Tigers On Top

I love Kenny Rogers. He defies explanation. How do you pick up pretty much exactly where you left off in the World Series after surgery and rehab? Tell us your secrets, O Wise Gambler!

After a needed day off thanks to the rain, the Boys got back to the business of winning today behind the Gambler, who turned in six efficient innings of one-run ball against those pesky Rangers. I think my favorite moment had to be when the radar gun picked up the speed of an outgoing line drive (which was caught to end the inning) at 96 mph. Kenny cracked up the whole dugout by taking credit, saying it was his pitch that went 96, even going so far as to stick out his tongue at actual flameballer Justin Verlander. Rod and Mario were in amused disbelief that a starting pitcher, in the middle of a game, would actually drop the game face and make his teammates laugh. That’s Kenny for you–he brings more to this team than his great pitching, and considering how he pitches, that says a lot.

At least some of the offense decided to show up today, especially in the form of Carlos Guillen who came through with a clutch bases-loaded hit, and a scorcher of a homer by Gary Sheffield. And it’s possible neither of them will go to the All-Star game … I agree with our broadcasters. I would put the Tigers A-lineup, with Kenny or Justin on the mound, against the National League All-Stars any day. And that would be one hell of a game. The Tigers could all be All-Stars!!! Just think about where we were four years ago, and think about now. Amazing, isn’t it?

My boy Jonesy pitched a happily uneventful ninth for his 19th save of the year, and is inching ever closer to that milestone of 300. I’m hoping (and this isn’t that selfish, because it would be very good for the Tigers) that the Tygs go on a tear throughout July, and that Jonesy gets his 300th save against the A’s in Oakland when I can be there. Well, either that or wait till late August when I’ve got tickets to my lone home Tigers game of the season against the Yankees … I would soooooo love to see him do that. I’m pretty resigned to him never making the Hall of Fame, but 300 saves would silence, at least momentarily, some of his more annoyingly vocal critics, the ones who call for his head with every blown save.

Speaking of milestones, I know this is a Tigers blog but I can’t help noting Craig Biggio’s 3000th hit (as well as the two that came after, on his FIVE-HIT night!). Thanks to the miracle of Extra Innings, I got to watch the epic Astros game and see the hit and the touching celebration that followed. As a San Francisco native watching the relationship between Bonds and the fans grow progressively more dysfunctional, it warmed my heart to see the unabashed love that Biggio has for Houston and vice versa. There are no rumors surrounding him, just a whole lot of love and respect for the way he plays the game and the way he conducts himself as a person. 

It was one of the most beautiful moments I’ve ever seen. His two sons came running out of the dugout, where they were allowed to serve as batboys while their dad was chasing 3,000; his wife and daughter rushed out of the stands onto the field to hug and kiss him; and all his teammates gathered around to embrace him and applaud him. Ex-Tiger Brad Ausmus, one of Biggio’s best friends, was one of the first to get to him.

But possibly the sweetest moment came a little later. Biggio went down into the dugout, maybe into the clubhouse, and when he emerged he had his dear teammate Jeff Bagwell by the hand. Baggy, of course, wanted the moment to be Biggio’s alone, and was being rather resistant, but Biggio pulled him all the way out to the middle of the diamond, where he raised their clasped hands as the noise of the crowd reached a new level. He said later that he wanted the fans to be able to say a proper goodbye to Baggy, like they never were able to. It was the perfect gesture–those two have shared practically everything in their careers–and shows you just the kind of man Craig Biggio is.

Just to cap the night perfectly, Biggio ended up with FIVE HITS, including the infield hit (again with the busting of the ass) that started the game-winning rally in the bottom of the eleventh. One of my absolute favorite ex-Tigers, Brian Moehler, had pitched the top of the inning and given up a home run to put Colorado ahead, 5-4. With two out, Biggio hit a sharp grounder to short, beating out the throw by running as hard as he could right out of the box. Hunter Pence (my pick for NL Rookie of the Year) followed up with one of the softest doubles imaginable, and then Berkman loaded the bases by getting plunked. Carlos Lee sent a grand slam soaring into the Crawford boxes to end the game in a victory for the Astros, who probably found new places to hold joy that they’d never thought of before. What an amazing night for them. I couldn’t be happier for Biggio.

