Pants on Fire

Rod and Mario, I have a bone to pick with you. Early on in Monday's game, the two of you were discussing how Toronto is being careful with young Brandon Morrow's arm, and you then went on to say that it's the same way the Tigers are careful with Justin Verlander's arm.

Luckily I didn't have a mouth full of, well, anything, because it all would have come spewing out after hearing a "star-spangled, triple decked, gold-plated lie" like that one. (And if you know where that quote is from without looking it up, I'd love to hear from you.)

I am sorry, but we all know that Verlander's arm is abused until it's about to fall off almost every game. He threw 127 pitches in six innings just last week for sobbing out loud. We should just be thanking Ty Cobb's lucky spikes that Verlander has durability as the main component in his body composition. He hasn't been on the DL in the bigs. He hasn't missed a start since his rookie season.

Let us be honest with ourselves ok? The Tigers were careful with Porcello's arm his rookie season. In his last outing (the one before yesterday's hail-delayed affair), he threw 120 pitches over seven innings. Not exactly kid gloves for Kid Rick. I don't mind a little homer in my announcers, but I want the truth, not this steaming pile of guano. I will say this, it didn't sound like they really even knew they were feeding us a line of nitrite-ridden meat by-product. Rod and Mario aren't calculating enough to cook up a lie like that and sell it like it's a tasty treat. I think they believed what they were saying! Who's been washing their brains?

I can't believe they didn't burst out into uproarious guffaws after hearing the words come out of their own mouths. "Just kidding folks, we know that our club famously abuses young arms. Just having a little fun with you there."

To be fair, Rod Allen did school me later in that game or in one of the games from the last couple days. During a Miguel Cabrera at-bat, the Puma fouled off a pitch. No big deal, routine stuff right? Not so fast, says Rod. He explained that he could tell that Miggy was looking for a specific pitch, got something totally different, and still put wood on it. He was quite impressed that his swing didn't look completely awkward and he broke the whole thing down in x-mo. Quite educational, and it's not something I would have picked up on.

Just don't let the organization put the Vulcan mind meld on you, 'k fellas? I mean, next time you might find yourselves telling us how Little Caesars pizza is the epitome of epicurean delight, coming to us straight from Tuscany.

This, That and an Abomination

This afternoon, I was watching an episode of Baseball Tonight I had recorded, and I heard a very funny quote attributed to Red Sox third baseman Kevin Youkilis. He reportedly said he's glad to be playing third base instead of first, because it's "a less social area." Make of this what you will. Here's my interpretation: "I hate making bleeping small talk with those jerks I play against," or "Now I won't get beat up by Rick Porcello any more." Kidding, but it did make me laugh.

I hadn't heard much about Jose Valverde lately, so I had to take a little looky loo at his spring numbers. In eight innings, Papa Grande has the following line:

1.13 ERA, 4 hits, 4BB, 4K, 1.00 WHIP, .154 batting average against

Good to know our closer is on track. Would be nice to see him cut down a little on the walks, but he's not getting hit around, that's for sure. /claps hands and longs for Opening Day

I'm sure you say this as often as I do, but "WHAT IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?" Specifically, what is wrong with T.J. Simers of the LA Times? What would make him launch such a mean-spirited attack on Marcus Thames of all people? Did his significant other just run away with his best friend and send him a video of them being "intimate" together? Did his beloved pet (and only friend) just die? Sadly, I don't think either is the case. Simers has a reputation for being a bit of a slimy provocateur. Craig Calcaterra of NBC's Hardball Talk says that Simers' regular MO is to "insult, bait and pester a given Dodgers or Angels player and hope against hope that they’ll spout off in anger so that he can print a juicy quote and follow it up with his 'man, what’s his problem'?" Is your writing and reporting talent so non-existent that you resort to such tactics? Thankfully, Rogo of Designate Robertson has shredded Simers on our behalf. Please read it. It will help to diffuse your righteous indignation.

In closing, I would like to shout from my rooftop that Opening Day is now only eight days away. Our home opener is only sixteen days away, and my first game is only twenty days away. Happy face.

About That Depth in the Rotation...

You may remember that Andy Oliver debuted for the Tigers last year. You may remember it because he didn't fare especially well, particularly after his first two starts, when things got a little ugly. You may now be cringing when people talk about him being called upon if someone in the rotation falters.

It's a good time to remind ourselves that Oliver was drafted in 2009. Last year was his first year as a professional. He made 14 starts in Erie before being promoted to Toledo. After only 9 starts there, wham!, he's tasting the bigs. He's 23 years old. His fastball is "firm" (to bring a Rod Allen-ism playfully/painfully to life) in the mid 90s. He sometimes lacked command of it last year. According to Baseball Reference, Oliver had a 1.28 combined WHIP in the minors last year, struck out 8.2 batters per nine innings, while walking 3.5. While sipping a cup of coffee with the Tigers over five starts, again courtesy Baseball Reference, Oliver's WHIP ballooned to 1.77. He struck out 7.4 per nine, but walked 5.3.

