Things That Cannot Be Explained

I mentioned in a previous post that I have hardened my heart against the Tigers for the remainder of this season. It was a purely preservationist measure, as I could not endure any further breakage of that organ.

When we were down 6-3 last night, I decided to bail on the game and just pack it in for the night. It marked the first game this year that I just stopped watching. However, circumstances conspired to pull me back in. First, my husband called up the stairs to me that the game had been tied up. I groggily answered, "yeah, yeah." I did NOT plan to get out of bed to resume watching this thing. Then, a spider bit me. I am not joking! I had a red welt on my back that was smarting like nobody's business. Once I was out of bed to tend to this wound (the audacity of that spider!), I had to start watching again. Have I mentioned that I am very stupid?

Well, you know the crazed adventure I was in for. Countless botched double play balls on both sides, two starting pitchers burned by the Twinks in extras (hoooooooray!), and a home run by GERALD LAIRD capped a Tigers victory. Papa Grande went three innings, blew the save (not really his fault), but got the win. Stranger things have happened, I suppose.

Very, very odd. I could not celebrate this "too little, too late" win, but I managed a half-smile over the fact that the Twins rotation had suffered quite a blow. That's the impact we can look to have on the playoffs at this point--spoilers. Ah well.

See how I am all resigned now? I have finally given up, given in, given out for the 2010 season. It was freeing. If, by some amazing chance, you have not yet done so, I advise that you undertake letting go immediately. You'll thank me.

This is What You Get

Well, I got shafted by a friend with whom I was going to watch tonight's game, so guess what? You will now be subjected to my lame commentary about game 128 versus the Toronto Blue Jays at the Rogers Centre. If you're really bored, feel free to read on. You may want to reconsider and enjoy some of this beautiful weather we're having, however.

In the middle of the second inning, Rod says something to the effect that Max Scherzer is filthy tonight, and clearly has his best stuff. Um, how many times have we seen a guy look good through three or four only to get tagged shortly thereafter. Let us attempt to withhold judgment of a pitcher's performance until the sixth inning, shall we?

Ryan Raburn throws out Edwin Encarnacion at second as he tries to stretch a single to a double. I must offer a personal apology to Ryan, because earlier this year, I was grousing about his defense, recommending that he take extra fielding practice. He must have done so, because he is much, much improved. Several nice plays of late spring to mind. Mr Raburn is simply scorching right now, between the ramped up defense and his fiery bat. I see you, Ryan!

Jhonny Peralta hits a three run shot to left in the fourth of Romero. Wow, I guess apologies must be passed out all 'round tonight. My comments upon the Tigers acquiring Peralta: "You know a players stinks when a team will deal him within the division." Again, so sorry.

Casper Wells had 21 home runs in Toledo this year. Now he gets a chance to prove he can do it in the Show. Who's left in Toledo at this point?? Leyland said as much when referring to September callups. There won't be many. Between injuries and callups at this level, and some injuries to players already in AAA, we're more than depleted, we're gutted.

Oh for the love of pine tar--Gerald Laird racks up two RBI in one swing to make it 6-0 in the fourth! I am agape and amused. So is he, as he exhibits a rueful smile upon approaching the dugout. Kind of a mixture of "I know, I can't believe it either" and "finally, I've made an offensive contribution."

I know this is not from tonight's telecast, but poor Rod has made some, um, interesting comments lately. The other night vs. KC, Willie Bloomquist got handcuffed by a screamer hit by Johnny Damon. Rod says that third basemen are not accustomed to the ball coming at them so hard. Huh? Isn't that why it's called the Hot Corner????

Miguel Cabera enters the batter's box with the bases loaded and nobody out in the 7th. I think I was holding my breath. Escobar snares a sharp, low line drive to rob Miggy of a hit and an RBI. Pure larceny.

Oh dear, Raburn whiffs. Two out, bases still juiced. If we strand all three right here, I cannot be responsible for what happens to my home. I could claim that it was burglarized. It will look that way when I'm through with it. Doesn't much matter anyway, I found out yesterday that the place is worth about as much as a bucket of batting practice baseballs.

Peralta saves the interior of my crib by working a bases loaded walk. Two apologies to the same player in one day? Unprecedented.