The Tigers game got rained out today, hopefully giving the guys time to reflect on why they seem to play better on the road than at home. I shall use this opportunity to do what broadcasters often do during rain delays: Share a couple stories.

STEVE SPARKS

For those of you who may not know, Steve Sparks is a now retired, almost 42 year old knuckleball pitcher who played for the Tigers from 2000 through most of 2003. He was, is, and always will be my very favorite player. There are many Sparky stories to choose from in my stash, but I guess I gotta pick just one …

In 2003, I went on a “college” tour, which was actually a very thinly veiled tour of the baseball shrines I most wanted to visit. I always knew that I wanted to go to University of Michigan, so for the sheer convenience of it I also applied to schools in Boston and Chicago in order to see Fenway and Wrigley on this aforementioned tour. Ever so conveniently, the Tigers were at Fenway for a two-game series for the two games that Dad and I were in Boston. Funny how things work out … I wonder if we planned it that way.

By that time, I’d known Sparky for a while–nonetheless, he was surprised to see us, and gleefully listened to the tales of our tour so far. “See you in Detroit!” he said as we parted ways.

In Detroit, as you might imagine, it’s a bit more difficult to attract the attention of a Tiger, being surrounded by other Tigers fans. It was Negro League Tribute Day in Detroit, we’d had a great visit to the University of Michigan, but no Sparky. We hung around the dugout, just waiting, explaining to the security guard that yes, we really did know Sparky, when he wanted to kick us out. He gave us a look like, Surrrrre, of course you know him, but let us stay anyhow.

I began to despair when almost all the players had gone in. Then the Fox Sports Net guys began setting up chairs for an interview. “Who’re you guys interviewing?” I called to them, hoping against hope. “Steve Sparks,” they answered, sending me into a tizzy.

Within minutes, Sparky emerged from the dugout, clad in a beautifully baggy throwback Stars uniform, high socks and all. “Hey Colt!” he said, spotting me. Surrounded by hordes of small children thrusting their giveaway Stars caps at him, Sparky patiently signed away and asked for updates on the rest of our trip. I told him about seeing Wrigley Field in Chicago, going up to Ann Arbor for the tour of Michigan; we talked about his upcoming high school reunion in Tulsa, and the rumors that he might get traded to Houston (reuniting him with his old batterymate, Brad Ausmus).

Afterwards, as I walked up the stairs grinning ear to ear, the security guard stopped us.

“Man, you really did know him!” he said. “Is he your neighbor or something?”

 TODD JONES

If you’ve ever wondered about my strangely fierce loyalty to Todd ”Roller Coaster” Jones, prepare to be enlightened.

Since he got traded from the Tigers, I’d kind of followed Jonesy around, making sure I got to at least one of his games every year (usually in San Francisco) just to say hi and see how things were going. When he came back to the Tigers last year, I was elated.

The second game of the Oakland series, I was standing behind the visitors dugout when Jonesy came running in from right field, where he’d been stretching and playing catch. He was waving madly at someone, pointing at the on-field boxes. I watched curiously until it hit me–he was waving at me!

Dad and I scurried down to the boxes, where Jonesy persuaded Trey, the security guard, to let us down. There was an exchange of pleasantries, and then one of the most beautiful sentences I’ve ever heard: “Want to come on the field, meet some of the guys?” Are you kidding?!

No, actually, he was not. Jonesy opened the little gate onto the field as if this was something perfectly normal, told me to grab my camera, and slung an arm around my shoulders as we strolled down towards the Tiger bullpen. Jonesy then proceed to snap photos of me with the catcher’s gear, me and Jason Grilli, me with Marcus Thames and Curtis Granderson (who loved my orange-and-blue Converse high tops), introducing me to almost every member of the bullpen as I tried not to act like a blithering idiot.

Returning to my dad, Jonesy quickly realized he was on the phone with my mom. Grinning, he took the phone and brightly said, “Hi Mom!” Nobody could believe it. All my security guard friends were grinning almost as widely as I was; Trey was afraid I was going to pass out from sheer joy.

