A Boston pennant--now becoming increasingly likely--would be wonderful. But soon the flag would go on top of a big pile of sports laurels, deserved but not fully appreciated. A New York championship would quickly get engulfed by the news-and-excitement-mongering metropolis in which the Yanks play only a bit part.

The evaporating Tiger Power of 1982 tragically seems appropriate for the city's depressed state, which threatens to deteriorate further.

In 1968, as was the case earlier this season, the Tigers meant much more to the city Dramatically split by a racial not the summer before. Detroiters held their breath that summer, hoping that the steamy evenings would not bring more violence. By mid-summer, they were all cheering instead. The Tigers were on their way to winning it all.

"In '68, you didn't hear talk about the riots," said Brown a member of the championship squad. "Everybody was talking about the Tigers."

When the Tigers return from their disastrous road trip, decidedly fewer people will flock to the park. A good share of the no-shows won't be busy working, but worrying.

Still, a string of wins, good pitching, hot hitting, loads of luck and then perhaps a pennant could resuscitate a city where baseball means more than usual at this stage in the game.