Thursday, August 25, 2011

Without a Net

After spelling Alex Avila for one game, the Tigers have sent Omir Santos back across the State line to Toledo. Is anyone else worried about this? If Santos isn't recalled by August 31, we won't have a playoff-eligible backup catcher in the event that Victor's knee doesn't mend. I don't find this to be wise. I don't believe that Brandon Inge's knees can stand up to the rigors of catching, so I don't include him in the catcher discussion. Is Don Kelly your idea of a suitable backup? Bwahahahahahaha. Don't let the fact that he's played all nine positions fool you.

Maybe the Tigers have consulted a psychic (asked Kevin Rand) and they are fully confident that everything will be fine with Victor. I hope so. I hope with all my heart so.

Because, you know what? I'm sprung. I've allowed myself to be infected with playoff fever. I was trying to be all sensible...cautious...guarded. But after we beat the Rays on Tuesday, in a game in which we had Brad Penny (no offense) go up against David Price, in a game in which both Benoit and Valverde were unavailable, in a game in which Phil Coke was not supposed to appear, and in a game in which he was then asked to go two innings and close out the thing, I just lost it.

My heart is now fully invested in making the playoffs. I know. I am a fool. I set myself up for yet another heartache. If the unthinkable happens, no one will be able to deal with one. Sick leave will be taken from work, and you'll find me sitting alone in a dark room, unshowered, wearing the same stanky Tigers t-shirt, muttering incoherently. Not a pretty picture. But true.

So Tigers, you darn well better know what you're doing walking the tightrope without a net. Everything's riding on it. EVERYTHING.

Monday, August 22, 2011

While I Was Out

Um, so I go on vacation for a week, and come back to THIS:

Mi Magglio has been demoted to bench player as we have acquired horrible defender and perennial underachiever Delmon Young from the Twinks. I guess that bench player is better than released player, which was my immediate thought/fear/nightmare when I heard of the Young trade. But still, the ignominy of it just makes me want to jerk the wheel into a bridge embankment.

Brandon Inge is recalled from Toledo when Alex Avila has been playing 43,798 games in a row, and is ready to spontaneously combust this very minute, not to mention the fact that we have twenty players on the roster currently who can play third base, ONE OF WHOM WE JUST TRADED FOR!! PLEASE DAVE DOMBROWSKI AND JIM LEYLAND TELL ME WHY IN THE NAME OF BALLS AND STRIKES DID WE NOT BRING UP A CATCHER????? I know we're thin at catcher in the farm system, but until Martinez can go out there and don the gear again, we need someone. I don't care if Avila is 14 years old and made of rubber, HE CANNOT BE RUN OUT THERE EVERY DAY LIKE A DROID.

I apologize for all these caps, but how else can I show you that I am the top of my 1:45 am...and waking all my neighbors...and scaring the cats...and....(sorry)

Anyway, I didn't see any games for a week, well unless you count going to a Milwaukee Brewers game and seeing them turn a triple play against the Dodgers, but I don't count that. So, to come home and see the Tigers finish off a sweep of the Tribe, and to see Austin Jackson and Alex Avila cut down Fukudome to end the game and seal it, and to hear Rod Allen's throaty "OH, JACKSON," was well, let's just say it's good to be home.

Monday, August 8, 2011

Listen to the Voice of Reason

I'm just going to come out and say it. Magglio Ordóñez is scuffling. He's 6 for his last 34 at bats. This pains me like a rusted piece of barbed wire wrapped tightly around my flabby mid-section. This is not a time to panic. This is not a time to bail on the guy. We need him for....dare I whisper it??? (the playoffs).

Ok. Ok. Ok. I'm telling myself to take a slow breath in and then a cleansing breath out. You should do the same. Sloooooowly. No hyper-ventilating.

Our hero has been written off countless times by would-be fortune tellers. The half-wit sooth sayers have always been wrong. Mi Magglio does not appear to be flustered and flailing. He's going to be all right. He's going to pull out of this funk. He's going to have an impact. Please mark these words so you can remember to GIVE ME CREDIT WHEN I AM RIGHT.