How can you ever do anything but love a guy who’s made you that happy? 

Normally when I see two solid weeks of home games on the schedule, it makes me happy.

After the past two days, I’m not so sure anymore.

The Tigers looked nigh unbeatable in the reported hell of the National League. Now back in the comfy environs of familiar Comerica Park, they’re finding ways to lose. Yesterday they lost by having Bondo turn in his first real poor outing of the year and scoring not so many runs. Though Grandy did hit his 14th triple of the year, so that was something.

Then today Little Nate returned, and looked very wonderful in his 5.1 innings. Four hits, one earned run (an inherited runner that Grilli allowed in) and general Detroit dominance. We got two runs right in the first inning, and then Grandy ensured that he’d get baseball’s version of the triple double with a home run in the third. Double figures in all three kinds of extra base hits, how delightful.

Enter our awful-again bullpen.

We are now without Rodney again, to make room for Nate. Not that Rodney was THAT much help, but still. Grilli came in and was not amazing, and then Byrdak gave up a three-run homer to Wilkerson, plus some more runs for good measure. To their credit, the Tigers hitters gamely bounced back in the eighth, touching up Otsuka for 3 runs to tie the game at 6-6.

Then Jonesy came in and hit a down loop in the Roller Coaster. Three runs, and despite a little whimpery threat against Gagne in the ninth, it was over. 9-6 loss, while Cleveland predictably refused to fall to the A’s and scored five runs in the ninth for an 8-5 win. Just makes you want to hurl, doesn’t it? We’re back in a tie for first, and I hate the bullpen more than ever. Except Jonesy of course, who no matter how many runs he gives up I can never dislike. I can cringe excessively when he comes in though, thinking of the imminent damage he’s about to do to the score and his own ERA.

MIKEY WATCH: Last night my boy Mikey Maroth made his debut for the Cardinals. And don’t we all wish he’d pitched like that the whole season with the Tigers! Despite looking incredibly odd in Cardinals red (especially those red spikes), Mikey pitched 7.1 stellar innings, giving up just one run on two hits. He also picked off two runners! Silly National Leaguers, you don’t know to stay close to first when Mikey’s on the mound. He’ll get you every time with that excellent move. The Cards lost eventually in extra innings, but as Mikey did not figure in the decision, having left the game with a 1-1 tie, I’ll chalk it up as a victory. Maroth 1, Everybody Else 0.

Anyone remember how Leyland was pissed at the scheduling folks for giving the Tygs a nine-game roadtrip through the NL? Judging by the 8-1 record, I’d have to say the National League rather agreed with the Tigers. Even the ESPN people are taking notice, which hardly ever happens given their massive obsession with the Yankees, regardless of record. The intro on Sunday Night Baseball was so one-sided that even Fox Sports Detroit might have gone, “Hmmm, maybe we should put a little more about the Braves in there.” ESPN failed to mention the Tigers’ semi-worthy opponents until the very end–after piles of delightful Tiger-worship, Jon Miller noted that, oh yes, tonight the Tigers will feast upon the Braves. Mmmm, yummy. 

Andrew Miller did a fine job, pitching six shutout innings against the Braves. The Tigers were shut out as well for the first five innings, but they were just biding their time, waiting for just the right moment. Gotta make sure there’s at least a little suspense. With the Braves, the scoreless streak was just a miserable continuation of their recent past. They only scored one run on the Tygs, isn’t that sad? For them, I mean.

Once the shutout had gone on long enough to be extra interesting, the Tygs efficiently smacked singles and doubles enough for four runs in the sixth–plenty for Miller and his replacement, the erstwhile starter Durbin, though they added one more. Durbin pitched three scoreless innings for the save, and if I do say so myself, his stuff was FILTHY. My dad and I, happily overdosing on baseball after watching the Yankees get their asses kicked in an afternoon game in San Francisco, kept going, “Ooooohhhhh,” as another batter’s knees buckled.

Conveniently, the Indians lost again to the Nationals, so our lead in the division is up to a whopping two games. Well, it seems whopping when you’ve been behind by two or three for the past month, anyway. I take this is as solid proof that we’re better than Cleveland–we swept the Natties, and they lost the series to DC. Ha, I say triumphantly.