In an interview with Freep writer John Lowe, Dave Dombrowski admits "we kind of threw him to the wolves." Kind of? I would like to upgrade and expand that phrase to "we sacrificed this kid on a spit, shredded his flesh and pacified some menacing cannibals with it." I mean, he had only 23 starts in the rearview mirror before he is standing on the mound, surrounded by 30,000+ crowd, with the Tigers in the playoff chase (his starts were between June 25 and July), facing veteran ball-crushers like Jim Thome. It's not that I think minor leaguers can't come up and be confident and successful. But a little seasoning, a natural progression...these things work, they make sense.

I realize that when Oliver was brought up, Porcello had to be sent down to Toledo to work on his own issues. But that just points to the larger organizational problem--a lack of spot starters.

All of this has been to say that I hope Oliver gets a nice long stint with the Hens this year before any need arises for him to come up and put on the Old English D. Let's not have any throwing to wolves this year, 'K, Dave?

Sunday Stupidity

Early in the game, Mario informed us that Toronto starting pitcher Marc Rzepczynski's nickname is Scrabble because of the high score his last name would earn in that game. Rod responds that he "likes the game. It's a good family game." I would be willing to bet my devalued house that Rod has never played a game of Scrabble in his life. I found it funny, though, because Scrabble is my most favorite of all games.

In the fourth, Inge had to make an off-balance throw to first to get John McDonald. Mario says that Brandon Inge "does not play around." Oh, because most third basemen do? They kind of just lazily go after balls hit their way and lob the ball over to first? Sigh.

None other than Jose Bautista broke up Porcello's no-hitter in the fourth. I'm pretty sure he's on steroids or HGH. Sorry. Just kidding. I'm not bitter. Actually, I blame Rogo of DesigNate Robertson. He always jinxes no-hitters. Ask him about how he messed up Jujstin Verlander earlier this year, Max Scherzer's no-hitter against Tampa Bay, and Armando Galarraga's August 20th effort.

It's been fun watching the shirt of home place umpire Brian O'Nora become increasingly drenched with sweat. It started out as a small circle on his abdomen, and is now just about soaked. Gross. Go change in between innings, could ya? It's kind of distracting me. Ugh, now the entire front of O'Nora's pants are wet too. HD is not always our friend.

John McDonald hit a home run down the left field line in the bottom of the sixth inning. Rod and Mario immediately express their incredulity. Rod especially, was like "not Johnny Mac!" Mario added, "You don't expect HIM to take you deep," Poor John, his power was dissed repeatedly by our broadcasting duo.

In the top of the seventh, Miguel Cabrera stole second base. I was laughing out loud with joy. So endearing. As if everything he does isn't already. We heart you. Inge followed with a two run homer, so you know what that means. Player of the game. Poor Raburn, he has no shot, even though he has gone deep TWICE in this game.

The boo birds (bad pun intended) came out for Jesse Carlson as he surrendered four hits and three runs in the seventh. I always hate when the camera zooms in on a guy's face as he's getting booed. You can almost always see a certain look in the poor guy's eyes. It makes me feel bad.

Porcello goes seven strong, and looked just outstanding. So happy. So happy. Phil Coke comes on for the eighth. I am mystified. Coke is battling tired arm or dead arm. And WHYYYY do we keep running him out there mercilessly, as if there is just noone else? Especially in a blowout like this, there is no good reason for Coke to be pitching. I don't care if Leyland wants to get the bad taste of Friday night's walkoff loss in extras out of his mouth. He should be resting.

Rod and Mario begin talking about some upcoming off day that will occur in Chicago. Rod keeps talking about "bellying up" somewhere to people watch, or watch the MSU game. Not sure what he thinks he means by that, but it sounds completely ridiculous.

Apparently Valverde is still struggling a bit, but at least we had enough of a cushion on this one. Sigh.

Beethoven's Symphony No. 3, Second Movement

Top story tonight--Rick Porcello's strong outing? No. Brandon Inge's 1000th major league hit? Hardly. Johnny Damon's benevolent choosing of Detroit over Boston? NEGATIVE. The hit parade put on by our Bengals? Nope. Mi Magglio will undergo season ending surgery tomorrow. Warm up the pipe organ for the of darkest of dirges. Break out the mourning clothes. Forge an anti-depressant prescription for me, would you?

People have been opining that the loyal Mike Ilitch may pick up Magglio's $15 million option for next year. I believe this to be highly unlikely. I do think the Tigers may try to negotiate a more reasonable salary with Magglio, but his agent is Scott Boras, savvy? Rest assured, the market will be tested. I know for a fact that Magglio likes it here in Detroit. He's made plenty of coin, so he may be inclined in his heart to give Detroit the hometown discount to stay around and retire in a blaze of glory someday, enshrined in all proper majesty at the CoPa (and in our hearts). However, Scott Boras will do his best to ruin all that and send Magglio off to the club with the deepest pockets. Have I mentioned that my loathing of Boras knows no limits, but extends off into infinity, beyond the reaches of human comprehension?

I hope that Magglio comes to the park for fan appreciation weekend, so that fans can shower him with love and gratitude. He was a big part of bringing baseball back to Detroit. I have so many happy baseball memories involving him. When he was dueling Ichiro for the batting title in 2007, and it was coming down to the final weekend in Chicago, I hatched half a dozen schemes of driving to the Cell to see it happen in person. Things didn't work out, but I reveled in hearing the Venezuelan announcers call each of his at bats (FSN cut over to them each time Magglio came to the plate).

