I’m getting verklempt. 1984 was great for me. I was 32 years old and still with memories of 1968 and living in Tucson, Arizona. Six guys from Detroit - whom I had never met before they moved to Tucson - became my closest circle of friends and we shared that entire season together.
As a kid, I was the only Tigers fan I knew. So being with a cluster of like-minded souls was a big deal. They were starry-eyed devotees just like me. Watching Jack’s no-hitter in the first week of the season on NBC’s game of the week made us all look at each other and wonder if this could be the year. And it was.