Games Attended 2009: Part the Third

Well, here I am again to regurgitate some 2009 fodder for your reading pleasure (or pain as the case may be). Part three of this series looks at offensive performances. Not offensive as in repugnant, but you know, offense as in the boys who wield the bats. Well, I will cover the good, the bad, and the otherwise notable for games I attended in 2009, so I guess offensive does work in both senses, but I digress.

I saw the Tigers get skunked only once in 2009, and that was not even at Comerica Park. The game was September 25 in Chicago at the Cell. Poor Eddie Bonine pitched pretty much brilliantly for 6 2/3 innings, and we couldn't bring a single baserunner around to score. We got a man to second base in the second, third and sixth innings, but failed miserably at bringing them home. Jake Peavy was on the hill for the Sox, so that tells you a little bit. Polanco had three singles, and everyone else pretty much whiffed all day. Peavy ended up with 8 Ks over seven innings pitched, and our Bengals racked up 12 strikeouts for the game. Not exactly the road victory I was hoping for, but nobody poured beer on me, so I guess I shouldn't complain.

The Tigers score 10 runs or more three times at games I saw in person during the 2009 season. The greatest offensive outburst I witnessed last year occurred the day after the game I described above, again in Chicago against the White Sox (is this starting to feel like the Twilight Zone or what?). The Tigers whomped the Sox 12-5 on September 26, and after this game Ozzie Guillen got a mite testy, so I dug out the quote for you:

"If they think the season's over for them, yes," Guillen said. "If they think it's over for me, no. I want to make it clear: There's a bunch of [expletives] out there watching football games like a piece of [expletive] with no pride. By the way they [expletive] play, that's embarrassing. If you don't have pride about the way you play, get another job.

"I'm not in a pennant race, but at least I have some pride. When you get [to the clubhouse] and turn on a stupid-ass football game when those [expletive] football players don't give a [expletive] about you, that's embarrassing. We've got seven games [left]. They are going to pull their [expletive] together, period. I don't mind losing a game, but when you lose a game and you don't care about it, we are going to have a problem. To get your asses kicked like that and all of a sudden, you're watching football games? That's a bunch of [expletive]."

It's ALWAYS a barrel of laughs to hear Ozzie hold forth. Unfortunately, his scathing words on this occasion had the proper effect, because the Sox then proceeded to beat the Tigers two out of three in the final series of the season, and you know what happened after that. Sorry to break open old wounds.

Back to the game. Miguel Cabrera had a four hit, four RBI night, Curtis Granderson plated three, Polanco and Ordóñez each knocked two home, and Adam Everett got in on the action by bringing in one of his own. We batted around twice, scoring four runs in both the 7th and 8th innings. An entertaining away game to attend, no?

It's a little difficult to choose just one, but my offensive performance of the year (for games attended) goes to:

Ramon Santiago

May 17, 1009 vs. Oakland Athletics

Ramon had four at bats, four hits, four RBI, and his hits came like this:

2nd - triple, RBI

3rd - home run (to deep center field!), 3 RBI

5th - single

7th - single

One other notable performance that comes to mind is from July 21 vs. the Seattle Mariners. The rumors about the Tigers cutting Magglio were swirling so fast it appeared a tornado was imminent. He was embattled and beleaguered. My Tiger's future as a wearer of the Old English D was murkier than Lake Erie. On that day, Magglio swatted a grand slam in the first inning off Garrett Olson, and I felt that if he was going to be gone, that was the way to go out. Please don't point out (if you remember) that the blast came off of a 79 MPH curve. Such scoffing has no impact on me.

Have you got what it takes to stomach a fourth installment?

Walking Away Empty-Handed

When the game-winning run crossed the plate for the Twins on Tuesday, here's how I felt in the following moments. "He felt something cold and soulless enter him like another being and he imagined that it smiled malignly and he had no reason to believe it would ever leave." (Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses) A little hyperbolic perhaps, but a true enough representation.

Now, I’m finally in a frame of mind to put a coda to this season. Well, maybe not all the way there, but coping well enough to write without spewing incomprehensible garbage all over the place. Yes, I believe I do have what psychologists might term an “unhealthy emotional relationship” with Tiger baseball. Admitting you have a problem IS the first step you know. I may yet determine that abstinence is the only treatment for addiction, and begin following rhythmic gymnastics or race-walking. Twirling ribbons and gait-policing is where it’s at.

