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 me...no 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.

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.

A Pretty Penny

Wow. I went to the park yesterday for my Mother's Day present. I thought we might be in for a bit of a disappointment after Justin Verlander followed up his no-hitter with eight innings of two-hit ball.

Not so fast, Miss Debbie Downer. Let us not denigrate Mr. Brad Penny. All he did was go eight strong, allowing five measly hits and ZERO runs. Penny did get multiple assists in the form of dazzling defensive plays. It was fun. Winning is fun. Shutouts are fun. Watching Papa Grande celebrate the final out was more than fun, it was grande. Everything he does is grande.

I had a lot of stars in my scorecard yesterday. Stars denote a particularly nice play. Brandon Inge went a few rows into the stands to snare a pop foul off the bat of Brayan Pena. In the fourth, Casper Wells saved a run after Billy Butler doubled. He made a nice sliding catch off a Francoer flare that threatened to shoot the gap. Then on the very next play, Austin Jackson ran down a deep Eric Hosmer shot to straightaway center. In the seventh, Scott Sizemore made a diving stop on a Billy Butler grounder that was "sure" to get through the infield. These flashes of leather made me smile. I'll bet Brad Penny smiled himself to sleep last night.

Jhonny Peralta got his 1000th hit in the sixth inning on a double over Alex Gordon's head in left-center. He got a nice ovation, but didn't seem to want any fanfare over the moment. He calmly called for time to remove his shin guard instead of tipping his cap to the crowd.

Today's game has been postponed due to the relentless rain. Boo. What is a person to do with her afternoon when it's raining outside and there's no baseball on? Guess I'll knit a throw blanket in the shape of the Old English D. Sigh.

The Other Guys

I was driving home from the Fort Wayne Children's Zoo today when the game started. The only station I could find that had the game on was (gasp!) a Sox station. Hey, I was just happy to have a feed at that point. Ed Farmer and Darrin Jackson are the Sox' radio guys. It was actually quite enlightening to listen to the game from the opposition's point of view.

Farmer and Jackson were (rightfully) incredulous about Brad Penny's weight as listed in the media guide. He's listed at 6'4", 230 pounds. Both agreed that 250 is more like it. They also said it "looked about right" that Penny is from Oklahoma. These cracks were mild and no laughs were had (on air) at Penny's expense, but they were duly noted by yours truly. I am happy to go behind enemy lines to dig up dirt and report back to you.

As the game wore on with Brad Penny throwing a no-hitter, the Sox guys felt the need to downplay his performance a bit. They said that there were some hittable pitches in there, and the Sox players just weren't hitting them. I guess there's probably truth to that. They did admit that Penny had thrown a few very nice pitches here and there. The funny thing is, that when I started to lose the Sox station, and tuned in to a Detroit broadcast, Dan and Jim said Penny was brilliant. I guess we're all homers.

The other notable characteristic of the Sox broadcasters was that they were very intent on telling the listener what pitch Edwin Jackson should be throwing next and why. For example, they said that with the count at 3-2, and having just thrown a slider out of the strike zone, you better come right back with that same pitch, because it's the last pitch the hitter will think you're throwing. This went on pretty much the whole time I was listening, which was through the fifth inning.

Overall, I found the Sox broadcasters to be boring. I wouldn't want to listen to them over 162 games.

Now, I must say that today's game was all kinds of fun from the Detroit perspective. A no hitter into the sixth, Tigers hits all 'round, I got something to write about (even if I had to make a run into enemy territory to do it), and a 9-0 shutout, and EIGHT IN A ROW TAKEN FROM THE EVIL SOX! Triumph, plain and simple.

Did I Stutter?

I hope you had faith in me. I delivered. Indeed. I am not smug or full of braggadocio. No, I am just happy to back up yesterday's promise. We needed this W. Badly. I'm just happy to be here, glad I could help the ball club.

When Victor Martinez drove Ryan Raburn home in the fourth on a sac fly, a young fan in our section calmly said, "Ha ha, Texas." It was so great. In fact, it's my new catch phrase.

Brad Penny, in a Tigers uni, has not inspired the highest levels of confidence. Today, I'm not gonna lie, some balls were hit hard. In particular, a potential three-run shot by Michael Young had to be reeled in by the Rhino in an against-the-wall-over-the-fence effort. Whew. A one-run sac fly was a happy result under the circumstances, folks. After a rocky, but ultimately one-run sixth, I thought Penny was through. No way Leyland would put him back out there. WRONG! Groans were audible all over our section when Penny took the hill for the seventh. It seemed like tempting fate too much. Penny got Torrealba to ground out, then gave up a single to Moreland, and got Moreland on a fielder's choice. Leyland finally brought the hook, and Villareal came out of the pen. All he did was pick Borbon off first before throwing a single pitch! Spectacular. Stupendous!

