New Brunswick boy wind up with a Tigers cap?
Most people would say "Oh, some Magnum P.I. fetish," and I say "Nay."

See, we got cable in Minto in 1984 - before that all TV was over the air. When we got cable we got two US networks: NBC and CBS, and for some reason no one has ever explained to me we got them from Detroit. In 1984 the Tigers ate up the American League, winning their first 10 games (including a no-hitter) and leading from pillar to post. The games were on WDIV most nights right after Jeopardy! and while my heart still belonged to the (then) Beloved Expos, I was still recovering from "Blue Monday". I feel in love with Jack Morris, Lance Parrish (and his orange glove), Alan Trammel, Lou Whittaker, Chet Lemmon and Kirk Gibson. It was also the first I heard of Sparky Anderson and associated him so much with the team that I still have trouble imagining him as the Reds manager in '70s.

The Tigers won it all and for the first time I was supporting a winner. I'd still keep up with them when I moved to Barbados and when I moved back to Canada I was able to buy a real Tigers cap to add to my (substantial) hat collection.

This was the first Tigers cap.

2 - The End of the First Tigers Cap
When I moved to Halifax to go to university, one of the things I made sure I took with me was my Tigers cap, because I knew I needed something to make me unique, and I was only 17 so that seemed as good a fit as any.

The next part is deeply symbolic....

It was my first class, Advanced Calculus which if you read other parts of the Brief History you know marks the exact point where G Valentino met the reality of the world. I had taken my cap off and put it on the chair next to me because Ma Valentino didn't raise no foo'. At the end of class, a little hit in the gut, I staggered out with an hour to kill before my first English class. I then noticed...I had left my hat behind.

I turned around and quickly ran back to the room before the next class sat down, only to notice that my hat was gone. To this day I have no idea what happened to it. I think someone picked it up with the intention of taking it the lost and found and either forgot, or I just never checked at the right time. So...right away I was down one (1) sense of my own intelligence and one (1) Detroit Tigers cap.

Luckily my sister worked at a sporting goods store in Bedford and I was able to get a new hat a discount. That is the hat I have today.

3 - The first crisis of the new hat
I was working at the best job I ever had: staff member at Camp Wegesegum in Chipman, New Brunswick, and my Tigers cap was with me. I had never done anything to it and always kept it in pristine shape. Of course, I was working with the teen camp and it was one of those moments when I was helping look after the pool when I was basically knocked over by said kids and into the pool...Tiger cap and all. It seems to trivial now, but it actually did upset me. Here was the replacement cap that in a weird way I had swore nothing would happen to now all wet and contaminated with chlorine. Yeah, I was livid. Luckily the head staff member, Anisa Pym, was able to talk me down before I went after the kids with an axe for the second time (I might tell that story later), but it did mark the time the cap went from fetished belonging to talisman.

4 - The second crisis of the new hat
My buddy Lemming was up from Halifax visiting me in Newmarket. Being the bachelor-ific danger seekers we were, we went to Canada's Wonderland, and since we were out in public and my nose burns easily, I put on the Tigers cap. The day progressed as normal until we hit the Dragon Fyre coaster. As usual, I kept my hat on (because by this point it had moulded itself to my head) and did the ride. As we made the turn back to boarding area we must have hit the wind just right because WHOOM the hat flew off of me. Being more mature, I simply said "Drat, excrement!" and figured that since I had a job now getting a new hat would not be a problem. A we got off someone ran up from three cars down and said "Is this yours," while presenting me with my hat. I thanked them profusely and apologized (because I'm Canadian) and offered to get them a drink of something, but we all knew the task itself was its own reward blah blah blah.

There have been a few other adventures, but now the hat is pretty much consigned to yard work and things around the house. It's so dirty that I'd never wear it out anywhere. But at the same time I don't want to replace it or wash it. Call me sentimental, nostalgic, whatever you will, but in some ways I can see a good part of my progress from pudgy kid sitting in front of the TV watching a baseball game to...um....errr....pudgy adult sitting in front of the TV watching a baseball game.

It SEEMS like I've done more in 20 years....ah well....