illustrations by Samara Pearlstein
These Terrible Cartoons are old, but still applicable today. Not that this is a good thing, mind, but it is definitely a Thing, because the Tigers must have been trying to kill me then, and now they have renewed their efforts.
Jim Leyland is trying to kill me with his (non)decision-making. Doug Fister is trying to kill me with his comebacker off the wrist. Delmon Young is trying to kill me with cognitive dissonance. Papa Grande is plain old trying to kill me, just straight up murderous intent and all that. By the end of the game I felt like I had run a marathon and been hit over the head with a large mallet. I needed a pile of kittens and probably a hug. It was not passive baseball viewing; the Tigers made sure that was not going to be possible.
If they’re all going to be like this, I may not survive the week. Fair warning.
Roar of the Tigers 
It was grueling. Do you think witness protection is in Jose’s future?
The better question might be if Valverde protection is in the Tigers. He’s short a pitch and without it, he’s looking like a tasty basket of fries to hitters.
I’m stopping at Home Depot today and picking up a defibrillator in case Valverde pitches again.
As I climbed into bed at 2am, spouse asked “who won?”. I said, “Tigers”. “No Fucking Way, you must be a wreck?” Yes, that about sums it up.
You have perfectly captured how we all feel. But the bottom line is that we somehow won last night! Go Tigers!
Horribly, I fell asleep with the game on in the 10th,and therefore endured the mashing of the potato without the reward of seeing them win it. Pregnancy and post season baseball doesn’t mix well, guys.
You… And all of us…
Imagine how the other guys feel!