Oct 5, 2026 12:25 PM
Updated Oct 6, 2026 3:47 AM
Relive the heartbreaking night an officiating error robbed Armando Galarraga of baseball immortality, defining a bittersweet legacy for the stadium soon to be renamed Fifth Third Park.
Tigers fans know Comerica Park is no longer Comerica Park after this season, with the stadium’s name changing to Fifth Third Park.
The stadium itself will remain the same, but the name will never be again. So, before the transition officially takes place, it feels right to look back at some of the most memorable Detroit Tigers games and moments from Comerica Park.
And although this series may read like the stadium itself is closing its doors for good, it isn't. The memories, however, belong to Comerica Park.
Today's memory is one of the most infamous games in Major League Baseball history: Armando Galarraga's imperfect perfect game on June 2, 2010.
What were you doing?
I, myself, found a home on the couch with my roommates off at work. A rare evening alone. Young, 19-year-old Nick sat down to watch a random summer Tigers game, not knowing what was about to unfold over the next 88 Detroit pitches.
Galarraga was on the mound, a pitcher who had been fighting to establish himself in the majors despite possessing excellent control. He never really had the swing-and-miss stuff that made you sit on the edge of your seat whenever he pitched.
But at the time, the Tigers had some fantastic pitchers at the top of their rotation. A guy like Galarraga just needed to get through his five or six innings and do his job.
When he was on, Galarraga could attack the strike zone, generate poor contact and work quickly.
On June 2, 2010, he was more than on.
Galarraga was dealing right out of the gate. He stared down opposing hitters and threw seeds down the strike zone, essentially inviting them to hit. When they did, the ball either sunk into the gloves of Detroit's defenders or popped harmlessly into the air.
Out after out kept coming quicker than you could imagine.
The game moved so quickly that you didn't really realize what was happening until you were already halfway through it.
Galarraga threw just 88 pitches, with only 21 balls and 67 strikes. Behind him, the Tigers' defense continued making the plays necessary to keep the unspeakable event moving forward.
Detroit scored one run in the second inning, and honestly, that was all Galarraga needed. The Tigers added two insurance runs in the eighth, but by then, nobody in Comerica Park was paying attention to the scoreboard.
All eyes were on Galarraga.
Then came the ninth inning.
The first out was followed by the second. Twenty-six batters had come up. Twenty-six had gone down.
Then came the 27th.
Jason Donald stepped to the plate.
Galarraga delivered. Donald made soft contact, sending a routine ground ball toward first base. Miguel Cabrera had shifted slightly to his right and made the play, leaving Galarraga to cover first.
Galarraga sprinted toward the bag.
As he stretched toward the base, the ball arrived in his glove.
Perfect snow-cone catch.
The final out of a perfect game.
Or so everyone thought.
First-base umpire Jim Joyce made the call.
Safe.
There were no replays. There was only the argument, the look of disbelief from Jim Leyland, the stunned expression on Miguel Cabrera's face and the almost surreal smile from Galarraga as he looked toward Joyce, seemingly knowing exactly what had happened.
The call was wrong.
Galarraga had beaten Donald to the bag.
Joyce, one of the most respected umpires in baseball, stuck by his call.
The perfect game was over.
Galarraga retired the next batter to finish the game, but the damage had been done. Twenty-seven batters had come to the plate, and 27 outs had been recorded.
Except one of them had been called incorrectly.
The following day, Leyland nudged Galarraga toward Joyce with the lineup card.
Joyce broke down. He knew he had made a mistake.
Galarraga and Joyce embraced.
The moment was bigger than baseball.
It became one of the most memorable moments in Major League Baseball history, and perhaps, in a strange way, even more memorable than an actual perfect game.
Perfect games are extraordinarily rare.
But a 28-out perfect game?
There has only been one.
The controversy surrounding the play also became part of the larger conversation that eventually led Major League Baseball toward expanded replay, forever tying Galarraga, Joyce and that June night at Comerica Park to one of the most significant changes in baseball history.
Galarraga never officially received his perfect game.
But his name is forever attached to one.
And Comerica Park?
It witnessed one of the most unforgettable moments in the history of Major League Baseball.
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