I have a terrible confession to make. I had my chance to thank Magglio in person last year at no other place than US Cellular Field. I was there in late September for the Sox/Tigers tilt (remember those days, when we thought we would make the playoffs?? Sorry.) Anyway, we arrived at the park before the gates even opened, and I walked down to the wall during warmups. Magglio was walking straight toward me. I arrived at the wall, and a guy was getting an autograph. He finished, and here was my shot to gush about how much I've enjoyed watching him play, how he was MY Tiger, blah, blah, blah. Well, I stood mute staring like an idiot. Then, in slow motion, I began to reach for my camera to ask for a photo. Meanwhile, he moved down the wall toward other Tigers fans, leaving me behind in a sea of regret. Huge footprints were visible on my posterior (where I had kicked myself repeatedly for being such a first class moron). Don't let something like this happen to you. I'm content to be a cautionary tale, if I can prevent this disaster from affecting others.

Anyway, I would like to thank Magglio myself here and now, even though I know he will never read it. I would like to tell him that his baseball skills have brought smiles and joyful laughter to my face innumerable times. I must express that being at the park when he hit two home runs in one inning is a memory that I swell with pride to recount (even though I missed the second home run because my son wanted to ride the ferris wheel). I have to say that seeing Magglio Ordóñez play in the Old English D has been one of the greatest of pleasures of my baseball-watching life.

I'm sorry if I've overdosed you with high fructose corn syrup, but it just can't be helped where Magglio's concerned.

No Joy in Mudville

In the first inning of this series finale, Ramon Santiago hit a one-out double down the right field line. With two outs and first base open, Miguel Cabrera strode to the plate, and Maddon pitched to him. Once again, strategy works, and Miggy strikes out swinging, stranding Santiago in scoring position. The frequency of this occurrence begins to wear me out. I don’t blame Miguel Cabrera. He can’t be 100% of our offense. It’s just that it appears that no break will ever come our way, whether it be incredible defensive plays, biased umpiring or voodoo.

It’s possible that I am a mite cranky due to our recent fall off a cliff, but if I have to see another Sam Bernstein commercial, or watch the Labatt Light Refreshment Duo even once more, I may take a fork to my own eyeballs. Not sure if that’s an overreaction, but like I said, I may be slightly irrational at the moment.

In the bottom of the second, former Tiger Carlos Peña hit a bomb to right field. Rod and Mario tell us it hit a catwalk BEYOND the right field wall. I just nod mechanically, yes that’s how things are going for us at the moment. At least I didn’t burst into tears.

Next, a pop foul drops harmlessly between Danny Worth and Ramon Santiago. Tears threaten but do not fall.

Will Rhymes leads off the third with a standup triple. It coaxes a small, no teeth showing smile. Rod says that Will looks like a track star the way he runs with his hands pumping up and down. Rod. You do go on. Hey, maybe Rhymes will hit for the cycle today. (Sarcastic laughter.) Sorry. I know that hardened cynicism is ugly. I’ll try to be sunnier.

Jhonny Peralta arrives in the Tiger dugout during the third inning. Sporting an awkward smile, he is greeted by handshakes and hugs. Must feel a bit odd to arrive mid-game. He is wearing number 27.

Ever informative, Rod lets the viewer know that the Tigers are 3 for 23 with RISP this series. Rod, need I remind you that tears are barely being held at bay here? Geez. Santiago beats out a double play to score Rhymes, and we’re tied at 1.

I absolutely adore the Rays striped socks. They really are all that. The dark blue socks are punctuated by rings of white and powder blue. Very nice. Every one of them should wear high socks at all times.

Cabrera makes a great diving stop on a grounder, but Crawford is too fast, and Porcello can’t beat him to the bag. Bases loaded. Eyes momentarily fill up. Choked back in time to see Porcello strike Longoria out for the second time. Two outs, bases still juiced. Two runs score on a liner that ricochets off Cabrera’s glove. Tough break number 5,427 for the Tigers. Sob. Hey, I held back as long as I could. You’re lucky I wasn’t boo hoo-ing two innings ago. Bases re-loaded on a walk to Matt Joyce. Forget that he saved a helpless kitten when he was here in Detroit. He hit a grand slam to squash Scherzer’s no-hitter on Monday. He’s on my list.

Boesch’s first hit of the series comes on a broken-bat infield single to short. We will take that, along with any other help we can get. Could the thunder rumbling outside the Trop strike any of the Rays occupants inside? Just asking. Raburn swings under an elevated fastball to run the count full. I can never say this enough about the high hard ones, “can’t him ‘em, can’t lay off ‘em.” It holds true most of the time.

The stupid carpet at the Trop is said to be wearing on free-agent-to-be Carl Crawford. He has a sore back every night from standing on the artificial surface. Can anyone steal him from the Yankees? I would appreciate that.

Ha. Laird comes up with runners on first and second with one out. Would you take the over or the under if I said the odds on him hitting into a double play were set at 85%? I’m not going to apologize for being jaded any more. It’s just what this season has done to me. Deal with it. I have to. Well he flies out to right, so at least it wasn’t the GIDP. It’s up to little Rhymes now, who sort of resembles a flea. Joyce runs down a fly ball, which had threatened to shoot the gap in right. Side retired. Bernstein commercial follows. I change the channel.