Scherzer makes little hearts appear in my pupils right now by coming out for the 7th. Our pen was just about spent after yesterday's extra innings affair with KC. Hey, so he gives up a solo shot to Bautista. Who doesn't give up a home run to Bautista? You tell me that. He gets a free pass with me. See how the rest of the inning is uneventful? More hearts.

Scherzer, having thrown 102 pitches, comes to the mound for the 8th. Oh my. Now, I give Rod the green light to gush on at will. THIS is the time to do it. Scherzer ends the inning by making Fred Lewis hack helplessly for strike three. Eight innings! One run! I feel a little giddy.

Cabrera shoots the gap for a double to lead off the 9th. I'm pretty drunk with baseball happiness at this point.

Eddie Bonine gets two quicks outs and then goes 2-0 to Vernon Wells. He pauses, looks around like he's a lost six year old in a department store and then gives up a double. Sigh. It's ok. Wells is promptly stranded at second to put this one in the W column. Enjoy the afterglow.

In the Bell Jar

We have arrived. At a horrifying place. A fourteen inning gauntlet that ends in consecutive loss number six. Johnny Damon makes a baserunning gaffe on a play that should have ended the game and winds up standing at third. Carlos Guillen then grounds into a disastrous double play to end the eleventh.

I blame the hitting in such situations. If the pitching staff has gone out and put up zeros for four innings in a row, the offense has to do its part and push one stinking run across. How could one run prove so elusive? How can the boys of summer not buckle down and get it done to put a halt to this skid?

I'm not on the ledge saying our season is over and we should sell at the trade deadline and look at next year. No. I want to fight for our season.

BUT....

We do have some gargantuan obstacles to clear. Our starting pitching has not solidified. Andrew Oliver needs more time to develop. Armando Galarraga has had one outing of brilliance and many of mediocrity. Rick Porcello has barely put Toledo in the rear view mirror. I fear that Jeremy Bonderman is an incurable head case. He constantly lets one bad pitch bleed into the next 25 pitches. You can read it in his face.

Our defense. Can we talk about defense for a minute? Only the Nationals separate us from last place on defense. I am ready to hop the fence and start leading some fielding drills, despite a complete lack of athleticism. I could show them what NOT to do, and how horrible they look when they field like me! That would shock them into doing better, I know it. Noone wants to look like me out there. Even in a backyard family game, I get mocked and derided mercilessly. I am the ultimate cautionary tale.

Aaaaaaaand let's not forget about offense. We have what can only be called several automatic outs on our squad. The names, Laird, Avila, Worth, Raburn come quickly to mind. When these gentlemen stride to the plate, it's as good as a television commercial. People can walk away from the tv without the slightest worry that anything of note will happen. Unless you count strikeout looking as something of note.

Now Brandon Inge has a broken hand and is out for the next four to six weeks. You may be aware that Brandon Inge is not my favorite player. However, he shores up a shaky defense, and has raised his average to a respectable (for him) .263. We can't really well afford to lose him right now. There are too many holes already.

In addition to all these roster issues, we have scheduling issues. We are on the road more this half, where we, um, suck. We don't face the Pirates, Nats and Orioles so much this half, and they, um, suck, which helped us pad our record. Starting with Cleveland after the break, we have eighteen games in a row with no off-day. Are you screaming yet? Have you begun cutting yourself yet? Would that be weird? I haven't done that. No, I have not. I categorically deny doing that.

With all that being said, I hope Dave Dombrowski makes some savvy moves at the trade deadline. Moves that won't eviscerate our already paltry stock of prospects. I hope he can swindle the pants off some other GM to give us a couple pieces that could put us over the top. Use the power of those horrible sailboat sweaters, Dave. They could hypnotize an unsuspecting baseball executive into giving up say Dan Haren or Ben Sheets, or Stephen Drew (who Kirk Gibson says has really bad luck, which could certainly be changed by coming over the AL). Right? RIGHT???

Blue on Blue

UPDATE: Mixed results for Mr. Laird. One for four, but two RBI. Methinks he needs something a little stronger than just blue nail polish. He needs me to be AT the ballpark, in the flesh. I'm on it G Money, I'm on it.

Ryan Raburn was the apparent beneficiary of a superstitious move on part. Yesterday, in an attempt to affect the outcome of the game vs. the Nats, I painted my toenails blue. Well, what do you know? A scuffling Ryan Raburn smacked a three-run shot. Now I am in trouble, because I’m stuck with navy blue toenail polish. I don’t dare remove it. I was taught to always respect a streak, and if I think we’re winning because I am wearing blue toenail polish, we ARE winning because I’m wearing blue toenail polish. Ryan Raburn, you’re welcome. Feel free to thank me by leaving tickets at the player’s Will Call box.

