Believe!

This time will be different.

A host of deja vu emotions swirl as the Tigers take the field tonight against the San Francisco Giants. The Detroit fan worries about six years ago, the last time the Tigers played in the World Series; the Tigers blitzed through the Yankees and Athletics in the playoffs, then sat around for a week and couldn’t get the engines started against St. Louis.

And here they are again, having blitzed through the Athletics and the Yankees, and having sat around for a week, and can they get the engines started against the Giants?

This time will be different.

Meanwhile, the last time this sports writer went to San Francisco for a World Series, the earth shook, players ran for the exits, fans ran down the ramps, and I wound up lighting my box lunch on fire to provide enough light to transmit a story about a massive earthquake.

“We cannot protect you! You are on your own!” the police yelled as they quickly left the area. A handful of us stayed, writing furiously about what had happened.

Were we young? Yes. Stupid? Yes. Did the story stay with us then as it does now, 23 years later?

Yes.

This time will be different.

The nation’s choice?

Here’s another twist. The Tigers, perceived nationally as a gritty team from the rusty Midwest, arguably are the star power roster in this Fall Classic.

They have Justin Verlander, the reigning MVP and Cy Young winner. Who doesn’t know him?

They have Miguel Cabrera, the should-be surefire MVP and Triple Crown winner. Who doesn’t know him?

They have Prince Fielder, a baseball superstar with a hairstyle and physique that is instantly recognizable. And they have Jim Leyland, who already has won a World Series, and now is in his third try for a crown.

Compare that with the 2012 Giants. True, they won this thing two years ago. But many of their big stars then are now on different wattage. Edgar Renteria, the Series MVP, is gone. Tim Lincecum is essentially a reliever now, untrustworthy with a start. Aubrey Huff is not the name he was then. Brian Wilson is gone for the year with an injury.

The Giants still have guys like Buster Posey and Pablo Sandoval, but it’s second baseman Marco Scutaro – who at 36 has bounced around from the Mets to Oakland to Toronto to Boston to Colorado to San Fran – who is currently the rage.

It may be, given the West Coast time zone that leaves many Giants games out of reach for half the country, that neutral fans are pulling for the Tigers as the team they know better.

Detroit.

America’s Team?

This time will be different.

A terrible memory

I watched with great interest as the Giants completed their three-game comeback against St. Louis on Monday night in the National League Championship Series. For a team that had been on the brink of defeat, the Giants sure looked confident. They scored seven runs in the first three innings, and their starter, Matt Cain, was so effective in his shutout pitching, he actually screamed “No!” when his manager came out to replace him.

But seeing all that orange – the towels, the shirts – also reminded me of the 1989 Series. It was Game 3, the Giants were at home in Candlestick Park, facing the A’s, and we were about a half-hour from the first pitch. Then, with no warning, the stadium seemed to start rolling, as if giant poles were moving underneath it.

I honestly thought it was the fans doing some sort of coordinated foot stomp – it was a such a thunderous sound – until I felt myself swaying and I thought “earthquake” and then it stopped, and the players began running to the outfield, grabbing family members over the railing.

Pandemonium ensued.

In the hours that followed, as dusk turned to nightfall, we took a bus past collapsed roads and crushed buildings and rolled into a blackened downtown San Francisco, lit only by the moonlight that seemed incongruous with the horror of what had happened. At one point, I looked down a street, and it seemed to be covered in ice. Blinking, I realized it was a sea of glass from shattered windows, with the moonlight reflecting off it.

We spent several days in San Francisco, even though the Series would not resume for another week and a half. We went to shelters. We chronicled the destruction. I still remember a woman screaming to firemen that she was trapped in her house. They urged her to jump out through the window, which, thanks to the earthquake, was now at street level. She wouldn’t do it, because she couldn’t believe that she wasn’t still several stories off the ground.

I never forget that. And yet Monday, I watched the Giants fans go crazy, and I realized many weren’t born when that earthquake happened. The park is not the same. The circumstance is not the same. There is no reason for the little hitch I get in my stomach about attending a World Series in San Francisco.

This time will be different.

Here we go

And tonight it starts. The Tigers cannot be better situated. Verlander is rested and ready. You could argue tonight’s game will be the biggest of his career (we seem to say this every time he pitches lately) and given the size of the stage, and the fact that the Giants are carrying all kinds of karma into this World Series, it really is true. If Verlander can silence the San Francisco bats, if he can take the juice out of this mojo they have been living on since last week and secure at least one victory in the Bay Area, the Tigers would be well positioned for the return trip home.

Then again, there’s all that National League substituting and lineup shifting and pitchers having to bat and, oh, did we mention we still don’t know what kind of shape Jose Valverde is in?

This time will be different. Tonight it begins. But remember. Just because something looks the same doesn’t mean it is fated to be so.

Yes, the Tigers had a long rest – just like last time – and so what? It doesn’t guarantee the same fate.

And yes, San Francisco is coming off a hot streak, riding momentum into the World Series just as St. Louis did six years ago – and so what? Maybe the Giants are tired from all these near-death escapes.

And yes, this is the site of one of the most stunning, terrifying and humbling experiences a sports writer is ever likely to live through. But it doesn’t mean any repeat is in sight.

Let us hope the rumbling tonight is all about the baseball. Given the 1989 alternative, no matter what happens, that would make it a great World Series.

Contact Mitch Albom: 313-223-4581 or malbom@freepress.com. Catch “The Mitch Albom Show” 5-7 p.m. weekdays on WJR-AM (760). Follow him on Twitter @mitchalbom. To read his recent columns, go to www.freep.com/mitch.