I’m definitely interested to see how this new rotation will work out (at least when I’m not feeling incredibly depressed about Mikey). And, just a random thought, I think Miller would be much better looking if he’d just shave and cut his hair. Very slowly I’m starting to trust him … It takes a rather long time for pitchers to gain my trust; however, once they’ve got it, it usually takes a while for me to completely lose faith in them (see Todd Jones and the dearly departed Matt Anderson, who I still pine for occasionally). Durbin got shafted, in my opinion, but he seems to be dealing with it quite well, and if he pitches like that all the time in relief, then our bullpen will be much improved. Here’s crossing my fingers that Kenny and Miller keep up their unhittableness! And while we’re at it: Please come back soon, Zoom Zoom, we miss you terribly. 

For the first time in what seems like a while, the Tigers didn’t erupt for a boatload of runs. In fact, they managed just two runs off Atlanta’s Kyle Davies, but for Justin Verlander, it was enough. He’s been phenomenal for long enough that seeing a W by his name is no longer a surprise, but ever since the no-hitter he’s been taking it to a whole new level. Is it too early to start stumping for the Cy Young?

Let’s look at today. Basically no margin for error, what with leads of 1-0 and 2-1 (and, very briefly, 2-0, before Chipper Jones ended the Braves’ 31-inning scoreless streak with a homer). How does he respond to the pressure? Seven innings, four hits, the one run, two walks and eleven strikeouts. These are the kinds of games the Tigers need to be winning, these tight, nailbiting contests where pitching is key. We know the offense is there–but pitching is what wins championships. And damn, can Verlander pitch. (Now, if only Fox would have let me watch him!) It’s so hard to remember just how young he is. He is skilled and poised far beyond his years.

The offense took today as a semi-vacation, making just enough of an appearance to secure the win. Guillen spanked a homer, and Casey continued boosting his average with a 2 for 4 day (.281). Maggs was right back in there after getting hit on the hand yesterday, and was 1 for 4 (.381). I hope they all enjoyed their day of relaxation, because it would be really nice if they’d show up bigtime tomorrow night behind Andrew Miller on national TV. (The kind of national TV that even us lowly Californians can watch!)

One lefty left, and another returned.

Kenny Rogers and Todd Jones kind of remind me of two overly polite ladies visiting each other. Oh Kenny, Jonesy said, don’t feel like you have to pitch six shutout innings. Really, it’s not necessary, dear.

Pish, Kenny replied. Don’t worry, it’s nothing, nothing at alllllll.

Pitted against fellow crafty forty-year-old John Smoltz, Kenny picked up right where he left off. For five innings, the two wily veterans posted dueling goose eggs, baffling young ‘uns and oldsters alike. But in the sixth came that explosion of a crooked number we’ve lately come to expect from the juggernaut Tigers offense.

Kenny himself led off, though he didn’t exactly begin the rally in the sense that Bondo and dearly departed Mikey did. Rather than a squibbing single or a booming double, Kenny quietly struck out and headed back to the bench to watch the fireworks in comfort. And his mates pecked Smoltzie to death.

Granderson: Single. Polanco: Single. Sheff: Second out. Cue the clutchness. As my friends Ben and Jay always say, “Unleash the AWESOME!” Maggs: RBI single. Guillen: Two-run double that handily died just enough under the padding of the outfield wall that the outfielder had to go get it rather than letting it bounce to him. Pudge: RBI double. Casey: Intentional walk. Brandon, thus disrespected, just had to make the Braves pay for such blatant disregard with a timely RBI single. Sure Casey got hung up between second and third for the final out, but not before Pudge crossed the plate. And that was all the Tigers needed.

Kenny pitched his final half inning after the outburst, and it made me remember why I grew to love him last year (after lustily booing him for abusing the camera man and stealing Bondo’s All-Star spot the previous year). Right when he needed to shut the Braves down and extinguish all sparks of hope, he did just that. Grilli, Seay and newbie De La Cruz preserved the shutout, extending the Braves’ scoreless streak to epic proportions. Also of note, Wil Ledezma made his Braves debut and struck out the side. One of those strikeouts was Bobby Seay, making the very first plate appearance of his career. How a guy plays as long as Bobby and avoids batting completely boggles my mind and warms my trivial minutiae-loving heart.