Wardrobe choices now severely limited. Guess I’ll have to go out and buy more Tigers shirts. I wanted one that referenced Armando Galarraga’s perfect game anyway. Note that I did not say “nearly” perfect game. No. I will always refer to it as the perfect game, because he did in fact throw a perfect game. It is simply not reflected properly in the annals of Major League Baseball. So what. It was still perfect. Thank you very much. I’m not bitter.

Ok. I am all about using my powers for good. My next target? Gerald Laird. This poor man has been robbed of home runs, had extra base hits snared right out of the sky, and had all manner of ignominies perpetuated against him. It is just plain pathetic, for sobbing out loud. I will save you Gerald. Blue polish (gulp) applied to fingernails. No thanks necessary. It’s a public service I am glad to perform.

Grab Bag of Oddities

Gerald Laird has changed his uniform number from 8 to 12, snatching Lloyd McClendon's uniform number! I find this most unusual. How often do players just change their uni number solely as a slump-buster? Also, John Keating reports that Laird has made no compensation as of yet to McClendon, and plans to do so only if he benefits from the change (improved offensive numbers)! Hilarious. Did McClendon just go for a straight swap and take Laird's number 8? I don't know, nobody mentioned it. Why was this not part of the story???

Carlos Guillen struck out in the bottom of the second inning, and I exclaimed with mildly stern disapproval, "Carlos," and my son chimes in from the other room "Guillen, suckage." He didn't even know what had happened! What did I do in my current or former life to deserve my son hating the Tigers? It hurts, so deeply inside, it hurts. Then, to add insult to injury, my husband quips, "he'll be injured in the next two weeks. Do you think other teams' general managers think "durability" when they think of Carlos Guillen?" Really, the gears in my brain are circling feverishly trying to identify terrible things I must have done to be the subject of such cruel barbs from my family. I'm heading to a local sports bar to watch the games in a non-hostile environment from now on.

Rick Porcello came into the game with a 2.29 groundball to flyball ratio, which Rod said is the best in the majors (over some time period, but I didn't catch exactly what, I think it was the time period since Rick came into the majors until now). This game was characterized by fly ball after fly ball for Pretty Little Ricky. What gives? Magglio Ordóñez made a funny catch against the right/center field wall. He went back for it, tripped against the wall at the last second, fell down as the ball came into his glove, but mercifully held on to it. If he had dropped it, derisive laughter would have followed from the previously mentioned Tiger haters in my household. As it was, we chuckled at the play, but it was all good-natured from my end, I assure you. Never any bad vibes for Mi Magglio.

The following is not an oddity at all. I'm not the least bit surprised that Roy Halladay threw a perfect game. He has always shown that he's more than capable of accomplishing the feat, and tonight he pulled it off. Congratulations, Roy, it's an achievement worthy of your stellar career. I followed the last couple outs on MLB.com's Gameday, and FSN showed the final out, a nice play at that, to preserve the perfection.

Tonight's Tiger game does not compare favorably to Roy's perfect game, so I won't mention any further details (like Laird being robbed of a home run, and later failing to pick a ball out of the dirt from cutoff man Adam Everett). Sigh.

Tigers vs. Yankees: A Fairy Tale

In a miraculous turn of events, today's game was not rained out. You can thank me for that, because I was going to the game, and therefore the weather had to conform itself to my wishes. I am not even kidding, I checked the forecast at least twenty times and each time it predicted rain to occur every hour of the day. EVERY hour. You figure it out, I sure can't. Not a single drop fell on Comerica Park the entire game. All of this was very fortuitous, because my mom was in town joining me for today's game, and can you imagine the bitter dregs of disappointment that a rainout would brew?

Also, the Tigers have won all four games I've been to this year. Today was no exception. We not only beat the Yankees, we shut them out, we scored SIX runs off CC Sabathia (/giggles with glee), Verlander pitched 6.2 innings of shutout ball, so what more could I ask for?

Oh, I guess I could have ordered up back-to-back home runs by Miguel Cabrera and Brennan Boesch. Even Gerald Laird had two RBIs today. I mean, come on, I couldn't script this stuff any better.

