It has been Victor, and then: crickets (possibly Brandon Inge and Will Rhymes attempting to sing). Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ungrateful. I’m happy with Victor. I live in Red-Sox-Land, I am familiar with the hitting wonders that Victor Martinez promises to spray forth all over our ballpark. Even if he no longer has the Monster at his disposal. Even if some of his home runs will probably not be home runs in Comerica. It will be ok, because Victor Martinez is good at hitting a baseball when full of health, and that is more than SOME cats in lineups recently past could say.
So, what else? Phil Coke might have to be a starter next season, apply whatever level of confidence or terror seems most appropriate to you. Cliff Lee has left the American League, and that is good. We did not get Carl Crawford or Jayson Werth. Nothing happened in the Rule 5 draft.
Alfredo Figaro was released and has signed with the Orix Buffaloes of Japan. They’re pretty awful. The Cardinals have signed Gerald Laird, for reasons best known to the Cardinals. I’m sure Yadier Molina is really going to be watching his back now.
Magglio is not ours yet, but he’s not anyone else’s yet either. Scott Boras continues to be Scott Boras. The Tigers were vaguely rumored to be talking to the Cubs about Tom Gorzelanny, but who knows and/or cares. The Metrodome collapsed, but that too is no longer relevant to us.
A pile of nothing. There haven’t even been any touching personal interest Victor stories filled with charming quotes and anecdotes straining to relate to Detroit yet. I am so bored.