"Baseball is Not Unlike a War"

The title of this post is a quote from Tigers great Tyrus Raymond Cobb. Ty certainly did play the game like it was a war--spiking opponents ruthlessly, spewing racial epithets, and generally pissing off the baseball world at large. Watching a small portion of Ken Burns' baseball documentary, I got to thinking about Cobb. His otherworldly stats inspire pride, but everything else about him makes even hardened convicts blush. Thankfully, the Tigers have a host of solid, good-guy Hall of Famers too, to stand in stark counterpoint to Cobb's many iniquities. Al Kaline leads the pack, qualifying as a gentleman of the highest order.

Don't get me wrong, I don't require my ball players to be choir boys. In fact, Kirk Gibson was my original Tiger. No altar boy, he. I love Gibson's fire, his drive for winning. It fueled many a clutch knock. It propelled a player that didn't have the most talent to achieve gargantuan feats on the field. Cobb, however, redefined thug. He threatened to shred a man at second if he tried to block the base. He stabbed a black hotel worker who dared to ask him for identification.

Lou Gehrig may have best embodied Cobb's contemporary antithesis. Gehrig's idea of "raising cain" was having a beer with dinner, and Gehrig had his mother travel on the train with him early in his career. Adorable.

Whatever our likes and loathings of Cobb, his statement about baseball is true. We are currently waging war in our division. It's rather telling that the Tigers are playing the Twins this weekend, and the Sox are going against the Tribe. Although today's game marked the first Twins win against us in 12 games, it is so gratifying to have had 11 straight go into the W column against the Twinks. A great satisfaction settles down over my soul. Another tight race appears to be in the cards, but if we have to participate in another Game 163, I may not survive.

On a final, but unrelated note, how funny is it that Adam Dunn is laying a giant, rotten egg for the Sox? I would like to draw your attention to the fact that I stated my marked preference for not signing Dunn last off-season. Thank you. Thank you. /bows melodramatically

Public Service Announcement

You like baseball.

In fact, you are reading my site, so you probably love baseball.

You want to attend the World Series.

You want to attend the World Series for free.

You support worthy causes.

If you support a worthy cause, you could win a trip to the Fall Classic.

See what I did there?

State Farm and MLB are partnering up to support charities with the Go To Bat program. Your support of this program could earn you tickets to this year's Series.

So...

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You'll be feeling like Derek Jeter hitting a home run and going five for five to get to 3000 hits (and beyond). Getting behind a cause you probably already support and scoring seats to the best championship in all of sports is a no brainer. Just do it!

Regrets, I've Had a Few

Gulp.

I'msorryRyanRaburnforcallingyouabutcherandI'msorryBrandonIngeforcallingyouarallykillerthereyougoIapologizedtwiceinarow.

On Sunday, my mother, my sister and I braved the withering sun to take in a game at the ballpark. Our seats were three rows behind the Tigers' pen. Apparently, Phil Coke made my mom's day before the game. I was elsewhere, and missed the following exchange, which my sister corroborated:

Mom: takes aim at Coke with her non-digital camera. No doubt, taking forever to center the shot, etc.

Coke: points right at my mom as she's taking the shot (I have no evidence as yet. This is a film camera, people.)

Mom: does a fist pump to Coke in a appreciation (!)

Coke: does a fist-pump/shaka combo back at her (Why do you have a film camera, mother, why, why, why? I could have posted the photo here in this post right now if you had joined the current century. [Love you mom.])

Before the game, my sister frets that this game will end in a loss, as all the games she's been to in the past several years have gone in the L column. I stoutly reassure her that we will win this game for her today (while also expressing mild concern at Porcello's recent struggles.)

In the bottom of the seventh, there we are, down 3-2, and the inning starts with a couple of easy pop-ups. More moaning from sis. Before Inge gets to the plate, I vow to stop calling him Binge if he comes through. He draws a walk, and my mom turns to me and asks "Does that count?" I waffle a little before grudgingly conceding that it does.

THEN, after another walk and an error, Mi Magglio rips a (two-outs, bases-loaded, down-a-run-late-in-the-game) two run single up the middle to give us a 4-2 lead, and we all go wild, but especially me, because after all, it is Magglio performing the heroics. Doubters, haters, "what have you done for me lately" morons, you are on notice.

Ryan Raburn moves from second to left in the eighth inning. I proceed to complain, out loud, about Raburn being a "butcher" in the field. Ryan hears me and does this. Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry RYAN. I A-P-O-L-O-G-I-Z-E with sincere and abject groveling. You saved my dear sister from a shame spiral of self-accusation and candied almonds. She no longer believes herself to be a wretched curse upon our boys of summer. She is free to purchase tickets with impunity.

Just to shame me, Brandon Inge swats a two-run triple in the eighth. I am done. I have sanctioned myself from calling Brandon derisive names. For the second time in one sun-soaked afternoon, I found myself cooking up crow and choking it down whole. Well done, fellas, well done.

Check out the goods. We stagger out of the park, barely able to walk under all our loot--the W, a clutch knock from Magglio Ordóñez, a stretched out, wind-knocked-out-of-his lungs diving grab by Ryan Raburn, and an insurance-runs producing three-bagger from Brandon Inge. That, my friends, is why we love the game.