Derek Jeter, although leading off the game with an infield single, otherwise continued his hitting ineptitude that has characterized this series. I just got to use the words Derek Jeter and ineptitude in the same sentence! Alex Rodriguez had zero hits today! (/bursts into uproarious laughter)

It wouldn't be a fairy tale without a happy ending. Although Justin Verlander's pitch count reached 119 before the seventh inning was complete, Joel Zumaya and Eddie Bonine came in and combined to allow zero hits and zero runs. We took three of four from the most loathsome team in the league. Hurrah!

...and the Tigers continue to win games, Brennen Boesch and Austin Jackson play like veteran superstars all season long, the Tigers win the pennant, go on to the World Series, and all the little Tiger fans live happily ever after...

Damon Hits Walkoff Winner, Walks Off with Shaving Cream

Dramatics have been the modus operandi for the Tigers of late. Yesterday, Scott Sizemore and Brennan Boesch hit their first major league home runs in the same inning, Boesch's a Grand Salami to cap off an 8-run fourth. Today, Damon hit his first home run in a Tigers uniform, and came at a time calculated to endear himself to his teammates and the Detroit fan base.

Personally, I am maintaining a strict professional distance with Damon. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate his production, his loosey goosey clubhouse vibe, veteran/mentor status, blah, blah, blah...however, I do not forget that he comes here strictly as a merchant marine, hired gun mercenary. It's a one year deal. He'll be doing all this somewhere else next year, you dig?

Anyway, none of that tempers my adoration of the conclusion of today's festivities. I was there in spirit as the bench emptied and surrounded Damon in a riotous scrum.

I watched the Tigers post-game show for the first time all year, and saw the on-field interview with Damon, who was talking about the wind affecting his home-run's distance when he was blind-sided by Gerald Laird and a towel full of shaving cream. Laird scored a direct hit, and Johnny scooted away to the dugout to towel off. He actually returned to complete the interview, with shaving cream still clinging to his face, hair and ears. Very endearing indeed.

My heart remains detached as ever...

In the Midnight Hour

In a miraculous turn of events, I stayed up for last night's game. We really needed to come away with a W. I mean, things were getting ugly. We had dropped 2 of 3 to the Mariners, and were staring 3 straight losses to the Angels in the face. Enter Miguel Cabrera. One mighty swat tied the game at three in the ninth. MVP candidacy has been filed. What? It's only April? Ok, ok. Calm down. It's just a little dramatic-come-back-late-innings-victory hyperbole.

The remainder of the Tigers' half of the ninth was filled with a see-saw of emotions, with Carlos Guillen taking a base on balls, Brandon Inge striking out (the predictability of this at bat is painful), Gerald Laird entering the game as a pinch hitter (with curses heard 'round the world), Guillen stealing second, Laird drawing a walk, Carlos getting picked off attempting to steal third, but staying in a rundown long enough to get Laird down to second (or he may have been drawn and quartered upon returning to the dugout), Ramon Santiago hitting the unlikeliest of bloop singles to left off his shoetops, and Gerald Laird hauling himself admirably around third, and executing a gorgeous slide, swiping the bag with his hand to avoid the tag.

Papa Grande garnered the save in merciful 1-2-3 fashion. I would've whooped and hollered in jubilation, except everyone else in my house had already entered their REM cycles, and it would've been a little rude to wake them all up. Oh well, I settled for silent glee.

Our RISP woes subsided a bit last night as we went 2-4, while the Angels managed only 1-7. Five runners were marooned on the basepaths, which compares rather favorably to 10 on Tuesday, 8 on Monday, and 12 on Sunday.

Is it asking too much to split with the Angels tonight? Come on Justin, let's bring that 6.88 ERA down a smidge.

Games Attended 2009 Part Deux

Rewinding again to the season of 2009, I bring you more fascinating statistics from games I attended. I know, right, couldn't I come up with anything better to blog about in the offseason? Anyway, if you're up for it, here are some more useless facts.

Tigers starters lasted on average 5.9 innings at games I attended.

