On this team, there is no Al Kaline. There is no Kirk Gibson. No Jack Morris, no Trammell, no Whitaker.
Heck, this ain’t even the ultimately disappointing club that was supposed to win the 2006 World Series. No, sir. That squad is now but a bitter memory… and after a series of motor city slips and gaffes including but not limited to Jurrens for Renteria, the brutal rape of their farm system by the merciless Florida Marlins, and a handful of awful contracts best represented by Nate Robertson and Dontrelle Willis, the 2010 Detroit Tigers seem to be more of the weak, purring variety than anything else.
And now that fan favorite Curtis Granderson has been kicked out of the cage, finding fault with this Dave Dombrowski mess is a lot easier than it used to be.
You have Jim Leyland? Yes, and you also have Jim Leyland cut off from nicotine.
You have athlete extraordinaire, Brandon Inge? Yes, and you also have his strikeouts.
You have Johnny Damon? Yes, but you overpaid… and did he come with his wheelchair?
I dunno. It’s not like I hate the Tigers or anything. I mean, I have nothing personal against Detroit save hearing about them ad nauseum via my cantankerous and oft negligent colleague Mr. Allen Krause; but that doesn’t affect my judgment. I simply report the facts, interpreted in my own special way.
And that special way offers this declaration: the Tigers are in for a world of hurt in 2010.
But shhhh. Don’t tell Al. Or Johnny Damon. Or Detroiters, all three or four of them.
And whatever you do, please don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
PS. If you think I offer something like this just to p!ss off RSBS‘ other half, then you are absolutely correct… and almost as diabolically undercutting as I.
Celebrity fans are an important part of sporting life. The Knicks have Spike Lee, Jack Nicholson is a courtside fixture for the Lakers and the Los Angeles Dodgers of Los Angeles are lucky enough to have Alyssa Milano. Who shows up at your games and who roots for you tells you something about a team’s psyche. So, what am I to take from the fact that MC Hammer was not only present at last night’s Tigers game but was also supposed to throw out the first pitch?
In case you need a refresher, MC Hammer was the chocolate cookie to Vanilla Ice’s white cream in the Oreo that was the early 90’s radio-friendly rap scene. However, while Vanilla decided to try and remake his image and attempt a more hard-core sound, Hammer got busy throwing his money away on amenities like a dishwasher in his bedroom and soon found himself bankrupt and careerless.
Why does this story sound familiar? Oh, right. Because it kind of sounds like the ’08 and ’09 Tigers. $12 million on a broken down Dontrelle Willis? Why not. Similar money for Edgar Renteria? Sure thing.
Unfortunately, I guess it’s fitting that Hammer was supposed to be on hand to witness this team in all it’s glory. It’s probably even more fitting that he didn’t get to throw the first pitch because of a rain delay. But maybe we’ll get lucky. Maybe the Tigers’ pitching staff will look past the bankruptcy and personal failing and reach for something deeper, an anthem to prop up their recently inflated ERA. Three words: Can’t touch this.
Since I am not the same erudite fount of loquaciousness as my friend Mr. Lung, I’m going to keep this brief. Really, all I have is two questions.
Number one, when did the Padres become the Florida Marlins? At least the Marlins won a couple championships before their fire sales. Seriously guys, Jake Peavy and Khalil Greene? I prefer to look on the bright side with this, though. What I’m hoping is that the Padres will decide to replenish by adding some dead weight from the Tigers. No more Trevor Hoffman? How about some Kyle Farnsworth in lieue? Too bad Renteria is already heading to San Fran or you could have him, too.
The other although no less important question is, how does a search for “wemen” in any form lead back to this blog? I’ll grant you that we talk a lot about women. Erin Andrews, Alison Stokke, Hillary Clinton. All three of these names receive a lot of press in the baseball/political forum that is RSBS. But wemen? I don’t know even know what that means.
Now, I have no answer for the first question although I hope that my scenario plays out because I really can’t stand the thought of Farnsworth coming out of the Detroit bullpen with tears in his eyes all next season. The second question needs a little more thought, though, mainly because of what these “wemen” are doing.