Rockin' Robin (tweet, tweet, twiddly deet)

Sigh. In a move that shames me, I have joined Twitter. I am tweeting and following other tweeters like the lemming that I am. The reason I finally caved in to the burgeoning peer pressure is simple. I found myself wanting more Tigers news, and these days, the latest breaking stuff is on Twitter. As I dug my feet in and refused to become a part of the Twitter revolution, I secretly cheated. I would manually type the following URL into my browser: "http://twitter.com/beckjason". Then I would have to do this repeatedly, because I didn't have a Twitter account. Actually, I did have a Twitter account, I just wasn't using it. I wasn't following anyone, I wasn't tweeting, I wasn't doing anything.

So, although I am now filled with self-loathing, I have tweeted a few tweets, and followed some folks. Some cool things have come out of it, I admit that.

Anyone who joins Twitter must set prodigious goals and then brazenly publicize them.

By the end of 2011, I would like to have 20 followers.

It's ambitious to be sure, but I've never been known to shy away from a challenge. If you want to read Old English D's pedestrian rants, I mean scintillating commentary, there is a link to the right. Thank you. (?)

Who's Your All Star?

It’s no secret that All Star voting is an outrageous sham. Uninformed masses stuff the ballot box with votes cast for washed up stars and players who’ve spent the majority of the season on the DL. I freely admit I don’t know everything about every player. But MLB puts all the stats right in your face on the ballot, morons. Perhaps this is a naïve idea, but I vote for the player with the best numbers. The only time I go homer is when the Tiger player has numbers that are legitimately competitive. In a close race, I vote Tigers.

Here are my selections for the 2011 All Star team. I would love to hear some of your picks.

American League

First Base

Miguel Cabrera

Yes, I realize that Paul Konerko and Adrian Gonzalez have monster numbers. Miggy’s OPS is 1.004. Gonzalez’ is .977 and Konerko’s is .953. Cabrera and Konerko have identical SLG at .563. My vote goes to the Puma. He’s one of the best players in both leagues, and deserves an All Star start.

Second Base

Robinson Cano

A little thin at second base this year. Ben Zobrist was Cano’s main competition. Hate to put a vote in for the evil empire, but I don’t controvert the numbers.

Shortstop

Asdrubal Cabrera

Sigh. I wanted to vote for Jhonny Peralta. It was pretty close, but Cabrera has 9 stolen bases to Peralta’s 0. Peralta has out-played my expectations for him. By far. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t pull the trigger for Jhonny, although I’m happy he’s doing so well in the voting.

Third Base

Adrian Beltre

Because I can’t vote for Alex Rodriguez. Period. I have my limits. A-Rod is one of them.

Catcher

Alex Avila

The Beard is a surprise selection, but is totally deserving. Hope the kid wins a starting spot.

Designated Hitter

David Ortiz

I’m not gonna lie. I somehow did not realize that Papi has been putting together such a monster season. My ignorance shames me. But he gets my vote, so maybe that makes up for it?

Outfield

Jose Bautista

Matt Joyce

Curtis Granderson

Two former Tigers here, and it’s not because I’m harboring love. These two have got the goods.

National League

First Base

Prince Fielder

It was tough to choose between Fielder and Votto. The big fella gets the nod.

Second Base

Rickie Weeks

Dang it. I hate the Brewers. This should impress the purity of my vote upon you.

Shortstop

Jose Reyes

He’s fun to watch. I want him on the Tigers.

Third Base

Placido Polanco

Again, not just an “Always a Tiger” vote. He’s tearing it up. Happy for him. Sad for us.

Catcher

Brian McCann

Haven’t really seen him play. His numbers stand out.

Outfield

Matt Kemp

Lance Berkman

Hunter Pence

Because I like Hunter Pence. Not sure why though.

Now, may the Tigers not tank after the All Star Game this year. And here's to a two-hit complete game for Justin Verlander, and standing alone in first place!

A Trained Eye

I have to share with you what may be the greatest triumph of my life. My son is eleven years old. Last year in his youth league, he hit over .700, and would've hit higher, but was called out in at least four at bats for "throwing the bat." Anyway, in two games this year, he has no hits, a bunch of strikeouts and a couple walks.

This slump was a little disconcerting, because he had been tearing the cover off the ball in early practices. He had gotten a new bat after realizing he'd outgrown last year's, so at first the bat was the subject of scrutiny. He claimed to be very comfortable with the new bat. His coach asked whether he'd had his eyes checked lately. I didn't think that was the problem either, so I started examining his at bats closely.

Drumroll, please. I would like to shout from the rooftops that I diagnosed my son's problem, and helped him fix it. I noticed he wasn't keeping his head down on the ball. We talked about it, and he nodded like he knew what I meant, but, well you know how kids are. So I walked him through a slow motion exercise in which I pretended to pitch the ball, then walked the ball toward him and showed him how he should watch his bat hit the ball. We then tossed him a few really slow pitches so that he could practice it, then took him to the cages. Ta-da!

He's not a 100% back yet. I see lapses where he is looking straight ahead the whole at bat, but with a little retraining, he'll be fine, I think. First game since my Batting Coach miracle is tomorrow, so we'll see.

I feel like I should be standing around chatting it up with big league hitting coaches at some batting conference. I am totally inebriated by my own baseball prowess. Ha. I kid. Kind of.

Let's Talk Rivalry: Detroit/Cleveland

Short notice, but Old English D will be appearing on Battle of Ohio Baseball podcast tonight at 9:30 eastern time. Hosts Dave Mitchell and Mark Donahue will be talking Indians/Tigers. Tune in to hear me speak objectively about the state of Tiger baseball and the upcoming Tigers/Tribe tilt. Ha. Click the link above, and here's another just for good measure.

Old English D humiliates self all over Internet Radio

You can even call in to heckle me, so hope to hear you soon!