The dubious honor of the shortest start goes to Armando Galarraga with a sorry 2/3 of an inning on May 17. On the bright side, we won that game 11-7, so he didn't have to feel quite so dejected over getting the early hook. The Athletics sent ten batters to the plate that first inning, and scored 5 runs, all of them charged to Galarraga. Zach Miner came in and got a strikeout to end the inning. Miner stayed out there through the fifth, allowing two runs (including a solo shot to Orlando Cabrera in the fifth), Lucas French took the hill for the sixth and seventh, tossing scoreless frames, Perry set up in the 8th, and Rodney closed it out in one of his infamous non-save situations. Except that he was good in this particular non-save, allowing no hits, no runs, no walks--wow! Interesting about this game is a note scrawled across the bottom of my scorecard by my son stating "I want to go home, I want to go home." What kind of nine year old doesn't want to be at the ball game? What is wrong with my child? I'm still working on him. Sigh.

I did get to see a complete game by a Tigers starter last year, and it was thrown by Edwin Jackson on June 6 against the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. That hilarious moniker is actually on the scorecard by the way. This game was a 2-1 affair, which should come as no surprise, given the paltry run support Edwin got all year. Edwin gave up one run in the first, was then very efficient (only in the 4th did he not face the minimum batters), and struck out the side in the NINTH inning, for a grand total of 109 pitches. Gerald Laird cut down Chone Figgins after he led off the sixth with a single (Figgins stole 42 bases in '09 and was caught 17 times according to Baseball Reference). Notably, ALL of the game's runs were scored in the first. Polanco singled, and Clete Thomas walked, then Ordóñez and Granderson (who was batting fifth that day--Josh Anderson led off and played left), singled and sacrificed Polanco and Thomas home.

More unbearable rehash is on the way.

My Glass is Half Empty

Ok, so it's New Year's Eve, and I'm sitting at home because my kitten became suddenly and violently ill and needs constant nursing care. So I doffed the evening wear, pulled out the bobby pins, tried to comb the hair spray out of my ratty hair, and got comfy in my sweats. Uh, yeah. Right. I'm writing this post because I wanted to issue a resounding, guttural sigh of discontentment. After that, I'll think about possibly stifling myself to spare you from any more whining. But don't hold your breath.

Gerald Laird gets arrested for assaulting security guards. Come on. COME ON!

I mean, the Tigers off-season has become a brutal grind designed to pulverize our collective spirt. I feel like yelling Adam Sandler style.

I was running down the Tigers' projected starting lineup with a friend, and burst out laughing at our impotence half way through.

Dave Dombrowski's "This is not a fire sale" line cruelly taunts me as I watch our payroll plumb new depths.

I'm pretty sure that when the ball drops over Times Square tonight, it's gonna fall of its glittery axis, bound through the streets of Manhattan, hit the Interstate and squash my house. I'm prepped for it, anyway.

Happy New Year to you too.

Cringe-tastic!

I had such good feelings at the beginning of yesterday's finale with the Twinks. We had some great defensive plays (even one by Magglio!) that told me our guys were zoned in on clinching. So much for that.

During the rather strange unraveling of yesterday's game, rife with hit batters, retaliations and ejections, my constant thought was, "Don't do anything to get yourself suspended!" My hands frequently went up to my head as if to protect myself from possible brain explosion lest somebody do something rash that would have disastrous consequences. I'm sure it was in everyone's mind, as the dugouts and bullpens emptied harmlessly, with people in seeming slow motion toward each other. No one was rushing to throw a punch or anything, but it still made me nervous, because people who are angered can make some very unwise decisions in the heat of the moment, you know? When Marcus Thames bored holes through Scott Baker with his eyes, I was very, very concerned. Also, did you notice Miguel Cabrera getting REALLY chippy with the first base umpire? I had to plead with him to keep his head and not get tossed. He heard me, surely. That's because we met in Chicago and now have telepathic powers.

I knew when I was at the game Wednesday that Angel Hernandez would be Thursday's home plate umpire. I smelled trouble right away. Players tend to take issue with his strike zone, and that leads to frustration building up, tempers flaring, all kinds of bad, bad things. So, when Santiago was called out for leaving to early on a tag-up, I could see it all coming. Again, I'm imploring Leyland not to bump Hernandez. Sheesh, it's all a little too much stress for a fan to handle.

OK, Edwin, show us what you got tonight. We're all behind you.

An Apology Is In Order

In my post yesterday I said that only Justin Verlander and Placido Polanco showed up for yesterday's game.

That was oh so wrong.

Gerald Laird continued his brilliant dominance of would-be base stealers, cutting down Carlos Gomez! and Denard Span. I can't believe some people persist in grousing about his lack of offense. Are you serious?

