Out of Left Field: Life's Unexpected Journey in a Season of Tigers Baseball

By Rick Schemm

When Al sold his company at age 39, it didn’t take long to realize that work had been his life with little time for a partner or for attending Tiger games with his father, a season-ticket holder for all of his life. Thus began a summer of traveling across the country to see Tiger games, making up for some lost time. What Al couldn’t have anticipated is that he would keep seeing the same woman at some of these games as she also traveled to see the new young star pitcher. Who was this woman, why was she following him around like a groupie – and when he met her, why did he find her so interesting and attractive? But when the traveling plans were interrupted by his father’s failing health and possible passing, the path Al was on seemed to change.
This is a story about family and friendship, and life taking new and unexpected directions, set in the backdrop of Detroit Tigers baseball as people in Al’s life help him get through a difficult time and provide the magic that makes life possible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rick Schemm
• Release date: Feb 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005517861

Book preview

If you’re not a follower of Major League Baseball, you might not know that the Detroit Tigers have struggled to reach the World Series since 1945, having reached the championship only twice between then and 1984. Frank Ballentino, a retired autoworker, season-ticket holder, and an unusually healthy man for his age, had been going to games since he was 5 years old, and he could tell you what that frustration felt like.

This is a story about Frank and his son, Al. Despite his dedication and loyalty, Frank had been missing out on seeing his Tigers in the Series. But for Al, his busy work life was causing him to miss out on both seeing games at all, and also on finding the love of his life.

In the baseball season of 2006, all of that started to change during Spring Training when the team signed a 20-year-old pitcher who became the ace of the pitching staff at the start of the regular season. As it turned out, a lot of things changed that summer that no one saw coming.

The End and the Beginning

It had all come down to this final moment. Al was sitting in his office of his tech company, contemplating the upcoming sale of his business, the company he started when he was 17. He was thinking about what the future might bring as a 38-year-old without a purpose, and he was looking out the window at the almost-completely melted snow of early spring. His thoughts were interrupted by a call from his father, Frank. You’d know Frank’s voice even if you had only met him once. He was a man in his mid-70s with a thick Italian accent.

Hey, son, how you doin’ today? he asked. Over the last few weeks, Frank had seemed completely oblivious to the upcoming sale and how it would impact Al – and it seemed to Al that this phone call was just more of the same.

Great, Dad, said Al, rubbing his forehead in frustration. How are you?

Well, said Frank, it’s baseball season, and so everything was right with the world! The Tigers might have a strong team this year … we’ll have to wait and see.

Dad, you’ve been saying that at the start of each season for about the last 30 years or so.

Yeah, I know, said Frank, but I think there’s something different this year.

And you also say that every year, said Al.

Us season-ticket holders have to keep the faith, son, or what’s the point? Your grandpa used to tell you at the games that when you love a team, you stick with ‘em. I think he even put something like that into his will when he gave me the tickets.

Yep, you’re right, said Al.

Hey, son … there was a short pause of hesitation – I’m calling you to see if you can go to a game next week.

Frank had already prepared himself for the possibility of once again being turned down. Al had only attended a couple games each year with Frank, despite there being 81 home games and over 40 invitations from Frank each year. Work and its responsibilities as the owner had been Al’s roadblock, not as an excuse to get out of attending, but really a true legitimate reason involving the scarcity of free time. But Frank did indeed know the significance of this day, and that’s why he was calling, both trying to cheer Al up with the hope for his Tigers, and hoping that with the company sold, Al would, for the first time in a long time, accept his invitation.

Yes, let’s do that, said Al.

They made the arrangements to meet at their same spot.

Al, thank you, said Frank, followed by a pause. It means a lot to me.

No problem, Dad, see you next week.

Al began to hang up the phone, but he could hear his dad’s voice, apparently trying to add something to the conversation that Al thought was over. Son, he said, come out to my house after your day is finished tomorrow, I’ve got cold beer in the fridge.

Al accepted the invitation, and they said their goodbyes. He realized in that moment that his dad did know the significance of this day.

Al leaned back in his chair and looked at a picture of his dad on the desk. Next, he looked a picture on the wall of the three of them at a Tigers game years and years ago, and memories came flooding back of time spent there with his dad and grandpa. Then he looked out his window at Comerica Park, home of the Tigers, with its grass now turning green among the melting snow. He said to no one in the room, it’s time to take some time. Al had realized that the call was a sign that it was time to be with his dad and go to not just to this game, but to many games, and make up for some lost time.

After what seemed like an hour of remembering (but was actually about five minutes after the call ended), the new owner appeared in his doorway with a quick question about documents that were needed for the sale transaction. He shook Al’s hand and said he was very grateful to have the opportunity to take the company into its new future. He began to depart, saying it had been great working with him on the transition, but then mentioned that Al was an unusual name for a man of his age. Al told him the story about how he had his dad to thank for that, being named after Al Kaline. The blank stare on the buyer’s face was a reminder that he just moved to Detroit after a lifetime in New York City, so Al needed to tell him about one of the most famous players in the history books of the Tigers.

A person appeared at the doorway and interrupted the conversation.

"Hey, I just wanted to say goodbye on your last day. Let’s have lunch together next week and I’ll try not telling you how many things the new guy has already changed around here, but no guarantees."

Al said to the man Tom, I’d like to introduce you to Jeff Benton, the new owner of the company. There was a moment of quiet awkwardness as it became clear to Tom what had just happened.

Oh, I don’t know, said Jeff, "I hear that he’s a great guy, and that everyone will love the changes he makes," and then Jeff laughed, lightening the mood.

Jeff , said Al with a smile and a smirk, this is Tom Jenkins, our CIO.

Tom and Jeff shook hands as Tom stumbled over his words for about a minute, backpedaling, apologizing, and complimenting Jeff all at the same time. Jeff finally put the conversation out of its misery. I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Tom, he said, and the rest of the executive team.

Tom reciprocated the statement, and then they shook hands and said their goodbyes.

Tom was clearly embarrassed, and Al tried to reassure him that Jeff was a great person and would be easy to work with. That seemed to help, as Tom then changed the subject. Hey, do you think your dad will let me come to some Tiger games with you this summer? he asked.

Are you kidding? Al said with a smile. I can’t imagine sitting at games next to anyone I love more than my dad, but you’re a close second! I’m sure he’ll invite you to some, but then again you can just invite yourself, right?

Tom clenched his fist and pumped it into the air in front him and then spun on was heels and departed. Al could only laugh out loud at how much Tom made him laugh and smile every day.

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Everyone Needs a Great Mentor

Al walked briskly toward the Renaissance Center in downtown, the building that housed GM’s headquarters. It’s not that he was late, but rather that he wanted to be early. He boarded the elevator, and as it rose, he gazed through the glass walls and was immediately reminded about the beauty of the Detroit River on a sunny day. It all seemed so much larger than life, and for those brief seconds it put into perspective the small thing that was this impending sale of his company. Approximately five seconds after the ascent began, he turned to look at the interior wall for the remainder of the ride. When he arrived at the top floor, he walked into the Highlands Steakhouse, approached the reservation desk, and then heard someone call his name. He instantly realized that his efforts to be there early proved for naught, since his dinner companion had already secured a window right at the edge of the 71st story. Al had had a mild case of acrophobia ever since a middle school trip to Chicago and a terrifying ride down 103 floors in the Sear Tower elevator – but therapy had helped, and he now