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.

Harden My Heart

..."In my wildest dreams

I never thought I'd go

But its time to let you know

I'm gonna harden my heart

I'm gonna swallow my tears

I'm gonna turn and leave you here."

I've been in the abusive relationship long enough. I'm going to a shelter. Someplace you can't come and find me and try to get me to come back. Leaving tonight.

Will the Losing of Series Please Come to a Halt?

Fear not, Tigers fans, I am going to help us to get back on track after losing two of three to the Twins (/gags), Braves and Mets. Tomorrow night, I will be at the ballpark for the first time in quite a while. I apologize for neglecting my duties as team good luck charm. Things have conspired to keep me away from the park. Tomorrow, that all comes to an end. I am taking a group of family to the game, and since the Tigers are undefeated this year in games in which I was in attendance, I am going to go out on a limb and say we are going to win tomorrow night. Go ahead and skewer me for jinxing everything.

My husband has already warned the entire group not to bother me during the game. Good. He saves me the trouble of shooing pesky, non-game-watching people away. These folks are well-meaning, but need to learn to save non-game talk for non-game time. Let's not discuss Aunt Betty's recent health troubles during the ballgame shall we? My mother says I once rebuked her at a game for changing seats during an inning. I mean, am I being unreasonable here? Please tell me if I am. I want to know such things.

Ok. We're a game and a half back of the Twinks. I hate them. Most passionately. I will also be at the series finale versus the Twins on Sunday of next week, with another family outing. Heaven help them. I will do all I can to defeat the evil that is Twinkie-dom. Especially Jason Kubel. He is the root of all evil, I think. I am researching some very effective hexes right now to cause his bat (and glove) to always miss the ball. As if that's not enough, I am also working on a way to bring Cliff Lee here without giving up Brennan Boesch. I know, right? This would be awesome! You're welcome.

Fever Pitch

Remember the scene from "Fever Pitch" after Jimmy Fallon's character and Drew Barrymore's character break up and it looks like the Red Sox are tanking? He is found by his friends sitting in his darkened apartment, watching the Bill Buckner error over and over again, while the Carl Yastrzemski song plays hauntingly in the background. He's unshowered, unshaven and sitting next to a pile of chicken bones stacked up on a newspaper.

I think I may have reached that point. You will find me sitting in my darkened living room, watching 2009 Game 163 over and over again, muttering, "Brandon Inge's jersey was hit by that pitch," and listening to "April in the D." I haven't shaved my legs in weeks, and the side table is littered with Thai take-out boxes. Too graphic for you? Sorry.

Thankfully, pitchers and catchers report in three weeks, so I may yet be saved from utter ruin.

So I took my son to basketball practice this week, which happened to be at a local elementary school, and lo and behold, what did I find on the hallway bulletin board? It was a public service poster featuring none other than Curtis Granderson and Paws. Curtis was running out of the center of the poster clad in his Tiger uniform (sob), and Paws was featured around him engaged in various fitness exercises: leg lifts, lunges, stretches and pushups, all set on the Comerica Park grass. Repeat after me, Opening Day is only two months away. Sigh.

What washed up player do you think the Tigers will target next? I was so thankful to see the Brewers sign Jim Edmonds to a minor league contract.

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.

Collective Exhale

I hope we're all using this last off-day of the season to catch up on some non-Tiger-related areas of our lives. However, I admit that most of my life is consumed by the Tigers and Tiger-related themes. See, I'm writing this post right now. I've read Tiger blogs today, along with the Tigers web site, and local newspapers' Tiger coverage. The phrase "get a life" does come to mind, but I shove it aside dismissively.

This weekend's series nearly became my undoing. After Saturday's wretched loss, I found myself near tears contemplating our season ending without the playoffs. Get a hold of yourself, woman!

Well, we got the win yesterday, behind unlikely starter Nate Robertson. I'd imagine he feels pretty satisfied right now, contributing in large part to a significant victory. It's a far cry from losing a spot in the rotation out of Spring Training, grousing about it openly to the media, and hearing cries for his outright release.

Will any of you be attending the 1984 anniversary celebration on September 28th?

Could you take a moment to share memories of that fabled season? If you're too young to remember it first-hand, tell us some stories that were told to you. You may have also watched some of the games as "classics." Tell us what you thought of the '84 squad.

I'll tell you this, I'll never forget Kirk Gibson and Sparky Anderson talking about how Goose Gossage didn't want to walk Gibby, and the glorious shot Gibby punished him with that day in Game 5. How Sparky's hand went to his mouth as he watched the ball get launched into the stands. How Dick Williams must have kicked his own tail quite literally for letting Gossage talk him out of that walk. Glory days.