I'll take this guy any day of the week. Our problem isn't that our catcher isn't hitting, it's that our entire team isn't hitting. I'm far more inclined to forgive a light-hitting catcher than say a light hitting third baseman. Just sayin'.

Anyway, I'm very sorry Gerald Laird. You showed up in a big way yesterday.

I Cannot Tell a Lie

It was me who jinxed the Tigers 10-0 shutout last night. I commented on Facebook about the game, and kerplooey it went in my face. My chagrin knows no limits. I am not superstitious, other than not mentioning a no-hitter when in progress. However, from now on I vow to hold fast to baseball players' mythical beliefs and cling to irrational, but structured routines, like not changing my underwear during a win streak. Think my family will mind? I'm the only female, so probably not (sadly). Could we have a little chat about hygiene? I'll save that for another post, since it's bound to involve a lengthy diatribe on my part.

Uh, Brandon Inge's tats are incredibly ugly, and because they're so prominent, he has no hope of them not being seen. Glad he likes 'em. If he has a third child, will that name go across his forehead in that huge, wicked font? Read Detroit4lyfe's post on them--it's very funny, with multiple rumors and updates on the story behind the ink.

I totally missed the dustup between Verlander and Laird, although I watched it on MLB.com today. I must've been playing Scrabble on Facebook while that went down. I'll retire to my nerdery now. I should know better than to try and multi-task during a game. I don't fit that female stereotype at all. One task at a time until completion, please.

I like Magglio in the three slot because he's getting on base more. He's brought his OBP up 20 points since the beginning of August (Baseball Reference). Maybe the Puma can continue to drive him in like last night. I think he can, I think he can, I think he can...

Please take the time to read Eye of the Tigers post on Cabrera's MVP candidacy. It's a well laid out, nicely documented argument, with good stats, and a nod to the current favorite, Joe Mauer. It's reassuring to know that my early season outburst of love for the big fella was not just a bunch of sychophantic blathering.

I doubt I'll be able to burn the midnight oil two nights in a row after being up past two last night. It's pathetic, but in my defense, I'm old. I'd better DVR the game just in case anything exciting happens. Also, the game will be safe from the hex I put on last night.

Anatomy of a Murder(ed Game)

Seven runners left on base.

0-4 with RISP.

Three GIDP, all inning-ending.

One baserunning gaffe.

Mega-squander of this outing from Galarraga: 7 IP, 5 H, 1 RUN (earned), 7 K, 1 BB.

Single, walk, TRIPLE in the 8th to surrender the lead we were clinging to by a strand of silken spider thread.

Long ball in the ninth, after we tied up the game in the bottom of the 8th.

Read enough yet?

Oh, seeing Carlos Guillen in the cages today gave me a glimmer of hope that our offense could have a pick-me-up coming, but how long before he makes sure he's able to "partipate in baseball activities" pain-free, gets his timing back, completes a rehab assignment, is ready to contribute.......well. according to Tigers.com, it's perhaps as soon as the end of this very month.

I did get two giggles from today's game.

In the top of the 4th, Willie Bloomquist tried to stretch a single and Raburn rifled the throw in to Polanco, who bobbled, but Bloomquist overslid the base, and Polanco got a hold of the ball and put the tag on for the out (Bloomquist may have been safe, but who am I to question an umpire?). The replay showed Galarraga barking something and generally going crazy trying to speak the out into existence as the circus played out. It was great comedy. I only wish I knew what he was saying out there.

In the bottom of the ninth, Gerald Laird singled to left. DeJesus stumbled, tumbled and tottered around before getting the ball in. I think he was just charging hard to try to make a play on the ball, so when it fell in, it was difficult to field. He was smiling sheepishly as he went back to left field. It gave me a little anger-diffusing laugh after the folly of our pitching in the 8th and 9th.

What angered me most, is that we need to win some of these close games, AND we're facing Greinke on Wednesday. Argh/sigh/groan/whimper/sniff.

I'll be at the CoPa tomorrow, and that is surely all the team needs to know to generate the will to win.

A Five Inning Game

Just kidding, but it was for me, because that's all I saw: innings twelve through sixteen. We spent the afternoon and evening at the park, stayed for fireworks, and made it home a little before midnight. Imagine my surprise (and delight) to see that the game was still on thanks to extras.

