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.

Wonder Twin Powers Activate!

So, my friend Nicole sponsored a trip to the CoPa yesterday (thank you!), and a few strange adventures occurred. First of all, it was such a beautiful day. The sun was out, there was not a cloud in the sky, and I even needed to apply SUNSCREEN. You must recognize that this beautiful day was an aberration of eric proportions for this Spring-that-never-was. It was glorious.

Get a load of this. The first game that Nicole and I attended this year was on April 12. At this game, Josh Hamilton broke his shoulder sliding into home on that notorious play. This time, Eric Chavez broke his foot sliding into third. Coincidence? I think not! We obviously have the mysterious power to fracture bones of the opposition with our very presence at the park. We were thinking that we should be sure to attend a White Sox game next.

It was Paws' 16th birthday celebration (sigh). I'm not gonna lie to you. Mascots creep me out. I spent the day trying to avoid the myriad mascot representatives that were brought in for the festivities. We had a close call by the escalators, but I managed to escape without being accosted. Muddy and Muddona were there from the Hens, the Pirates' Parrot, Sparty, and some really scary looking clown were there among some mercenaries like the Bell Tire tire and the Comcast remote (come on). Paws got a new car driven out by his father! See photo evidence below. All photos in this post are courtesy of Nicole Maitland and may not be reused without expressed written permission.

Nicole is a big Will Rhymes fan. She was none too pleased with Flea getting pushed out of the big club by Mr. Sizemore. She has begun a grass-roots campaign with the slogan "Bring Back Will." She vows to send this cryptic message to Jim Leyland himself every day until Rhymes regains his footing in the bigs. Needless to say, her slogan got a lot of play yesterday, since Sizemore whiffed three times.

I have found the one person in the world who does not like Curtis Granderson. Nicole insisted on calling him Traitor throughout the game, despite my protests that he didn't ask to be traded. She wished a lousy performance on poor little CJ, with mixed results. Curtis was one for three, with a single, walk and a strikeout. I felt bad for Grandy. He didn't really deserve to be bad-mouthed like that.

Boesch had himself quite a day at the plate, single, home run, three RBI. He also reached base on one of the THREE Yankee errors. Funny stuff. I take anything the other team gives me. Sloppy play? Yes, I take it. If you want to turn the game into bush league stuff, I am happy to oblige.

Burnett had a no-hitter going into the sixth, but we promptly jinxed it up by mentioning it loudly and repeatedly, and generally acting like idiots. It worked, so don't question our methods. Thank you. We did fool a guy sitting next to us. He looked over and asked if we were Yankee fans. We laughed and said no. He later realized we were serious fans and discussed some baseball matters with us. He and his girlfriend left early to "beat traffic." Might want to just catch it on FSN next time, my friends. Why bother hauling it all the way to park to bail before the game is over? I'm sorry. That's stupid.

Kid Rick was not at his best, but managed to eke a quality start out of it, and Jim Leyland ran him out there for the seventh after he had already thrown 106 pitches! I was agape, and terrified. It worked out fine, however, and my fears were unwarranted...I guess. The outing ended up with Porcello throwing a career high 120 pitches. /shudders

Finally, some guy dove into the Yankee dugout during the game and was promptly jumped on and pinned down until a phalanx of security arrived to escort the guy to Tigers jail. I've already written once about how Joe Girardi is an emotionless automaton, but Nicole checked ESPN's account of the incident during the game and it said that Girardi did not appear to have much of a reaction. Big surprise. The guy's a droid, I am convinced.

A Modest Proposal

Miguel Cabrera. His off-field behavior may have impacted our shot at the playoffs last year. Some people can’t let it go, and I get that. Me? I still roll up into a ball and rock back and forth when I think about a collapse that rivaled the Bridge of San Luis Rey. Miguelito is making mad money, and many reckon that a giant performance yardstick is thereby created. The Puma better measure up, or the fans will crucify said cat.

My “muse” for today’s editorial is none other than the dreaded Sports Talk Radio, specifically Mike Valenti and Terry Foster on 97.1. Don't judge, you probably watch Jersey Shore. Some fans called in and said there is no way they’ll root for Miggy, no matter what he does this year, on or off the field. Mike Valenti agreed, and swore never to don his Cabrera jersey again. Terry Foster asserted that Cabrera’s got little margin for error, and because of his contract, fans in this (economically challenged) area will not embrace him unless he puts up Albert Pujols-esque numbers.

