I had to remember Nelson Cruz blasting 20,000 playoff home runs against us, notably off a 100 MPH Justin Verlander fastball, and one off Jose Valverde's "best pitch." I had to relive getting eliminated in a rout so ugly, Jim Leyland said what everyone was thinking--that it's a crying shame this team will be remembered by this game. /gnash-sob-hurl things against wall
I know. I know. We had a good run. That's all you can ask for. It's really difficult just to make the playoffs in baseball. We ousted the Gotham Yanks. We saw Austin Jackson start an outfield assist double play at the plate that elicited a throaty "OH JACKSON" from Rod Allen the likes of which we'll never forget, and which aptly captured the emotion of the play. We saw Ryan Raburn and Miguel Cabrera hit back-to-back jacks to drive a stake through the hearts of the White Sox. I KNOW these things. Really I do. I'm not generally an ingrate, either. But when it came right down to it, I was still devastated. I apologize for being a horrible, terrible, no-good person.
A friend and I mulled over off-season acquisitions and reminisced about Tiger Fest 2011 today, so that helped. We laughed over arctic temperatures and red noses, the salvation of hand and foot warmers, hugs from Casper Wells and gasps at an unexpected brush by from Max Scherzer. The countdown to Tiger Fest 2012 has begun.
Ok. I promise to leave 2011 in the past where it belongs. I'm not going to harp on the things that went wrong. I won't keep rehashing the seamy side of yesterday's news. Eyes front. Hot stove. Winter meetings. Yes sir.