Now, I'm not delighted that we used every single arm in our pen (and watched Galarraga warm up too), but I am delighted that I got to see some Tiger baseball, and that we came out on the winning end of that marathon. Sounds like I missed a stellar outing by Zumaya--good, he needed that. I also missed French's debut, blowing of a six-run lead, a meltdown by Zach Miner, home runs by Thames and Laird, Jim Leyland walking Mauer and Morneau to load the bases in the 11th, and it working, you know--11 innings worth of ball.

I'm sorry to say I did see Polanco take a ball of his package--wince, cringe. He was either none the worse for wear, or angry, because he proceeded to get two RBIs after that to help us on to victory.

Well, we made that victory a lot more difficult than it should have been, but it is a win, and it kept the White Sox from gaining, so that's always a good thing. But now, day game today at the Metrodump. Hmmm, if we could win another there it would be nothing short of incredible. We've come to see wins there as such a rarity, that losses neither surprise nor anger us especially. But winning a series there, now that would be something, wouldn't it? So come on boys, rally 'round Polanco's package and take at least two of three from the Twinks at the dome.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

Oh, the agony.  I had to sit at Comerica Park and witness Fernando Rodney take Verlander's gem and pulverize it.  I had to watch Curtis Granderson foul out to end the game, after we had closed the gap from 2-0 to 2-1, and had the tying run on third.  You may have noticed a maddening trend.  The Tigers, when trailing in a game late, play games with our emotions, staging a comeback, but falling tragically short.  

Is it possible that such an outing by a starter has been squandered so needlessly?  Our offense is so anemic, I'm prescribing prenatal vitamins to all.  They'd better be out there for 6:00 am batting practice tomorrow.  

Magglio Ordóñez and Gerald Laird both had doubles, but neither scored.  Whimper...groan.

It was exciting when the crowd realized Miguel Cabrera was coming into the game to pinch hit for Clete Thomas.  It was like mighty Casey was stepping to the plate.  Very electric.  It was a tad underwhelming when he walked, but certainly better than a strike-out.

One funny/pathetic note.  After Laird's double, the scoreboard displayed the slogan "Be Scared of Laird."  Seriously.

Can we really hope that Edwin Jackson, he of the very paltry run support, actually gets some tomorrow?  It may be asking too much.

Oh yeah, and a triple play

I failed to mention that Detroit had the dubious honor tonight of having a triple play turned on them.  I guess it would be stupid to pretend it didn't happen.  Gerald Laird is gonna have to be the scapegoat for this.  Wait, not the whole goat, as Leyland had the hit and run on, which enabled the whole thing to come together very neatly for the Rangers.  

OK, here's how it went.  Inge on 2nd, Raburn on 1st.  Laird hits a liner to Kinsler, who flips to Andrus at second, who then tags Raburn to complete the trifecta.   Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Well, that would have been a real punch to the gut if not for the teensy little fact that we won the game.  All's well that ends well!

Off Day Musings

I don't like these early off days.  My thirst for Tiger baseball is insatiable.  The season just got started.  Sorry to have such a selfish point of view.

A couple minor points I'd like to bring up.  Our lower part of the order and bench/utility guys are making valuable contributions thus far.  Nice--I like that.  It's a good sign, IMO.  We won't have to rely on the big boys doing it all every day.  I LOVE that we're moving runners up so much better than last year.  Laird really impresses on the base paths for someone who doesn't look that fast.  Josh Anderson practices the art of bunting like a fiend, and executes it pretty well too.

Here's an amusing little anecdote for you.  The other day, my son and I were playing catch at the park.  Just tossing the ball back and forth--nothing too serious, since I am athletically challenged and all.  Anyway, one of his throws caroms off my glove and hits me smack in the middle of the forehead.  He rushes over and apologizes like crazy.  I tell him it's all part of playing ball.  I wasn't too worried--it hurt, but it wasn't like a line drive off a bat, or a 97 mph Ryan Perry fastball, you know?  I wasn't seeing stars or anything.  I shook it off and we kept playing.  I wondered whether I'd have a nice goose egg out of it.  When we got home I checked, and sure enough, there was quite a lump, but more robin-egg sized.  I wore it like a badge of honor.  I felt just like Drew Barrymore in Fever Pitch.  This shows you how very little sports I've played in my lifetime.   Anyway, I feel really bad for someone who really gets smoked by a hard hit ball, because it's still really sore three days later.  It's easy to see how major damage is caused (Juan Encarnacion).