Why do people come here looking for men being hit in the balls? Granted, Jeff and I may bust each others’ balls from time to time but hitting them is another matter all together. That’s just wrong.
But the more important piece of this keyword search enigma is the “Attractive Chinese Wemen” aspect, namely, where are they and why was I not made aware of this? If there are attractive Chinese females being hidden within the RSBS universe, I feel I should be privy to this information. So, Mr. Lung, time to come clean, eh? No more secrets. Otherwise, I might have to send some of these “wemen” after your balls.
When it comes to the Tigers, I’ve realized that the best approach is the approach taken by thousands of animal lovers and jilted lovers the world over:
“If you love something, set it free. If it comes back it’s yours forever. If not, it was never meant to be.”
Now, I love Tigers baseball. I mean, I don’t want to marry it or anything but the feelings I had watching Maggs hit that homerun against the A’s in 2006 to send the Tigers to the World Series, well, they were some pretty strong feelings. It’s like how I felt watching Cecil Fielder back in the day and how I felt a couple weeks ago when my brother and I got to watch the Tigers pile on the Orioles for six runs in the first inning. And it’s because of this love that I had to release the Tigers to their destiny this past week. It’s not for me to decide their fate but there’s nothing I can do to help either. So, I set them free.
However, it seems that some people have taken umbrage with this decision and called me out in public. To this I can only say: Mr. Lung, I denounce and reject your most recent post. Especially its typically red state divisive tactics of preying on the fear people have when it comes to immigration. I didn’t realize the Mssrs. Renteria and Cabrera spoke like some two-bit villian from an episode of Walker, Texas Ranger. But, leave it to the Karl Rove inspired politicking of a red state fan to base an argument on stereotypes and America’s misguided fear of immigrants. I know I’ve mentioned it before, but Major League Baseball would be a very sad sport these days without the new levels of talent brought to the league by our friends from the south. And even if Sheff doesn’t like it, they’re here to stay. So, lets try to keep this debate on the up-and-up and leave behind the caricatures, eh? It’s what Tupac would want us to do.
“Don’t give up, don’t ever give up.”
— Jim Valvano (1946 -1993)
Jimmy V is rolling in his grave.
On Thursday, in what became a Red State Blue State first, my once respected colleague and amicable opponent Allen Krause, officially gave up on his beloved Detroit Tigers. Though they’re only 7.5 games back of the first place White Sox, Mr. Krause could not help but revert back to his status quo of negativity, sighting that the Tigers’ outlandish payroll and futile mediocrity was just too much — an endeavor he hadn’t the heart nor the patience to endure. It caused shockwaves throughout baseball, causing these guys to say:
Congratulations, Mr. Krause, on joining the dishonorable ranks of fellow traitors Judas, Benedict Arnold and Jim Edmonds.
Honestly, this really shouldn’t be all that surprising to me; but in an odd sort of way, it is. We are US Americans. US Americans don’t give up. We never give up.
When the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, did we sulk and cry and feel sorry for ourselves?
Down three games to none in the 2004 ALCS, did the Boston Red Sox give up against the Evil Empire simply because the odds against them winning were next to none?
And what about the spirit of US Americans after 9/11, the Bush administration, a flailing economy, tarnished foreign policies and an ill-conceived war of shadow chasing? Did we all just throw our hands up in the air and ‘throw in the towel’?
When one loses hope — when he loses his identity, his affiliation for that which brings him joy — when he loses his propensity for positivism and forces his bleak outlook on the world using the headline Keep Ya Head Up, we — those who remain steadfast in our patriotic alliances to all things good — have no choice but to denounce and reject both the negativity monger and his infectious ideas.
You fooled me, Mr. Krause. You had me thinking you were with the Tigers all the way — unconditionally. Yes, you fooled me. You know, they have an old saying in Tennessee…
For future reference, Mr. Krause, if you’re gonna bail on your team, do us all a favor and please refrain from disgracing the hip-hop legend that is Tupac. He doesn’t deserve to be associated with your hapless despondency.
Because of you, he’s probably rolling around in his grave too. And by “grave” I do mean the champagne room in the back of a Las Vegas hot spot.
Oh yeah, he’ll be back.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.