ATLANTA — For as long as Frankie Boyd can remember, Comerica Park has felt like home. The crack of the bat, the roar of the Detroit crowd, the crisp sound of a ball hitting the leather of a glove — they were the soundtrack to his summers growing up in Michigan. But Boyd wasn’t a top draft pick or a promising young prospect. He was the Tigers’ ball boy, sprinting across foul territory, scooping up foul balls and handing them to young fans, quietly becoming a fixture on the sidelines.
This week, the 19-year-old found himself in a place he never imagined: on a flight to Atlanta, officially representing the Detroit Tigers at the All-Star Game after winning the American League fan vote for the honorary All-Star ball boy spot.
“It doesn’t feel real,” Boyd said, standing near the third-base line at Truist Park as he watched AL players take batting practice. “I’ve been on a big-league field before, but this is different. This is the All-Star Game.”
His journey here isn’t a typical path to baseball’s midsummer showcase. Boyd’s story is one of quiet dedication, small moments that built into something much bigger than he ever expected. Tigers fans know him by name, waving to him as he jogs down the line. They’ve seen him help young fans catch foul balls, comfort kids in the stands who missed out on a toss, and give a thumbs-up after a diving grab near the bullpen.
When the Tigers nominated Boyd for the league-wide contest to send one ball boy from each league to the All-Star Game, fans in Detroit rallied. They flooded the league’s social media with hashtags, organized voting pushes on fan pages, and shared stories of Boyd’s kindness at the ballpark.
“I just try to make sure kids have a good day at the ballpark,” Boyd said, shrugging, a shy smile creeping across his face. “Baseball gave me a lot growing up, and it feels good to give some of that back.”
His parents, lifelong Tigers fans, made the trip to Atlanta, sitting quietly in the lower bowl, tears in their eyes as they watched their son step onto the All-Star stage. The Tigers’ social media team captured Boyd’s first steps onto the field, a moment that quickly spread across Detroit Twitter and beyond.
During batting practice, Boyd had a front-row view as some of baseball’s biggest stars launched towering home runs into the Georgia sky. He tucked a few scuffed baseballs into his bag, planning to give them to kids back in Detroit.
“People see players as heroes, and they are,” Boyd said. “But there are so many people who make the game what it is — the clubhouse staff, the security guys, the ushers, the people selling peanuts. I feel like I’m here for all of them, too.”
Boyd’s presence at the All-Star Game is also a reminder of the role community plays in baseball. In a sport often dominated by discussions about contracts and trades, moments like this cut through the noise, reminding fans why they fell in love with the game in the first place.
“Frankie’s a good kid,” Tigers pitcher Tarik Skubal said earlier this season. “You see how he treats people, how hard he works. You can tell he loves the game. You love to see people like him get recognized.”
As the game approaches, Boyd is soaking it all in. He’s received fist bumps from players he’s only seen on TV, exchanged laughs with fellow ball boys from across the league, and watched kids in the stands look at him with wide eyes, recognizing him from Comerica Park.
He keeps thinking about the kids who sit in the first few rows back home, the ones who wait for a foul ball, the ones who might come to the game for the first time and fall in love with baseball because of a small moment, a smile, or a ball handed to them by someone like Frankie Boyd.
“The game is bigger than any one person,” Boyd said. “But we can all play a small part in making it special.”
When the All-Star Game begins, Boyd will be there along the foul line, glove in hand, ready to do what he’s always done: be part of the fabric of the game, one small act at a time.
For a sport that often feels consumed by the pursuit of records and championships, Boyd’s story offers a reminder that baseball is also about the small moments and the people who give the game its heart.
As the lights glow over Truist Park and the first pitch of the All-Star Game is thrown, somewhere in the stands, a kid will be holding a foul ball with a wide grin, not knowing that the person who handed it to him was having the biggest day of his life too.
And somewhere in Detroit, someone will tell their child about the ball boy who made it to the All-Star Game, reminding them that kindness and love for the game can take you places you never expected — even to baseball’s biggest stage.