Miggy strikes out looking to start the sixth. Price has struck him out three times today for sobbing out loud! I almost just said “what more could happen to us?” but that would have brought on a hailstorm of destruction, so I refrained. Boesch strikes out. Quickly. I mean, he was hardly at the plate for three seconds. Two outs. None on. Raburn at the plate. He singles to bring Laird to the dish. Laird ground out weakly to second. Ahem. Another Bernstein commercial.

Porcello has now retired 9 straight batters and there are two outs in the bottom of the sixth for Willy Aybar. Porcello strikes him out for another 1-2-3 inning. There’s a little bright spot.

Price balks Worth over to second in the seventh with one out for Austin Jackson. A RISP? Oh, sadly, we can predict what will happen next. Well, we did score one run, but then Maddon walks Cabrera AGAIN to load up the bases when runners were on first and second, and Boesch grounds out weakly. I…just…

Porcello then dispatches the Rays in order to help me retain the vestiges of sanity. Thanks. Rod and Mario marvel about that new-fangled gadget the iPod touch. Guys. Please.

In the top of the eighth, we are carved up like so much roast beef. Porcello comes back out and gives up a single, then balks the runner to second. Are you serious? The balk looked suspect to me. Umpires are in a conspiracy against the Tigers. I am now convinced. Groundball advances runner to third. Leyland walks Longoria intentionally. Brings in Coke to pitch to Peña. AGAIN a groundball glances off Cabrera’s glove to score a run. Some evil puppeteer is orchestrating this game with the deliberate intention of driving Tigers fans to Bedlam. There IS NO OTHER explanation for the repetition of such horrors.

Down 4-2 and here come our last at bats. Danny Worth flies out to right to lead us off. Woo hoo! Austin Jackson does have an RBI single today, soooo let’s see what he can do with nobody on and one out. He chases two high hard ones to strike out. Here we go kids! Ramon Santiago remains our last hope of avoiding a four game sweep at the Trop. He grounds weakly right back to the mound to end this thing. Excuse me while I go lose my lunch and my mind.

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???

Game 14 Stream of Consciousness

Uh oh. Ryan Fields is in the booth with Rod today. His spiky hair is dangerous and could be the cause of scratched corneas. Consider yourself warned, Rod. Check that, Mario must've just been late getting to the park or performing some unknown duties, because Fields was only up there for the pregame. Eyeballs are safe.

For some inexplicable reason, I dislike Scott Kazmir. It may be reprehensible to hate on someone without cause, but I can't help my prejudices. I hope the Tigers can continue the barrage the Yankees began on Kazmir in his other start this season. Unfortunately, our numbers against Kazmir are abysmal. Well, his ERA against us isn't good, but all the people who hit him well must be gone, because Cabrera tops our current lineup at .273 against Kazmir. Um, not exactly confidence-inspiring, but let's hope we can get some RISP home tonight shall we?

Holy chalk lines, it's been 15 years since the Angels have had a rainout at home. That is incredible. I've been soaked at the park on many a night. So much, in fact, that I pack my rain jacket for every game, regardless of the forecast. That's because at one game, I had checked the weather carefully and it said 0% chance of rain. I left the rain jacket at home, and a storm cloud parked itself over the stadium and didn't let up all night.

I finally saw a shot of Damon's mohawk during the pregame, after reading all the stories about it--none of which featured photos. Damon has decided the long hair look's time has passed for him, but he wants to show us he's no longer a Yankee clone. Avila purportedly gave him the cut, and it looks pretty professionally done, actually. My son sports a faux-hawk, so I don't mind them. I'm just not a fan of a true hawk, with the shaved head. I know, you could care less about my opinion. Feel free to click over to Rob Neyer's blog at any time. Mario says Damon will walk into the clubhouse with a new harido every day, and "his teammates love it." Yes, Mario, I'm sure everyone's on pins and needles every day to see how he looks when he walks in.

Kazmir said he didn't have his slider last outing, and he's thrown all fastballs here in the first, so here's hoping that helps our cause. Kazmir strikes out mi Magglio in the first. See, I told you I don't like him. I knew I was right in this thinking.

The Tigers are 7-52 with RISP right now. Viewing that stat made me feel like someone just punched me in the stomach without warning. Please, Carlos, don't make it 7-53. Curses, it's now 7-53.

Pretty Little Ricky looks very, very young tonight. I think it's the fresh haircut.

Bobby Abreu is a very good baserunner. It always amazes me, because he totally looks like he'd be slow. Defying appearances, I like that.

MLB wrote that many clubs are reporting record low attendance so far this season. This makes me sad, regardless of the cause. I don't want too see baseball get marginalized. It already seems like the only thing anyone ever talks about in this country is football. Stop it!

I do not kid when I tell you I took a nap this afternoon in order to stay up for today's contest. Pathetic? Perhaps, but at least I know myself, and prepare accordingly.

Oh dear, our stranding RISP streak continues at a most painful pace. I begin to fear extreme measures may be necessary here. I am conjuring up a traditional RISP dance as I type. Seriously? Raburn scorches a stand up triple and we fail to bring him around? No. I cannot accept this. /dances awkwardly around the room in attempt to appease the stingy RISP gods. Do not expect video of that.

