photo by Samara Pearlstein
The Royals, you guys. The Royals.
You know, I got home from work and turned on the game. I saw that the Tigers were up 3-0. I felt mild happiness. I went into another room to have a quick dinner, and when I came back in, the Tigers were losing 4-3. MILD HAPPINESS: DISSIPATED. I guess that’s just how things are going right now.
I’m happy that Rhino and Miggy went yard back-to-back. I’m happy that Brandon Inge was 2-for-4 with an RBI. I’m not really too happy with anything else from this game. AND MY HAPPINESS IS THE IMPORTANT THING HERE. Stampy feet of anger, etc.
Feeling bad when the Royals, of all cats, beat the Tigers is probably being a little unfair to the Royals. After all, they aren’t the worst team in the league. They aren’t even the worst team in the division. But they have that essential Royalsness that makes it feel so much worse.
And what to do about Armando? Sign him to another one-year contract next season, or what? He’s been Mr. Inconsistent since his perfect game, basically alternating 7ish inning starts with starts where he goes 5 or fewer. In his last two starts he’s pitched 8 innings and given up 13 runs (only 12 earned though, ooo la la). But the Tigers just need warm bodies out there, and Armando is a warm body that we know.
There are some big fat cat contracts coming off the books very soon, but still… can they do much better without breaking the Ilitch bank? Maybe they should start stretching Phil Coke out now, just to see. It’s not like the games matter in and of themselves anymore… except for the bloggers who still get overly emotionally invested. SIGH.