If one includes members of the extended Great Baseball Road Trip family — and by that, we mean people who have attended past trips but aren’t on this year’s journey — the GBRT yesterday: drove three hours to Detroit, including a crafty maneuver near Ann Arbor to avoid a traffic jam because of an overturned semi truck; attended the Tigers/Blue Jays game (5-1 victory for Detroit); played another 9 holes of golf; bowled five games; and became a father.

Yes, Taco — a regular trip contributor (2000-2005, 2007) missing this year’s trip because of an expecting wife — sent a text message in the wee hours to indicate he had become a first-time father to a baby boy named John. “We’re calling him Jack,” Taco reports. “Also, he’s not allowed to play soccer.” Fair enough, and congrats all around.

While we might get an argument from Salsa (Mrs. Taco), we believe we had quite a full day yesterday. Comerica is a nice ball yard. Excellent food options, including those (pictured) chili cheese fries, which we washed down with a kielbasa. A Comerica vendor declared to a group of ladies that beers were “$6.50, plus love. Love is optional.” The lady in question chose an extra buck fifty, but she was teetering on the brink of love for a while. “You would have to love me,” he said. “It wouldn’t be for money because you know I don’t have a good job.” Detroit rallied for five runs in the eighth inning, much to the dismay of the family behind us wearing Toronto t-shirt jerseys.

We got back to the hotel (near the airport, as we lose Rocket today as he flies out East) at around 6:30 p.m. after fighting some horrendous Detroit traffic and nearly instigating a road rage incident with some clever merging. We did some quick research and found a nearby golf course that would let us play 9 quick holes. Sadly, we only made it through about 7.5, but it was the thought that counted. The collective eschewed the planned medley relay in the outdoor pool and instead decided that bowling — at 10 p.m., with Rocket due for a 4 p.m. wakeup call — needed to happen. Again, more Internet research, and we were off.

Little did we know, we would find the best bowling alley in the U.S.A. Seriously. Ford Lanes in Dearborn Heights. The Thursday special was 75 cents per game and half off pitchers of beer. You find something wrong with that and we’ll find something wrong with you. We rolled five games apiece, with Crentist dominating most of the night before all three of us pulling it together in the final game for a scintillating finish capped by our 10th-frame strike. Final score: RandBall 181, Crentist 170, Rocket 164.

Comment of the day: “He must have made that himself. I’m pretty sure that type of shirt isn’t sold commercially.” — Crentist, upon witnessing a rather strange looking undershirt being worn as clothes at the bowling alley.

Today’s agenda: A six-hour drive to Beloit, perhaps a run when we get there, followed by a Snappers game. Ben Revere, here we come.

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