Here's to having some glory days to savor from 2009.

Shaking in My Boots

Um, I'm what you might mildly term a nervous wreck for tonight's opener against the Twins at the Metrodump. We play like garbage there most nights, and it's no wonder, what with the giant garbage bag of an outfield wall they have. That place is a nightmare. Our record against the Twins this year at the dome is a terrifying 1-5. Let's all give thanks the place is being shuttered after this season.

Another reason for my trepidation is Minnesota's manager Ron Gardenhire. I respect him highly as a manger, and he squeezes more victories out of a smaller payroll than anyone I know. He also seems to be a genius in the motivational department, as the Twins are always making a late run at the playoffs.

Why is the fact that Justin Morneau and Joe Crede (wretched Tiger killer) are both out for the season not making me feel any better? Sigh.

I feel a great need for moral support for tonight's game. Shall we designate a sports bar to meet up, hold each other's hands and make it through this game together? Just name the place, I will be there.

17, A Number I Loathe

I'm brimming with disgust right now that our magic number stands at 17, after four straight losses. I know that the Twinks and Sox continue to help us out by losing when we lose, but I'd like to put a dent in this number already. We have to play the Twins and White Sox seven and six more times respectively. That scares me more than the fact that my house is now worth less than a big bag of cat litter.

We need to win tonight. I'm sorry, but that's just how I feel. I'm not in panic mode, but I don't want to see us take this thing to the last game of the season. That was exciting in 1987. This year, it would cost me several thousand neurons.

OK. Our pitching is scuffling big time right now. Our bats are trying to enter early hibernation. Well, let's break out of this funk now, seal the division and focus on the playoffs. Please? I'm not too proud to beg.

I will say one thing about Fernando Rodney's suspension. I didn't see it happen, but watched the replay. His weak attempt to say he was tossing the ball to fans has no credence whatsoever. The penalty was excessive, but why appeal? Serve it right away and get it over with. We will need him down the stretch. I really find that whole move totally bewildering. Don't take a stand on principal when you're in a pennant race. If it had been like 10 games, fine, but three? More disgust.

I would like Sean of Trumbull and Michigan to break out his preseason blogger predictions and see how many of us thought the Tigers would make the playoffs. I believe that I responded yes to that question. Let's hope that holds up so I can brag about my foresight, defying baseball analysts and whatnot.

Feels Like the First Time

Tonight I have the great pleasure of taking my nephew to his very first Major League Baseball game. He's nine years old, plays baseball, and likes baseball. This should be fun.

We face our divisional nemesis the Minnesota Twins. Taking the hill is Armando Galarraga. This could be a pivotal series for us.

To say I'm excited for tonight's game is a bit of an understatement. My aunt and uncle took me to my first game, and I now have the privilege of taking my nephew to his first. It's surely poetic justice.

That's about all for now, as I must get ready to depart for the game, but I just wanted to give a shout out to young Bailey before his first game.

Full report to follow afterward.

Gift Horse: Looked in the Mouth

I have been waiting for the perfect opportunity to share these snaps with you.  Today seems to be the day, as the Tigers (Morris' 77-90 team) are playing the Twins (Morris' 91 team and current employer--he's in his 6th year as a Twinkies broacaster).  You surely do not recall (I don't expect retention of the fare produced here) that I mentioned I was going to the game on Monday, May 4.  The giveaway that night was a Jack Morris jersey/t-shirt.

Due to the reduced numbers of Tiger faithful at the CoPa this year, I became one of the 10,000 fortunate fans to receive the #47 tent/awning, I mean jersey/t-shirt.  My first thought was to wonder whether Morris had to approve the t-shirt.  Now, I feel a little guilty bagging on a freebie, because I kind of hate when people complain about stuff that's given to them, but somehow my I managed to shove that feeling aside long enough to get this post up, so...

I think there was only one size--XL.  I thought I saw some people with smaller sizes on, but someone said they were told there was only one size.  I understand that it would be a logistical nightmare to have different sizes, and you've got to just put it out there as is, and whoever likes it/wants it is happy.  Mine fits me like a glove--yeah, Shaq's glove.  I  mean, I'm not a small girl, but let's just say it's a lot of fabric.  Maybe I'm looking at this all wrong.  I should be thinking, this is a t-shirt for two.  Let's get snug in it together.  The Belle Tire logo is ever so prominently displayed on the arm.  Sure, they sponsored the promotion, they want recognition.  Who can forget Belle Tire, what with the same ad running between every half inning on FSN (and then in our heads like a hamster on a wheel)?

