Offramp Hat Trick
Homelessness, Friendship, Sports and Small Victories
In the cluster of casinos and sports arenas in downtown Detroit, with the wagon wheel angled streets of the original city layout colliding haphazardly with the interstate freeway system, one of the traffic lights is interminable. I’m sure there are small animals that could fit an entire gestation period into one red light. “It’s finally green, Marge, and there’s a litter of marmots in the backseat.”
With the heavy traffic, long light, and some happy people headed out of the casino and (mostly) wealthy people headed to games, it’s a favorite spot of less fortunate people flying cardboard signs for a few bucks.
It’s also a great place to get to know some of them if you’re so inclined because you’re not going anywhere until a rodent mom’s water breaks.
My new pal Dave can be found on that corner (South 75 and Grand River if you’re a Detroit local) and he feeds pigeons.
Here’s a guy stuck out in the cold, begging, but he still has enough compassion for oft-maligned living creatures that he lugs around a bucket with birdseed.
He seems to have a lot more joie de vivre than most people in his position, not that I’m judging the others. I can lapse into the throes of depression if I have to defecate before the intermission of a hockey game.
Dave is proud that “the birds” follow him through the city streets. They’re his little winged posse. It’s simple, but it’s beautiful.
Dave and I have a date for me to treat him to some roulette at the casino, but that will be a story for another time.
Today I was just gonna say hi, wave at his pigeons, and hand him a few bucks.
The first couple cars stopped at the light ignored him. No big deal, I know that’s the rule and not the exception.
I wave, he recognizes my car, smiles, starts toward me and the car in front of me flags him down first.
Over Dave’s shoulder, I can see the west corner of Little Caesar’s Arena, home of the Detroit Red Wings.
There is an occurrence in hockey called a Gordie Howe hat trick. It’s a goal, an assist, and a fight in the same game, named for the Red Wings legend.
The person in the car in front of me hands Dave some hand and foot warmers, the little sandbag-looking things 1 that fight off frostbite, popular with outdoor sports enthusiasts.
Dave thanks the person and comes over to me. I hand him a few bucks. He’s obviously thrilled to see the cash.
“I really appreciate it, man, it’s been slow today.”
We begin a conversation and Dave’s head jerks away. The person in the car behind me is waving at him.
“Sorry man, I gotta…” He points behind me.
I look in the rearview.
The person directly behind me is holding a bag of groceries out the window.
My sports-obsessed brain immediately made me say, out loud: “hat trick!”
Warmers, Cash, Food.
Strangely, in Gordie Howe’s amazing career, the farmboy from Floral, Saskatchewan only collected two of the hat tricks that are named for him before retiring in his 50’s.
So here’s to Dave collecting a lot more offramp hat tricks, and getting away from the ice younger than Gordie did.
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Photo courtesy of Getty Images.
I’m not telling you or even asking you to carry these in your car if you live in northern climes near urban areas, but I promise it won’t kill you unless you take them out of the package and superglue them to the windshield.
I have some in my coat top pocket, for just such an occasion. Detroit and her people are so fortunate to have you. Both for your kind heart and your talent in telling their stories.
Witnessing small victories, like the one you eloquently described here, used to be part of how I managed my mood as a family preservation worker in Detroit many years ago.