Apparently my dance has angered some unknown baseball gods, because the Angels have ripped off four straight hits, and now lead 3-0. I am penitent. Shake it off Rick.

I have come up with a new strategy to break the Tigers unfortunate run of stranding RISP. I will get a tattoo of the Old English D. I don't even consider this a sacrifice. I am more than happy to take one for the team. You could expect a photo of my ink to appear on this site at some point.

Haha, Torii Hunter makes a rare mental error and fails to leave the batter's box on a ball hit down the third base line. He unsuccessfully tries to argue the ball was fouled off his foot. Umpire not biting. Haha.

Hard luck for Laird. He hits it hard , but it's speared by the third baseman. I hate to point this out, but he's not cutting down baserunners like he was last year, either. If he doesn't improve on both fronts, we may see calls for Mike Rabelo. Ok. That was probably mean. Sorry.

Ajax strikes out for the third time tonight. Sigh. Long sigh.

At this point in the game, I am called away for a family emergency, so I was unable to view any more of our latest defeat. Actually, I just fell asleep, but that's a pretty embarrassing admission, considering I told you I took a nap in order to stay up for the game. Sorry I suck. I will try again tonight to keep the eyelids propped open.

Games Attended 2009 Part I

Ok, so I broke out the scorecards and began to sift through them. Here's a little of the early data.

I attended 22 Tiger games, 20 at Comerica and 2 at U.S. Cellular Field.

Get ready for it, the Tigers won 18 of the games I attended in 2009! I'm way ahead of you here. I must purchase season tickets for 2010, because clearly I am a charmed woman who conjures Tiger victories out of my magic giant yellow knockoff Dolce bag that I take to every game (because each item necessary to a prepared fan can fit inside its capacious confines). Donations may be submitted to fund the aforementioned season tickets. A worthy cause, no?

Here are the starting pitchers (and the corresponding Tiger victories):

Verlander: 6 starts, 5 victories

Porcello: 3 starts, 3 victories (the kid likes cougars, what can I say?)

Jackson: 4 starts, 3 victories

Galarraga: 2 starts, 2 victories (no doubt, Armando needs me at each and every one of his starts)

Robertson: 3 starts, 2 victories

Figaro: 1 start, 1 victory

Bonine: 2 starts, 1 victory

Washburn: 1 start, 1 victory

Yes I saw the one good Washburn start, yes, believe it, revel in it. AND Inge hit the walkoff winner in the bottom of the ninth, AND my friends surprised me with tickets and a group outing, AND put a birthday greeting on the CoPa scoreboard for me, it's beyond storybook, kiddies.

Now it all began on April 14, when the first game I was slated to attend got rained out, and I found myself in a rank mood for a couple days. I mean, the season started late because of the World Baseball Classic, I didn't go to the opening series, I was supposed to see Porcello's CoPa debut that day...the gripe list goes on and on.

My first game of the year would then be the Yankees on April 27, which I happened to attend with a couple blokes you might know, Blake of the Spot Starters and Rogo from DesigNate Robertson. Ian, distinguished Editor Emeritus over at Bless You Boys, was supposed to join us, but had a better offer. I assume it was the likes of Zooey Deschanel, because what other influence could cause someone to ditch three such illustrious bloggers? It was great meeting Blake and talking some baseball, but Rogo kept interjecting details about his mancrush on Derek Jeter the whole game. It got a little nauseating after a while.

Part II coming soon to a theater near you.

Out Walking the Ledge

Sooooooooo, how do you feel this morning? (That is, if you're able to drag your tail out of bed and stagger to the computer.) Like someone worked you over like Ali's punching bag? Like you're hung over but you didn't even drink? Like your best girl (or guy) dumped you unceremoniously and without warning? All of the above?

Myself, I'm still reeling. Better recover soon, there's a day game today, folks.

I'm trying to get some perspective and quell the panic, I really am. But the way we've been playing is not helping matters at all.

Porcello did his job, I mean he didn't give up any three-run homers (cough, Jackson, Galarraga, Washburn, Fien, Bonderman, cough).

Now today we have to face Carl I-Can't-Shut-Down-Anyone-But-the-Tigers Pavano. I've already set a plan in motion to sabotage him so he can't start today. It involves luring him under the I35W Bridge, where another collapse appears imminent. Wish me luck.

R-O-L-A-I-D-S

Well, actually, I spell relief W-I-N. We got one of those today. It's a good thing, too, or the vestiges of my sanity would have waved bye-bye, and I would have stood by watching helplessly like a three-year old who accidentally let go of his helium balloon.

Nice time to slump, Tigers. It's a little disconcerting to drop five straight in September, people! Ok, ok, it's not time to panic, but I had to get that out.

I was actually a little nervous for Porcello today. I know he's pitched great, but it's always in the back of my mind that he could crack under pressure, or finally hit the wall. No need for such piddly worries today. Thank you, Pretty Little Ricky! He also reduced some stress by going six deep, eliminating the need for long relief.

The bad news is, yes, we have to play the Jays one more time. I'm going to be at the park tomorrow for the wrap-around finale, so I hope I can influence the outcome in our favor. Justin Verlander will take the hill and try for win number 17.

Yesterday's News

Well, I don't know whether any of you remember the Cleveland series last week. It seems an age ago now, what with the sweeping of the Rays, and the Holiday weekend.