Anyway, the Tigers have done some really great promotional giveaways--like the DVD of Verlander's no-hitter.  That was a gem.   Sorry I wasn't more grateful for this one.

The Metro-dump

I wish I could say this is the last time the Tigers will play in the landfill known as the Metrodome.  Sadly, barring post-season play, that date does not arrive until September 20, 2009. 

Allow me to express, with heightened fervor, my abject abhorrence of the park in which home games are played by the Minnesota Twins.  The reasons are obvious, but I don't mind mentioning them:

The Baggie--offensive in its garbage bag plasticity.  This is not a wall, it's a disposable partition fashioned of sheeting.

The Carpet--so wretchedly ugly, so unnatural in its surface.  It makes balls go fast and take stupid hops.

The Dome--with its weird currents (and I love--and subscribe to--the conspiracy theory that its heating/cooling system is rigged in favor of the Twinkies).

So happy someone approved funds for a new park.  So ecstatic to see our Tigers relieved of the unfriendly Metrodome confines after 2009.  So enamored of the sight unseen Target Field, simply because it is NOT the stinking homerdome.  I did see some pictures/progress notes here.

Seriously?

Please tell me I was dreaming, and that we did not have another disastrous inning last night.  Crap, I just saw the evidence on SportsCenter.  Edwin Jackson may begin to get a little cranky if he continues to receive this paltry level of run support throughout the season.

Carlos Guillen is now battling a sore shoulder?  And why would he not be on the DL at this point?  You can't successfully battle two injuries.  I absolutely love Carlos Guillen, but he can't be kept in the lineup in his battered condition.  It's really hard to say this, but he looks brutal in left right now, too.  He's not getting to those deep balls even though he's playing deep.  Ugh.

In divisional news, Zack Greinke continues to dominate to the tune of a 0.40 ERA.    Last night he threw a complete game, shutting out the White Sox, while striking out ten.  I can only hope that on our next series against the Royals, we somehow miss his turn in the rotation.  In a way, it's exciting to see someone dealing like that, but when he's in our division, it has the tendency to take some of the fun out of it.

Monday Night Madness

I will “gracing” the CoPa with my presence at tonight’s game—ha ha.  I hope I don’t bring a hex with me as I just found out my son’s baseball team is the Twins.  I must admit that I do like the TC logo on the caps.  It’s 80s night at the ballpark tonight (groan).  I’m not too into the hokey themed nights like Country Night, etc.  Absurdly, I go to the park to watch the ballgame being played.  It’s also a promotional night in which the first 10,000 fans receive a Jack Morris replica jersey/t-shirt.  Is jersey/t-shirt an oxymoron?  I never make it the park that early, so I’m sure I won’t get one anyway.  The weather is expected to be picture-perfect, so play ball!

I’m looking forward to my first live look at Mr. Jackson.  While scrutinized at the time (by myself and a lot of others), the trade is turning out well for us so far.  I still believe Matt Joyce will be a quality player, and I’m interested in his career/progress.  But, it turns out we really needed another starter, what our left-handers’ pitching skills going AWOL and Jeremy Bonderman’s extended rehab.

Last year, I somehow made it into two video highlights due to the Puma hitting opposite field home runs right into my section.  My son said he hopes I get into another one this year.  I tried to explain how unlikely that is, but hey Miggy, if you wanna jack one into my row, have at it!  However, everyone made a lot of fun of me in those clips, so maybe I should lay low.  I’m starting to feel like Kathy Lee Gifford with all these mentions of my son, so I’m gonna try to limit that.  No sense in alienating and annoying your readers.

See you at the park tonight!

Pilfering from the Twins

As you know by now, the Tigers have hired Rick Knapp as their new pitching coach, and are likely to hire a bullpen coach from within the organization.   Knapp has been the Twins minor league pitching coordinator for the past 12 years.  Many others have covered this news already, so I'll just say this:

I like this move from the standpoint that I like what Minnesota does with its small budget each year.  I think it's largely due to Ron Gardenhire.  He's a terrific manager in my view.  During Twins batting practice at Comerica one game last year, I saw him in shallow outfield shagging fly balls.  I'd be beside myself if I had to lose my top talent every year or so and start over.  (Side note, I'd also be freaking mad if I had to play in a dump like the Metrodome.  Every time I see the stupid carpet and the baggie, I feel the chunks rising.)  So, if Rick Knapp is any part of what's been going on with the Twins, I'm happy as a clam.  And bonus, we take away from one of our top divisional rivals.