Then Benoit had to make things queasy by giving up the tying run in the eighth. Granted, it was his first run allowed this season in five appearances, but it did lead to consternation. Let us revert back to the clean inning from now on, Joaquin.

After Victor Martinez drew a walk in the Tigers half of the eighth, he was lifted for pinch runner Don Kelly. Rangers' reliever Strop threw over to first at least twenty times in an attempt to hold Kelly on, but he STOLE THE BASE ANYWAY! HA HA TEXAS! Sadly, Boesch and Peralta K'd right after that to kill the rally.

In a show of confidence, Leyland had Valverde pitch the top of the ninth, and he gave up a quick single, but then got a flyout and a double play to face the minimum three batters. Thank you Papa Grande for not breaking our spirits by giving up run(s).

Now, the Tigers' ninth was like a little story book. Inge ignored my mutterings about his strikeouts and produced a leadoff single. Avila laid down a beauty of a sac bunt to advance him. Jackson walks. Santiago strikes out. RABURN DRAWS A WALK TO LOAD THE BASES FOR CABRERA, I DEFY YOU TO SCRIPT A SCENARIO BETTER THAN THAT!! Bases juiced, two outs, bottom of the ninth, club on a skid. You know the fairy tale ending. Miguelito laced a single through the left infield to lift us to a walk-off win. A little tear of happiness rolled down my cheek, and my friend and I high fived our way out of the park. Too perfect.

I hope you realize now that I can be trusted to bring a halt to losing streaks. Count on me throughout this season to deliver a win when it's needed most.

HA HA Texas!

In Which Hand-Wringing Begins in Earnest

So, our offensive impotency is beginning to make me cranky. To be sure, Jim Leyland's addled lineup cards may have something to do with it, but our big boys have been up in clutch situations and failed to produce. Now, my brow furrows, my face darkens, and a funk settles down over my household.

Well I can see I am just going to have to stop fretting and do something about this situation myself. Tomorrow, I am heading down to Comerica Park. I will be there as the gates open. I will align myself with the baseball gods during batting practice. You can put me down now as guaranteeing a win. Yes, I am tempting fate, but how could she be any worse to us than she's been so far?? I am going to will us to win tomorrow. Sheer will, folks. That's what I bring to the table. Well, that and a whole lot of frenzied screaming.

Jim Leyland can bat Will Rhymes leadoff again tomorrow if he wants to, but I stand by my guarantee. He can drop Peralta down in the lineup again, even though he's been hitting the ball very well. We are going to win. He can run Brad Thomas out there for all I care. Put tomorrow's game in the W column. Brad Penny is tomorrow's starter for sobbing out loud, and here I am making a covenant with victory.

In case you doubt my powers, I have an excellent track record. Last year, the Tigers went 9-3 in games I attended. The year before, they won 18 of 22. Clearly, I am a charmed individual. I will turn this ship around. You have my word on it.

Bring Out the Slop Trough

Today's loss was marred by play so sloppy, I had to turn my head in repulsion multiple times. Rhymes threw a ball so wild, we were left wondering whether first base was his intended target. Brad Thomas and Alex Avila looked like keystone cops after neither went after a ball hit weakly down the first base line. They stood there looking at each other like a couple of stiffs. Austin Jackson had a ball go off his glove for an error. Penny had no command, so he looked sloppy as well, and his line showed it. My overall impression of our team today? Bush league.

Mark Teixeira has hit two three-run blasts off us in two days. He can pluck my chin hairs. When he stands in the batter's box, he has an expression on his face like he's smelling rotten eggs. I guess I can't argue with results, however. Jerk.

Joe Buck and Tim McCarver are Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum. Their attempts at banter were painfully unfunny. I'm as annoyed with them as I was with the ESPN crew. It's a shame that I couldn't just turn off the sound on my tv and listen to the radio, but radio feeds are not synced these days. I found myself pining so strongly for Ernie Harwell. I need to hear his voice.

To cheer you up, I share that the Twins are also 0-2, so things could be worse. To panic you, the White Sox are 2-0. We're two games out of first. Cellar dwellers. Ha.

Tomorrow, we place our fragile baseball hearts in Max Scherzer's hands. I don't know about him, but I've got a big chip on my shoulder right now. Beat the Yanks or bust.