However, I'm going to bring that series back to life for you for just a moment here. You may ask why, since it was the lowly Indians after all, and we've since swept a much better team. Well, it's purely selfish reasons making this train roll.

It's not that often that I take in a full series at the ballpark. I got a chance to do just that for the Cleveland set. It was kind of a fluke, but I was pretty happy nonetheless. So, I kind of want to recap the series here in the ol' blog--hence the selfish reasons. I can only hope that what comes next is worth the time you're spending here, stale subject matter and all.

Tuesday's game was fun, because Polanco and Guillen homered back-to-back in the first inning, and we went on to score two more runs in that frame. Also, Aubrey Huff broke out that game, with a single double, two walks, and three RBIs. The fifth inning was mighty troubling, as the wheels fell off for Jackson. He did manage to get out the inning, but that left four frames to be covered by the pen, which they did quite admirably, other than that homer Miner gave up to Andy Marte (who has a career total of 14 home runs in 614 at bats). Just a question--why do the Tigers LOVE to give up the longball to the unlikeliest of players?

Wednesday's game? Well, I was thrilled to see Porcello go seven strong with only two earned runs and ZERO walks. It was also very odd to see Jhonny Peralta make three errors in a slop-fest on the part of the Tribe. He did make a couple decent plays, too and has a grand total of four errors on the season. So, I'm sure he thought that someone was holding a voodoo doll and was working the pins to perfection every time the ball was hit to the hot corner. Shin-Soo Choo had DHed on Tuesday, but played right on Wednesday, and it was cool, because a guy sitting in my row was a fan of his--they're both from South Korea. I didn't know a ton about Choo, so I quizzed the guy for info. He said that Cleveland didn't want him to play in the WBC this year, but he did, and you may or may not remember that South Korea made it to the finals.

On Thursday, I dragged the kid down to the park to see Nate Robertson's second start of the season. It went pretty well, pretty well indeed! I missed bits of the game here and there, what with trips out for snacks, the bathrooms, an abortive attempt at the ferris wheel (line...miles long) and all, but it was such a beautiful day for a game, and we had a terrific time. Ni had a bit of trouble in the 8th there. That was a little scary. But it kind of worked out, because the game went to extras. And extras, I love extras, well at least I do when they end in a walkoff win! What a 10th. Raburn leads of with a huge double, then they get "smart" and walk Cabrera on purpose, but walk Magglio not on purpose to load 'em up with NO outs for Polanco, who had pinch hit for Avila in the 8th. Mighty Polly steps up the plate, and......hits a sac fly RBI walkoff. Hey, you may say that it was a little anti-climactic to hit a sac fly. I say no way, it's just what we needed. I love someone like Polanco who doesn't try to do too much, but works with what the pitcher gives him. Hurrah Polanco, Raburn, Cabrera and Ordoñez. Hurrah Tigers, because in case you didn't get the subtle subliminal message from the Tigers web site, the Pennant Race is ON!

Here's a little public service message for you, register now for the playoff ticket lottery drawing scheduled for September 16.

Snatched From the Claws of Loss

A comeback win is a pretty powerful intoxicant. I was feeling the effects all the way home from the game. Not so much that I couldn't drive, Mr. Officer.

Someone has mentioned before that Ichiro spends the entire game stretching, I can affirm that. I was sitting in right field, and that's his constant MO, lunges, squats---the WHOLE game. I even spied him stretching on second base in the 9th inning after he hit that double! For the record, Polanco does quite a bit of stretching himself.

Pretty Little Ricky is showing us he's not hitting the wall (at least not yet). Well, maybe he did hit a bit of a wall in the sixth there, but...Ryan Perry showed up to save the day! Striking out the side in the 7th was his way of emphasizing that he paid attention in school down in Toledo. Control problems corrected.

I was going to gloss over Seay's rough inning, but I'll say a couple words. First, he could not find the strike zone, and then Leyland had him issue two intentional passes on top of it. He threw 19 balls and 8 strikes. Rogo pointed out to me that Suzuki's double came off a pitch that was WAY inside, too, so make that 20 balls and 7 strikes.

King Felix had us pretty well stymied, but I had hope, because his pitch count looked like he wouldn't go out there for the 8th. Sure enough, Mark Lowe trotted in from the bullpen, and the Tigers' comeback began with a bang from the young Alex Avila. His head will soon eclipse Polanco's, and they'll be special ordering more extra-large caps.

The botched pickle/steal of home play was a microcosm of our season--roller-coaster thrills. The depths of despair were followed by a crest of elation.

A final note about this game. I was shocked to hear the crowd chanting ROD-ney, ROD-ney! in the ninth. Someone on sports talk radio said that they had "ROD-ney" posted on the scoreboard to induce the chant, but I honestly didn't see it. That would make sense, though, since I have not heard too many people embrace Rodney in the closer role. I'm a little surprised that he's had such a rough go with fans, since his predecessor Todd Jones gave fans a similar carnival ride feel in his outings. Ah well, hope Fernando enjoyed the cheers without the knowledge they were manufactured.