Yesterday was black, and I had to stay away from all media. All I saw after the end of Game 163 was the interview with Orlando Cabrera. Then I had to go underground for a little bit. I didn’t see any post-game pressers, didn’t watch one minute of ESPN, banned reading of newspapers and blogs, and most definitely stayed far away from sports radio. A friend let me vent a little via text. Thanks for saving innocent people from blasts of misdirected rage. Last evening, I gingerly tested the waters by clicking on the Tigers web site, and reading a couple blogs—in small doses, mind you.

I’ve always maintained that I’m not superstitious. That goes out the window as of right now. I’ve now twice had post-season tickets go unused. In 2006, I had tickets to World Series Game 6. I still break out into a pathetic blend of maniacal laughter and sobs when I think about that. This year, I foolishly purchased ALDS Game 3 tickets off the Tiger web site the day they went on sale. Never again. I vow to scalp tickets at outlandish prices from now on and stop jinxing my team. You have my word on that.

On Tuesday, some irrevocable commitments kept me from watching the game right at 5:00, so I DVRed the game and started watching it around 6:00. At that point, I had to put myself in a bubble and stay away from the computer and not read the texts that kept arriving at my cell phone. I had no idea the journey I was in for. I kept thinking I’d catch up to real time at some point. Then panic set in as I actually had to contemplate that I might run out of “tape” since I had set the recording for a total of six hours.

As to the game itself, it was incredible. I don’t take any issue with my team or its effort. Both teams battled like Titans. MLB must’ve been giddy over this contest.

Whining about the officiating is strictly verboten here. I saw plenty the Twins could have argued over in Marsh’s strike zone, and they did get a little chippy here and there. I will say that I believe he should have appealed on the Inge HBP, because his sight line was not good on the play. But to point to any one play and hang the game on it? No way. We had our chances and could not come through, creating a fitting microcosm of our whole season neatly wrapped up in the final game. I hate excuses.

I will call out Jim Leyland for leaving Rodney out there in the 12^th. I don’t care if he asked for the ball. He had performed his job, and very well, but had already pitched 2 2/3 innings. No way he goes back out there. Sure, he’s the best person to close out a game, but he stops being that best person after he’s thrown 48! pitches. It’s not like we were completely out of options in the bullpen and were ready to start warming up a position player. I realize some of those options were not what you’d want for the situation at hand. Still.

The main source fueling my anger is our stretch-run play. Non-play is more like it. It was so horrific the only descriptor I have is schrecklich. Sorry to go other language on you, but that’s the best expression of my angst. We lost 4 of 6 to the Sox in the last week of the season. When the Sox acquired Jake Peavy in the final moments before the July 31 trade deadline, I knew it was going to haunt us. Everyone shot me down, saying “Peavy’s injured,” “Who knows when he’ll pitch again.” Well, he didn’t come back in time to help Chicago’s playoff cause, but he sure put a crunk in ours. Two shutouts. Blanked us twice in week’s time. GAHHHHH!

Maybe my anger is just a blustery front to cover up the brokenness inside. Maybe I need to face up to it and go have a little cry in a dark room somewhere, so I can come out and let go. Life’s hard without baseball.

Catharsis

Well, yesterday began with anticipation. At lunchtime, I was aflutter with excitement, by 4:00 I was awash with anger and envy, and at around midnight, deep disgust set in.

Quite a day for the emotions all in all. I was very anxious to see whether we'd make any moves all day at work. At lunch, I had to run out, so I got the news on sports talk radio that we'd acquired Jerrod Washburn. Instant excitement! If you read my previous post, I had requested Jerrod Washburn, so my wish came magically true. Then, I was REALLY figuring we'd get that bat, since we didn't have to part with all our chips to get Washburn.

As the deadline approached, I got home from work , and tuned in to MLB.TV and frantically scanned the Internet for news. When four o'clock came and went with no word of a deal, I held out hope that one was made just at the deadline and would shortly be announced. A deal was announced shortly thereafter, but it was one that stunned and sunk my emotions simultaneously.

The Sox get Peavy? No! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I know they gave up a lot to get him. I know he's on the DL, with an uncertain return date. It still squashed all my newfound swagger. Now our failure to add a bat feels that much more crucial. Ugh.

To add insult to injury, we lost to what my Indians fan neighbor now calls a minor league team. I stayed 'til the bitter end, and a bitter pill it was indeed. What the stink was Mark Shapiro thinking giving up VIctor Martinez, who wanted to stay, who cried in his press conference. Don't you want to keep a player like that? A quality talent who wants to be with your club? Boggling my mind all day long.

Anyway, Indians are inducting Sandy Alomar Jr. into the team's Hall of Fame tonight, so expect a big crowd.