Besides, look, it's not like we need Magglio to carry the team. We've got Miguel Cabrera and Victor Martinez and Jhonny Peralta to do the heavy lifting. The pressure is off. Magglio can just relax and see the ball. Remember in 2007 when Magglio won the batting title, and he said that the ball looked big and slow? I'm not saying we're going back to batting title Magglio. He just needs to start seeing that big, slow ball again. Then everything will be just fine.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Two for Flinching

While Daniel Schlereth was pitching during the eighth and ninth innings last night, I would imagine that most of the Tiger faithful were a mite on edge. Me? As the ball left Schlereth's hand, I actually flinched in anticipation of the carnage to follow. Once again, I find myself in a humbling position. Sigh.

Mr. Schlereth, I apologize for doubting your ability to get the ball over the plate. I am sorry that I did not believe that you could get major league hitters to make outs. I will stop flinching when your fingertips release the ball.

Of course, we never would have been forced to white-knuckle it through Schlereth's outing if Jim hadn't rushed the hook out when Porcello had given up a couple singles and had thrown all of 82 pitches. However, in the light of a Tigers win in extras, and a Tribe loss (snicker, whoop, fist-pump) in extras, I won't quibble.

Give our skip credit for scrubbing Brad Penny's start so that Justin Verlander can face Cleveland twice in the next two weeks. Yeah, we want our ace toeing the rubber against our closest divisional competition. But don't misunderstand me. I mean no disrespect to Penny. As Rogo pointed out, he's done a fine job as fifth starter. It's just.....Justin Verlander, you know! Anyway, the decision got me just a little bit juiced for the playoff chase.

Don't worry though, I haven't forgotten my vow not to jinx this team again by purchasing playoff tickets before we've made it in. I'm turning tricks on the street...I mean I'm clipping coupons and eating expired foods to afford the brazen prices of heartless scalpers. I hope you appreciate the sacrifices I'm making to help the club. Geez.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Water is Wet

Allow me to recount for you just a couple of the many hardships that had to be endured to make it through last night’s game.

1. The monsoon. I’m no wimp. I come prepared with rain jacket every game. However, the heavy rains at the end of the game left everyone waterlogged and dripping. Even my mints, which were in a closed aluminum tin, were soggy. Also, it was genuinely interfering with Valverde’s ability to pitch. The game should have been called, but I understand why they were trying to finish it. If the outcome had been disastrous, however, there would have been a lot of (justified) complaints from the Tiger fan base.

2. Annoying fans. There were four young kids (just out of high school?) sitting behind us. Here are a few of the comments from their non-stop, loud, inane conversations. “tee hee, I throw like a girl.” (High,tittery voice with a lot of giggling) “I like when someone makes decisions for me.” Please. Please don’t be a quivering mass of man-pleasing flesh. The guys were no better. “No girl I know will drive in a thunderstorm.” WHAT? You must not know many girls. “My ex-girlfriend cheated on me with my best friend, and I had lost my virginity to her to boot.” Girl sympathetically replies, “What a bitch.” Many sighs.

3. The spouse. My husband is no Tigers fan. He likes Josh Hamilton. Funny how he calls Miguel Cabrera a drunk, but likes Hamilton so much. Anyway, he was noisily cheering for Texas, while mocking my Tigers all night long. Needless to say, his antics intensified when Benoit laid two eggs in the eighth. We may have had to arrange for a cab for one of us if the Tigers hadn't won on Boesch's dinger. Ha. It was all in good fun, but still. So nauseating. He can stay at home from now on. He did walk all the way around the stadium in search of cotton candy for me, though. Thanks, hon.

In all, I never complain when the night results in a W. So, these minor inconveniences faded away in the light of Boesch's towering drive (that landed about eight rows directly behind me). Thanks Brennan. I owe you one.