Swap Meet

While the Tigers have been busy doing nothing (and by that I mean nothing that has resulted in an actual trade) as the deadline draws near, I’ve been busy vacillating between moves I feel would be most beneficial. We’ve got numerous weak spots, from starting pitching, backup catcher, third base (with Binge’s microtorn tendon), corner outfielder, and the obvious generic “bat.” Some people have also mentioned bullpen help, but I really feel that's the least of our worries. I know Zumaya could be out the rest of the season if he needs surgery, but I'll take my chances on Ryan Perry and Casey Fien, and let the other needs take precedence.

Oh Tigers, do anything but just stand pat. I’m not expecting a splashy move, but there are several modest options that are within reason. It's also hard, because you don't want to give up too much, or zero out our already depleted farm system, but when you're in first place at the trade deadline, you don't just roll over.

I was firmly in favor of a bat after we took losses in a rash of low-scoring affairs, but now I begin to reckon that starting pitching may be the biggest concern (if only one move will be made). Pretty Little Ricky, while performing admirably for a 20 year old, is showing that he is only 20, and he may just not hold up all season (which was a realistic concern all along). Lucas French got rocked his last outing and only has five starts here in the bigs to go on. Armando Galarraga has come around rather nicely after a horrific start.

I can hope big and wish for the Tigers to go after Jarrod Washburn. Geoff Baker of the Seattle Times reports that the Yankees are pushing hard for Washburn. This incenses me to no end, so I hope we get him just to spite the Yanks. Oh, it's not enough that you got Sabathia and Burnett in the off season, is it?

I kind of hate rumors, because they are often groundless, many times come to nothing, and result in a lot of needless hand-wringing. But right now, the tradewinds are all we've got to go on, so we are blown by every breeze. Until tomorrow at 4:00 pm, do some stress relieving exercises, preferably ones that do not include binge eating (drinking, chain-smoking, etc). I've seen the error of my ways, and ran out my aggression today instead of stopping for a milkshake like I really wanted to.

In some truly noteworthy trade news, the White Sox obtained Mark Kotsay from Boston. Jim Leyland's wife will be thrilled, as he once said that she thinks Kotsay is "the hottest thing going." Now he's in our division, so she'll see a lot more of him. I don't have a link for that comment, but I heard Leyland say it myself back in the 2006 playoffs when Kotsay was playing for Oakland.

Home Runs, Hurting and Hannahan

Last night's homerlicious game was, um, interesting. You know the details by now, so I'll spare you a recap.

However, here are a few salient points from section 103.

• Magglio Ordóñez hit a grand slam. Don't waste your breath pooh-poohing that home run because it was off a 79 MPH curveball over the heart of the plate. I'm determined to enjoy it, and hope that it breeds confidence (and bat speed).

• Franklin Gutierrez slammed into the right field wall on a spectacular attempt--he almost held on to that ball--think about that for a minute after you've watched the replay. He was laying on the ground just to the right of where I was sitting, and it was a scary few minutes there. I didn't even realize that we scored two runs on the play until after Franklin was up and walking back to the dugout with assistance. I was sure they were going to have to call for a cart and stretcher, but he walked away with elbow and knee contusions. I would like to pass on my best wishes for a quick, complete recovery. It was a horrible feeling, seeing his whole body convulse with pain. I don't wish that on anyone, Tiger killers included.

• When Rick Porcello struck out a batter, the CoPa scoreboard flashed the phrase "tRICKed out." Good for a sarcastic laugh, I guess, but please, could somebody help them out here with a worthy slogan for Pretty Little Ricky's strikeouts? I and an entire legion of Tigers fans thank you.

• Jack Hannahan's first (does it seem possible that he had two in one night, when his season total is now three?) home run of the night came right to my section, and the guy in front of me put his cap up to make a play on the ball. The ball tore the hat out of his hand and carried it three rows back to a guy who came up with the ball. He did the right thing and threw it back. I made the video highlight on MLB.com. Wowee. Yet another opportunity for friends and family to mimic my every move in comic mockery.

• Final point. We came up with the win, but not until after Fernando Rodney gave us our usual dose of "I'm perfect in save situations and perfect at making you sick to your stomach while doing it" magic.

Go Tigers!

Anderson, Granderson, Schmanderson

I was seriously thinking about pretending this past weekend did not occur, and declining to post anything about it. However, it'll be good therapy for me to work through the anger (disgust, torment, embarrassment....) and come out better on the other side.

So for starters, my son heard me shrieking and hollering from the other room at Josh Anderson when he lost a fly ball in the sun and let it drop for a double (no error, are you sure official score-keeper?). He came running in and asked me why I was yelling at Curtis Granderson. I clarified that it was Josh Anderson, and he asked to see the replay. He couldn't believe Anderson failed to catch that ball (although in the interest of full disclosure, my son dropped an easy pop up to second base in his final game of the season). Anyway, I was raving about Anderson and his propensity for errors, bad baserunning judgment, and whatnot. I'm sorry, but at least guys like Thames and Ordóñez don't muff the easy fly balls. Yes, I know that a bunch of players had to fight off the sun on various plays, but I was still fuming. So, I've sort of had it with young Mr. Anderson, and The Detroit Tigers Weblog agrees.

So, by now, the pitching staff has completed its open letter to Dave Dombrowski begging that a bat be obtained before the trade deadline. I mean, Edwin Jackson was visibly upset after the game, with a clenched jaw and pursed lips as the camera zoomed in with its unshrinking "agony of defeat" angle. Holy cow, these guys are going to plead with Jim Leyland to ditch the Designated Hitter and let them pick up a bat to help themselves, since noone else will.

