Friday, August 6, 2010

The Unbearable Sadness of Being...

... a Tigers fan. I really hate to be such a baby, but I am unable to cope with yet another loss. Mercifully, I missed most of the game for my son's baseball picnic. What a blessing. I didn't see Justin Verlander give up two runs in each of the first two innings. It's a good thing, too. You would think by this point, I would just be desensitized to all the losing, but no. It still stings. Every day. Day after day after day.

Ok. Big deep breath. This cannot go on. Even horrible, terrible teams don't lose this much. So, by sheer probability, we cannot continue to lose at this pace.

But seriously, who is going to be the stopper in this skid? Verlander couldn't do it. Scherzer pitched quite well yesterday, and where did that get us? I wore the lucky bracelet, attended the game, and...nothing.

It's going to take something extraordinary. Jeremy Bonderman, who sounds like baseball has become rather a chore, and has contemplated retirement after this season, faces off against Scott Kazmir tomorrow. Could Bondo's family come to the game and give him some moral support? Jeremy once said that one of the greatest thing about being a father is that his daughter loves him regardless of how he pitched that day. We need her at the game tomorrow. I am dead serious. Please, I'm begging here. My pride is non-existent at this point. Shame? Don't even know the definition.

Bats. That's another mountain to move. I say we sacrifice a live chicken before the game. All of us. Individually. I mean, if 20,000 fans sacrifice a live chicken, there's no way our bats can fail, right? If you can't stomach taking the life of an innocent winged creature, buy a bucket of KFC.

My last key for victory tomorrow involves sabotage. Part of the work may be done for us, as Torii Hunter quite possibly earned himself a suspension after tonight's histrionics, including throwing a bag of balls onto the field and maybe making contact with home plate umpire Ron Kulpa, or at the very least spitting in his eye (not purposely). Anyway, if you can break into the CoPa and steal equipment, that would be really great.


Brooklyn Trolley Blogger said...

Hang in there Dude...there are fellow sufferers. We are not alone. No...the sting never stops stinging. Wanna know how much ~ and how negative I am? At City Field we were able to purchase FAN BRICKS and have them placed in the pavement/plaza. In a sea of feel-good bricks, mine says...1977 STILL HURTS! Hope the picnic was a blast.

OldEnglish said...

I would love to buy a brick to memorialize the pain of last year's historic collapse (and have it permanently placed somewhere so I don't get tempted to throw it through my tv).