I’m still kind of shaking from this series. What can you say? WHAT THE HECK CAN YOU SAY? You can say that the Cubs are a dead team headed by a manager who makes the pancaked squirrel on the road on your way to work look like a baseball genius, and the only way to make Mark Prior less durable would be to dip him in liquid nitrogen so when you took him out you could shatter him with one blow of a hammer and be done with it already.
And we had Vance Wilson batting third. Vance! Freakin’! Wilson! Batting third! And he was PRODUCTIVE. This is all SO WEIRD. Vance Wilson shouldn’t be seeing the sunny side of .200, let alone sniffing wetly at the heels of .300 like he is right now.
Shelton, maybe this was what he needed to get back on form. The River Thames has been booming. Inge is streaky, but he’s been on the good side of the toilet paper when it comes to streaks of late.
Kenny Rogers got his 200th win, and hasn’t killed any members of the media or other civilian-staffed collective entities yet.
Pudge still isn’t dead.
Justin Verlander and Jeremy Bonderman are going to have a mud wrestling match in an inflatable kiddie pool to determine who will be The Best Young Tigers Starter. Don’t deny. I would totally watch that and so would you. Maybe there could be big red plastic Ks in the mud that they’d have to scramble for or something like in a Nickelodeon show. If it’s Ks they’re after Bondo would win, paws down, but I would still watch that.
Zach Miner is… what the freakin’ freak is Zach Miner and how the heck is he pitching? I mean. Effectively? 2.65 ERA? Since when does that kind of thing happen to the Tigers?
Placido Polanco is still the hardest guy in the majors (or at least the AL, I’m too lazy to check) to strike out.
Zoom continues to make elderly male baseball analysts pee themselves under their desks when they see him pitch. Fat old men saying, “Thuh fastball! Is SOFASTWOW. Looka those numbers is so biiiig! Aw ga’d Scooter explain it t’me. What? Scooter en’t real? Then gimme Tim McCarver, he awways makes sense.” I am not making this up, it actually happens.
Granderson… I can’t even pretend to be rational about Granderson. I love Curtis Granderson and you all know it and he is glorious so I will hear nothing against him. I haven’t heard one single solitary gripe about how we should have stuck by Nook in center field. I mean, I appreciate Nook Logan as much as the next Tigers fan who appreciates pathetically weak-hitting speedsters, honest. My iPod is named The iNook. But my love for Curtis Granderson surpasses even this. I only have one iPod, but if I ever get a new computer (’cause this one is rapidly becoming inadequate, memory-wise, for the amount of photography I do… I hope my parents are reading this) I might give it a name that’s got something to do with Mr. Granderson. If it fits.
In fact, I have now gotten myself into such a frenzy of Granderson love just by contemplating him that I shall post this photo for no discernible reason.
See, that just automatically made this post and site 1,024 times better. And if you click for slightly larger, why, it’s triple that. One should never really require a REASON to bask in the warm, glorious glow of grinning Curtis Granderson and that’s just what we’re about here at Roar of the Tigers… a pleasing lack of reason.
I can’t believe, somehow, that Wilfredo Ledezma is back. It’s just too insane and crazy and holy freaking cats, it’s possible, just barely possible, that we can afford to do that now. His old nickname, according to the inimitable expert also sometimes referred to as the blogger, was Metropolis. Ten kibble points to the person who can remember where that one came from.
We beat the Brewers tonight, taking that last wasted Bondo outing and learning from our mistakes. See, kittens? See what happens when you pay attention the first time you screw up and you learn for the second time around? DO YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENED THERE, BULLPEN?
We took the first one from the Brewers today. This whole thing just keeps getting more and more surreal in my mind. I don’t even know this team anymore.