Joel Zumaya. Words fail to capture the desolation he and we all feel on so many levels.

Ok. So, can we move on now? Not so far on that we look past the Mariners to the four-game fest with the White Sox, however. I'll be at tomorrow's game, and it will be my first live look at our young Porcello, unless the rain decides that it's my very best friend and follows me to every game without fail, and drenches me with postponements enough that the blank score-cards begin to pile up.

Rick Decides Good Pitching Not Enough

The Rookie, in dramatic fashion, decides to add the element of offense to his repertoire, driving in TWO, count them, two runs on two separate at bats, both hits. The young phenom went seven innings tonight--deep considering they've got the kid gauntlets on for the young fella. We're continually reminded by Leyland of the promises he made to DD to protect and watch over Pretty Little Ricky, to make sure his arm is not over-worked, burnt out or otherwise damaged. All of this is good, to be sure. It can get a bit comical and over the top at times, though.

Porcello, during his moments in the dugout when not pitching or hitting, ponders the late offensive slump. He calculates, and determines that if he wants the W today, he's going to have to do more than just pitch well. It's going to take a super-human effort, one that includes hits and RBIs. This is a kid who has never had a major league at bat, people!

What a night for the young whipper-snapper. I don't care that none of this post is original. I don't care that everyone will be lavishing him with the same praise. It's deserved, it's noteworthy, it's Rick Porcello--one man show! Actually Placido Polanco went 4 for 4, Brandon Inge hit a solo shot, and Fernando Rodney looked pretty good getting the save, so there were other contributions.

But this is his night to shine, so burn bright Rick!

Four in One

Sorry to say it, but the gaudy stuff does grab the headlines.  Clete Thomas broke a 5-5 tie, and put the game out of reach this afternoon with one mighty swat.  It was the first grand slam of his career, and he sure picked a dramatic spot.  After getting swept by the Red Sox, we most definitely didn't want to lose the series to the Halos.

This game was tense throughout, we were down early, came back to lead 4-3, walked in the tying run, etc.   Pretty Little Ricky did a nice job steadying himself after giving up three in the first.  Not a great performance, but I like grit, and he sure gave us that through five. 

So, when we tied the game (nice bluff home to induce the errant throw, Raburn!) and then loaded the bases with two outs (we can send the Angels pitching staff a fruit basket for issuing four walks in that inning), I found myself wound a wee bit tight, worrying that we'd strand the bases juiced, and I would leap off the edge of sanity into some pitiful state of lunacy.

Clete Thomas decided that shred of sanity was worth saving (and for that, I thank him).   He wouldn't even come out for a curtain call, when the fans were imploring him with chants.  Aw.  His humility seems quite genuine, so it's pretty durn adorable.

Now, I'm beginning to wonder about our Skipper a little.  I guess maybe he has to do it (but I don't think he really does), but why, why I ask, does he keep putting Rodney in the game for the now fabled "non-save situations?"   It would be laughable if it weren't so maddening.  Even FSN had the hideous splits plastered all over for the viewing masses to see.  Actually, in this game, Perry, Seay, and  Zumaya had already pitched, so maybe it was better than watching Brandon Lyon trot out of the pen.  But still, it's a valid question for Skip, no?

Tale of Two Teams

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

The Tigers were atop the AL Central.  The Tigers got swept by the Red Sox.

Justin Verlander leads the American League in strikeouts.   Dontrelle Willis loses ability to throw strikes mid-game.

Rick Porcello wins AL Rookie of the Month.  Zach Miner and Nate Robertson show they are ineffective as relievers.

Ryan Perry comes in today and allows no hits, no walks.   The remainder of the Tigers pitching staff makes enemies with the strike zone, surrendering NINE walks.

Justin Verlander wins AL Pitcher of the Month.  The Tiger bats go silent.

Jeremy Bonderman is finally ready to come off the DL.  Carlos Guillen is still a long ways off.

Are you feeling the dichotomy?  I've got to be honest.  The top of the third inning today had me ready to assume the fetal position and sob/rock myself to sleep so I could escape the horrible sadness.

I hate losing to good teams, because I don't want to hear sports analysts say we can't match up with Boston or New York.

All I can say is shake it off boys, you've got the Angels on tap.

Oh Very Young

What will you leave us this time? --Cat Stevens

Well, very young Porcello will leave us with the satisfaction that he's the first rookie aged 20 or younger to win five straight games since the phenom Doc Gooden did it in 1984 (and 1985).  It's just the Sanders fudge atop vanilla ice cream to see him doing so well, developing his breaking ball and change-up, maintaining remarkable poise even after giving up the home run ball.  He can't celebrate with a beer jut yet, but this boy will be clinking glasses of high-octane Mountain Dew after tonight's little piece of history.

Once again, I understand that Rodney needed work, but will they never learn that a non-save situation for Fernando equals horror show?  I suppose the margin was wide enough to support a Rodney appearance in the non-save situation, but it makes for a grisly ninth inning.  And the funny thing is I'm a pretty big Rodney supporter.  I can't imagine how the haters feel.

First place is one nice place to be.  Here's to the Tigers still being in first place when it counts.