Another thing that (surprisingly) gave me warm fuzzies: The Braves announcers. They were fair almost to a fault, and delightfully amusing. At one point they were discussing where all the cotton candy sticks in Atlanta had gone. One of the announcers said he’d discovered their hoarding place–Cleveland! There were dark mutterings about Cleveland stealing all the cotton candy. This somehow led to a discussion of how you never see baby pigeons. “You know why?” asked one announcer. “Because they’re all produced in a factory … in Cleveland.” Why the fixation on Cleveland? I have no idea. Later on the older broadcaster spent a good five minutes marveling over the younger’s pen, which featured four different colors of ink. So did the camera, as Ledezma was striking out his second batter. “What just happened?” the younger one asked, suddenly remembering the game still in progress. “I have no idea,” said the other–and somehow, it was just adorably baffling, rather than annoying. I almost hope Comcast uses the Braves feed again tomorrow–can’t wait to hear what tangents they go off on!

Mike Maroth traded. 

Three words in the English language that probably hurt me more than anything else in the recent past.

And for what? We don’t even know yet. For a player to be named later. Nice thanks for the man who endured the ignominy of 2003 without excuse or complaint, who was such a huge part of the Tigers resurgence, who gracefully accepted getting left off the playoff roster when the Tigers finally made it to the postseason. Of all the 2003 Tigers who made it out of the doldrums, he’s probably dealt with the most shit and received the fewest rewards. Not that you’d ever hear him complaining. Mikey always has a smile on his face. He’s always thinking about other people, one of the most active Tigers when it comes to charity work.

And now he gets dumped from a first place team to a fluke. Did he ever dump on the Tigers when they sucked? Did he ever ask to be traded when everything was going so badly there aren’t even words for it? Was he ever anything but utterly loyal and optimistic? And this is how he’s repaid. Thanks, Mike, now get the hell out while we make another run at the playoffs–go hang out with that sorry excuse for a ballclub in St. Louis that keeps losing to the Royals.

I’ve tried to stop jumping the gun on Dombrowski trades. I was utterly heartbroken in 2002, when he traded Jeff Weaver, and look how that trade worked out. I swore after that trade I’d hate Dombrowski forever, because I loved Weaver, and a few short years later I was hailing the man as a genius, thinking, Even if it was straight-up Bondo for Dream, it would’ve been a great deal. But then I had the same knee-jerk reaction when he fired Trammell and hired Leyland, vowing I’d hate Leyland forever. That lasted about a week, and then just like everyone else I fell in love with the crusty old skipper.

Maybe it’s because Mikey is my favorite Tiger, but something about this trade feels different. Maybe I’ll look back on this and laugh, thinking how stupid I was, but for now it just hurts, like someone died. You know how when something really bad happens you’ll have these moments where you’re going along like normal, and then all of a sudden the realization will hit you full force again? That’s how it feels right now.

Mikey’s always been one of my favorites, ever since that game in 2002 where he went against Curt Schilling in Arizona. I thought he had no shot, and lo and behold, he beat the defending champs! For a couple years he played second fiddle in my rankings to Steve Sparks, my #1 favorite player of all time who can never be displaced from that spot. Perhaps I’ll get a chance to share Sparky stories at a later date, but not today. Once Sparky was gone though, Mikey moved up to #1 Tiger; and he (possibly unknowingly) upheld the longstanding tradition of class and kindness that seems to be the one common trait of all my #1 favorite Tigers over the years. Brian Hunter, Tony Clark, Brad Ausmus, Steve Sparks, Mike Maroth … and now the title falls to my beloved Jonesy.  

I’ll end with a couple of my Mikey stories … hopefully it’ll be a cheering up exercise.