This time will be different.

A host of deja vu emotions swirl as the Tigers take the field tonight against the San Francisco Giants. The Detroit fan worries about six years ago, the last time the Tigers played in the World Series; the Tigers blitzed through the Yankees and Athletics in the playoffs, then sat around for a week and couldn’t get the engines started against St. Louis.

And here they are again, having blitzed through the Athletics and the Yankees, and having sat around for a week, and can they get the engines started against the Giants?

This time will be different.

Meanwhile, the last time this sports writer went to San Francisco for a World Series, the earth shook, players ran for the exits, fans ran down the ramps, and I wound up lighting my box lunch on fire to provide enough light to transmit a story about a massive earthquake.

“We cannot protect you! You are on your own!” the police yelled as they quickly left the area. A handful of us stayed, writing furiously about what had happened.

Were we young? Yes. Stupid? Yes. Did the story stay with us then as it does now, 23 years later?

Yes.

This time will be different.

The nation’s choice?

Here’s another twist. The Tigers, perceived nationally as a gritty team from the rusty Midwest, arguably are the star power roster in this Fall Classic.

They have Justin Verlander, the reigning MVP and Cy Young winner. Who doesn’t know him?

They have Miguel Cabrera, the should-be surefire MVP and Triple Crown winner. Who doesn’t know him?

They have Prince Fielder, a baseball superstar with a hairstyle and physique that is instantly recognizable. And they have Jim Leyland, who already has won a World Series, and now is in his third try for a crown.

Compare that with the 2012 Giants. True, they won this thing two years ago. But many of their big stars then are now on different wattage. Edgar Renteria, the Series MVP, is gone. Tim Lincecum is essentially a reliever now, untrustworthy with a start. Aubrey Huff is not the name he was then. Brian Wilson is gone for the year with an injury.

The Giants still have guys like Buster Posey and Pablo Sandoval, but it’s second baseman Marco Scutaro – who at 36 has bounced around from the Mets to Oakland to Toronto to Boston to Colorado to San Fran – who is currently the rage.

It may be, given the West Coast time zone that leaves many Giants games out of reach for half the country, that neutral fans are pulling for the Tigers as the team they know better.

Detroit.

America’s Team?

This time will be different.

A terrible memory

I watched with great interest as the Giants completed their three-game comeback against St. Louis on Monday night in the National League Championship Series. For a team that had been on the brink of defeat, the Giants sure looked confident. They scored seven runs in the first three innings, and their starter, Matt Cain, was so effective in his shutout pitching, he actually screamed “No!” when his manager came out to replace him.

But seeing all that orange – the towels, the shirts – also reminded me of the 1989 Series. It was Game 3, the Giants were at home in Candlestick Park, facing the A’s, and we were about a half-hour from the first pitch. Then, with no warning, the stadium seemed to start rolling, as if giant poles were moving underneath it.

I honestly thought it was the fans doing some sort of coordinated foot stomp – it was a such a thunderous sound – until I felt myself swaying and I thought “earthquake” and then it stopped, and the players began running to the outfield, grabbing family members over the railing.

Pandemonium ensued.

In the hours that followed, as dusk turned to nightfall, we took a bus past collapsed roads and crushed buildings and rolled into a blackened downtown San Francisco, lit only by the moonlight that seemed incongruous with the horror of what had happened. At one point, I looked down a street, and it seemed to be covered in ice. Blinking, I realized it was a sea of glass from shattered windows, with the moonlight reflecting off it.

We spent several days in San Francisco, even though the Series would not resume for another week and a half. We went to shelters. We chronicled the destruction. I still remember a woman screaming to firemen that she was trapped in her house. They urged her to jump out through the window, which, thanks to the earthquake, was now at street level. She wouldn’t do it, because she couldn’t believe that she wasn’t still several stories off the ground.

I never forget that. And yet Monday, I watched the Giants fans go crazy, and I realized many weren’t born when that earthquake happened. The park is not the same. The circumstance is not the same. There is no reason for the little hitch I get in my stomach about attending a World Series in San Francisco.

This time will be different.

Here we go

And tonight it starts. The Tigers cannot be better situated. Verlander is rested and ready. You could argue tonight’s game will be the biggest of his career (we seem to say this every time he pitches lately) and given the size of the stage, and the fact that the Giants are carrying all kinds of karma into this World Series, it really is true. If Verlander can silence the San Francisco bats, if he can take the juice out of this mojo they have been living on since last week and secure at least one victory in the Bay Area, the Tigers would be well positioned for the return trip home.

Then again, there’s all that National League substituting and lineup shifting and pitchers having to bat and, oh, did we mention we still don’t know what kind of shape Jose Valverde is in?

This time will be different. Tonight it begins. But remember. Just because something looks the same doesn’t mean it is fated to be so.

Yes, the Tigers had a long rest – just like last time – and so what? It doesn’t guarantee the same fate.

And yes, San Francisco is coming off a hot streak, riding momentum into the World Series just as St. Louis did six years ago – and so what? Maybe the Giants are tired from all these near-death escapes.

And yes, this is the site of one of the most stunning, terrifying and humbling experiences a sports writer is ever likely to live through. But it doesn’t mean any repeat is in sight.

Let us hope the rumbling tonight is all about the baseball. Given the 1989 alternative, no matter what happens, that would make it a great World Series.

Contact Mitch Albom: 313-223-4581 or malbom@freepress.com. Catch “The Mitch Albom Show” 5-7 p.m. weekdays on WJR-AM (760). Follow him on Twitter @mitchalbom. To read his recent columns, go to www.freep.com/mitch.