Catch up with you tomorrow night for the Seattle game.

Excuse Me, Are You Sure This is 2009?

Time warp.  I could swear tonight's game was straight out of 2008.  If it weren't for Gerald Laird, Adam Everett and Josh Anderson, you would have been hard-pressed to convince me otherwise.

There was Justin, racking up 35 pitches in the first inning, and 80 over 3 2/3, before being bombed out of the game.

There was a reliever (granted it was Eddie Bonine, who made five starts with the big club last year, but no relief appearances), letting inherited runners score--with flair, though--a three run homer to the first batter faced!  To be fair, he then settled down, and did just fine.

There was another reliever (ok, another one who wasn't with the Tigers in 2008, Juan Rincon) who had runners circling the bases like little tots getting dizzy on the Big Cat Carousel.

It's the events of the game that gave the feel of 2008, not necessarily the personnel, except for Verlander, who was impersonating his filthy-in-a-bad-way 2008 performances spot on.

On the bright side--believe it--Nate Robertson looked pretty darn good in relief.  Let's hope that bulldog pitches "more left-handed" and earns his spot back, so we can have at least one lefty in the rotation.

Well, the first one is under our belt, and I admit that I was a little nervous before the game.  Geez, I'm not even a player.  What a doorknob.

I started my blog after the season last year, so this is my first "in-season" post after a game.  I haven't read any other commentary (neither mainstream media nor blogs) yet, and didn't even watch "Tigers Live" after the game on FSN due to the NCAA championship.  I'm glad, because I don't want to inadvertently be influenced by others' analysis.  So, anything here that echos anything else is purely coincidental, ya dig?

Here are a couple of final notes:

In the bottom of the sixth inning, Bonine was facing second baseman Aaron Hill, and threw a spectacular pitch on a 2-2 count to strike him out.  The bottom dropped out so well that the ball got away from Laird and he had to track it down and complete the strikeout by throwing over to first.  That pitch was a little diamond (ok, maybe a diamelle--one of those synthetic diamonds) in a steaming pile of manure that was our pitching tonight.

I liked what Rod Allen said about Gerald Laird and his take on Nate Robertson's pitching performances from last year.  Texas got a hold of him pretty good a couple times last year (hey, who didn't?), so Laird saw what was happening.  Rod suggested that maybe Laird can give Robertson a fresh perspective on his pitching.  I hope that's true.  Take all the advice you can get, Nate, and use it to make us all forget your irrational, malcontented ravings about not starting.

I'm going to be like a pitcher tonight, and put a bad game QUICKLY out of mind.  Move on.  The rest of the Jays staff isn't exactly Roy Halladay, and we did get to him a little tonight.

Tomorrow's game will be played in 2009.

Instant Infield and Closing in on Closer

Holy schnikies, I go to bed early and wake up to find that the Tigers have traded for Gerald Laird, then I go to work, take a walk with my son, pick up dinner, and voila, the Tigers have signed Adam Everett.  I can't wait to see what happens during the 15 minutes I'm gone to drop my son off at school tomorrow morning.  I guess the Tigers wanted to string us along for just about ever, and then blast off into a signing frenzy.

Now they turn their sights to a high profile, urgent need at closer.  And, what do you know, due to our value moves made so far, we've got a little cash to invest.  I like the sound of that (although still feeling a little Smoltzitis--we'll be watching Morosco and Melo's development over the next couple years).  The big present under the tree this year may be Kerry Wood or J.J. Putz.

Can someone please tell me why the sports talk idiots are so far behind the curve on breaking Tigers news?  They intro a piece like it's something brand new, and come to find out the story is about ready to fossilize.  I'm driving home from work today, and the guy's like, breaking news, the Tigers trade for Gerald Laird.  Uh, even I, the latecomer, read that at 7:00 am this morning, geniuses.  Isn't this your job??  Whatever--they're too hung up on Rod Marinelli's latest press conference where he's expressing how much he "believes in what he's doing."  Yeah, that's compelling sports news.  Actually, maybe it is, because the Lions are about to become the first NFL franchise to go 0-16.

I like to see that our defense is improving before our very eyes, but I don't relish the though of our 7-8-9 hole in the lineup.  Let's hope Lloyd McClendon can work some magic in the batting cages during Spring Training.