2003: The Tigers came to the Bay Area twice, once to play the A’s and once to play the Giants. This was the year I did sketches of a bunch of Tigers and went around trying to get them signed. When the Tygs came in April, I still didn’t have one of Mikey yet; even so, I managed to chat with him over by the bullpen. “Come to the San Francisco series,” Mikey instructed after I explained. “If you’ve got one then, I’ll sign it.” As you would expect, I’d finished his sketch by the time the next series rolled around. I was over by the bullpen talking to Sparky when I spotted Mikey and called to him. He jogged over with that million dollar smile and said, “Told ya I’d come over, didn’t I?” He loved his sketch and hung around paging through the others, just to see who else I’d gotten.

2006: The Tigers came to Oakland, and of course I was there. Mikey was heading in after BP and I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him that day. (The day before I’d watched him in his first side-throwing session since the surgery, during which he couldn’t have stopped smiling to save his life, and asked how his arm was. He probably heard that question so many millions of times he wanted to puke, but even so he smiled at me and said it felt fine, that he’d waited so long to throw and it just felt so good.) He didn’t notice me in the throng above the dugout, so I yelled, “MIKEY!” He immediately popped back out, looking up and repeating incredulously, “Mikey?” I guess most people just leave it at Mike. Still it got me a chat, and in August when I finally got to Detroit, it served me in good stead. All the Tigers were running in, in those little soundproof bubbles where they won’t turn their heads for anyone. But one call of “MIKEY!” and his head whipped around. Catching sight of me, the Oakland kid, along the right field line, he grinned and yelled back, “Hey! What are you doing here?!” And I fairly glowed for the rest of the night.

We swept the Nats, we scored 32 runs in three days, and we are tied for first with Cleveland! What could be better?

Bondo’s record is still perfect, even though he only gave us five innings yesterday. Durbin got another win after another of his delightfully solid outings. The bats were oh-so-awake–did you SEE those moonshots Marcus Thames was launching? In almost every crucial situation, one Tiger or another would really step up and get it done (something the Nationals just couldn’t seem to do). Like Brandon Inge and Omar Infante yesterday with the score tied and the bases loaded. Base hit and base hit, game untied and permanently in the Tigers’ control.

I was a little worried going into RFK–what if the Tigers didn’t take these NL patsies seriously enough? What if they blew three golden chances for keeping pace with the Tribe? The first game seemed a semi-confirmation of these fears, with the Nats coming almost all the way back. But in game 2 and 3, the Tygs just buried the Nationals under a flurry of base hits, as they should have.

One worrisome bit in yesterday’s game was Pudge leaving with a spasming (is that a word?) hamstring. He says it’s not serious, but I won’t be pacified until I see him behind the plate again. Also, we traded Wil Ledezma to the Braves for Macay McBride, another lefty. According to the Tigers’ website, the big difference between them is that McBride has more options, allowing him to be sent down, which is not possible with Wil. McBride is also a lefty specialist. Leyland said it’s not for sure that McBride will be the one sent down to make room for Kenny when the Gambler returns on Friday, but really, why else would they have traded for him? If you weren’t planning to send him down, then what is the point of getting rid of Ledezma, who much as I hate to admit it has been more rocklike than the rest of our exceedingly suspect bullpen lately.

Hopefully this series will give the Tigers a good shot of momentum going into Atlanta to face Smoltz. They did almost everything right in Washington (just try to repress the second half of the first game). There was good pitching (mostly), good defense, and most of all, timely, clutch, and prolific hitting. We can’t rely solely on the offense to get us to and through the playoffs, but it sure doesn’t hurt to be scoring 8+ runs per game!

The first five innings of Monday’s game were pretty much perfect, wouldn’t you say? Especially the fifth itself. Mike Maroth did Jeremy Bonderman one better. Or maybe two or three better. Bondo started a rally with a seventeen-hopper back of the mound. Mikey started a six-run explosion with a booming double that went an estimated 380 feet. Yeah, MIKEY! The American League pitcher! (Goes away to cackle in still-thrilling triumph.) This was after some efficient hitting and a Carlos Guillen homer put the Boys up 3-1. Mikey seemed to be having a good night, working out of any and all jams without appearing too stressed (that changed in the sixth).