Persons who become incredibly wealthy playing a game rightfully do not receive a lot of sympathy. Persons who desecrate our hallowed pastime receive the unmitigated ire of ardent followers. Persons who imbibe obscene amounts of alcohol with the opposition the night and into the morning before a critical game are asking to be tarred and feathered and then defeathered by a hungry African tiger from the Detroit Zoo.

All that being said, Miguel Cabrera may have taken the weight of the Tigers’ world on his shoulders and found it too much. Much was made of his lack of clutch hitting last season. For quite a while, he had little protection due to slumps and injuries to other players. That’s part of it. The other part may be that a young kid who loves to play the game and have fun playing it was so burdened that he couldn’t stay loose enough to perform. Michael Rosenberg's piece is quite compelling. People who feel that kind of duress need an outlet. What’s it gonna be?

I’m not really under any undue strain, but when I do get stressed, my outlets are working out and Tigers games. Those are pretty healthy options (uh, the Tigers games are debatable), but it’s not always easy to make a good choice. Insert food binge and subsequent self-loathing here. We all know that working out is a proven physiological stress-breaker. Professional sports give adults all over the world an escape from the mundane. For athletes though, working out and playing games are part of their jobs, so they’ve got to get creative. Johnny Damon thinks the answer is naked pullups in the clubhouse. Um, don’t see how too many teammates would appreciate eye-level views of his package, but ok.

Another issue is whether Cabrera is in denial. He scolded reporters for saying he was an alcoholic, and said that his problems were not alcohol-related. Huh? I think getting drunk and using abusive language on an overweight teenager qualify as alcohol-related. Cabrera better have a little chat with Josh Hamilton. A lot people take exception to having a “babysitter” for an adult professional. I look at it more as a support system/outlet that some people might need. If calling in the Big Cat himself works, I’m all about it. Who wouldn’t want a player of Andres Galarraga’s caliber around anyway? It’s win-win-win-win....

Denial or not, Cabrera did the right thing this off-season. He got some treatment. I hope one of his assignments was writing a brain-stormy list of good alternatives to booze on one of those giant pads of paper with an oversize sharpie. Scratch that--too many inhalable fumes.

I think most of us fans make emotional decisions about players at times. We have our predilections about guys that we may not even be able to quantify. So if someone we don’t really care for anyway does something reprehensible, it results in permanent banishment.

What a windbag. What I should have just said instead of wasting time you could have spent catching up on these glorious Spring Training photos, is that I’ll be giving Miguel Cabrera another chance this year. If pervy, rug-wearing Marv Albert can get another shot, the Puma ought to get one too.

MVP

This morning, Mike Greenburg of Mike & Mike in the Morning said that the AL MVP should go to CC Sabathia, since Albert Pujols will win the NL MVP, and there really is no deserving candidate in the AL.

Let's take a look at potential AL MVP candidates:

Francisco Rodriguez, 62 of 69 save opportunities, 2.24 ERA, 77 SO over 68.1 IP

Dustin Pedroia, .326 AVG, 17 HR, 82 RBI, 52 SO, 52 BB, .376 OBP, .493 SLG

Joe Mauer, .328 AVG, 9 HR, 85 RBI, 50 SO, 84 BB, .413 OBP, .451 SLG

Kevin Youkilis, .312 AVG, 29 HR, 115, RBI, 108 SO, 62 BB, .390 OBP, .569 SLG

Justin Morneau, .300 AVG, 23 HR, 129 RBI, 85 SO, 76 BB, .374 OBP, .499 SLG

Josh Hamilton, .304 AVG, 32 HR, 130 RBI, 126 SO, 64 BB, .371 OBP, .530 SLG

Carlos Quentin, .288 AVG, 36 HR, 100 RBI, 80 SO, 66 BB, .394 OBP, .571 SLG

I guess it is clear that none of these guys are a runaway like Albert Pujols (although he and CC would've really had a tight race if CC had spent the whole year in the NL).  To put it mildly, and to state the obvious I'm astounded by Pujols.  His numbers are absolutely crazy, and you gotta love him.

In looking over the stat lines for these AL players, it is really difficult.  I feel for Carlos Quentin, who's working against an incomplete season (although self-inflicted).

My vote goes to Kevin Youkilis, because he had a killer OPS, hit for average and power, had 115 RBIs, and plays stellar defense (and can play more than one position).  To be honest though, I almost felt like changing my answer, even after I typed his name.  His weaknesses (relative to these other MVP candidates) were baserunning and strikeouts.

Who is your 2008 AL MVP?