After Mikey’s double, of course, the rest of the offense couldn’t just sit there and let him show them up like that. Grandy made the most of a dropped foul ball by continuing to be patient and drawing the walk. Then Polanco, who the Washington broadcasters had been drooling over since the second they saw him, smacked a single to right and loaded the bases. Sheff came through with a two-run single, and then Maggs worked a walk to load ‘em up again! That was the end of the night for Chico, whose replacement, Abreu, promptly gave up another two-run single, this one to Guillen. Even Pudge’s GIDP drove a run in, that’s how insane the Tygs were in this inning. And Marcus Thames, undoubtedly miffed over the repeated mispronunciation of his name throughout the early innings by the Washington broadcasters (have these people NEVER heard of the river? It’s not pronounced Thaymz either), blasted a moonshot to left field as final rally punctuation. Turned out to be crucial as Mikey began to implode in the next inning, and Jonesy almost blew it in the ninth.

Mikey is not helping my cause of having somebody else sent to the bullpen when Kenny comes back (FRIDAY! Kenny’s coming back Friday!!!) by being seemingly unable to get past the fifth or sixth inning. He was gone without getting a batter out in the fifth, and the bullpen let the inherited runners. Nonetheless, a 9-5 lead in the ninth is still pretty comfortable, right? Right?

Actually, no. Jonesy came within some itsy bitsy teeny tiny measurement of blowing the game we once led 9-1. I have no idea why I still trust him, but I do. The idea of replacing him at closer makes unhappy shivers run up and down my spine. (Sure, sometimes said shivers also appear when he’s pitching, but not that much.) He gave up a leadoff double to Langerhans, and a single to ex-Tiger Rob Fick (the only National-turned-Tiger who hadn’t yet made an appearance–Nook Logan misplayed a fly ball in center and made me extra gleeful that we kept Grandy instead of him, and Dmitri … well I can’t really say anything bad about Da Meat Hook. I still like him.) The carnage continued at Cristian Guzman hit one of his trademark triples to bring the Natties within two. And with a soft line single to score him, the Nats were one away with absolutely NO outs. Oh that Jonesy, he surely is dramatic.

After giving up another single for good measure, Reliable tried to reassert himself over Rollercoaster. Yes, I think I’ve decided that pitching-wise, Jonesy is something of a split-personality. He got DY on a most stressfully achieved strikeout, then got Kearns to ground into a force out. Which still left runners on the corners with two out and Ronnie Belliard up.

I make no secret that Belliard rubs me the wrong way. He always wears his hat cockeyed, enough by itself to make me see red (I am very particular about caps). Then he’s got those stupid baggy pants that make him look like he’s wearing pajamas. And that ever present smirk that drives me absolutely insane. To see HIM win the game for the Nats against Jonesy would just be torture. He worked the count to 3-2 naturally, just to raise every Tigers fan’s stress levels to the max–then, thankfully, grounded out. And thus we had a 9-8 win and kept pace with the Indians. Cleveland, of course, romped all over Philadelphia in a stress free 10-1 win.

One of the coolest moments of last night for me was when Jonesy faced Fick. Whatever you may think about him personally, both he and Jonesy played pivotal roles in the final game at Tiger Stadium, with Ficker blasting the final homer, a grand slam, and Jonesy throwing the final pitch. Fick still wears his socks the proper way (Belliard, are you taking NOTES?!) though he seems to be trying to grow a beard of some kind. To put it kindly, it’s REALLY not working well.

For once, somebody else (coughPhilliesfanscough) has to cringe about their bullpen. After Justin Verlander and Adam Eaton matched quality starts (6+ innings, 3 earned runs or fewer), the Tygs teed off on the Philly bullpen in the seventh to score five crucial runs and turn the series into a delightful non-repeat of the Brewers series.

Did anyone else think that tomorrow’s headline might be Justin Vander Meer? I admit it, I had starry-eyed hopes of a second no-hitter (followed, predictably, by an unprecedented third four days later). Luckily Justin wasn’t too crushed when the second no-hitter died prematurely in the second inning. He didn’t have his best stuff today but he made it work, and his offense (thank the GODS) pulled him through. Mmmm, eight wins. Feels good.

So does the comeback. Statistically I’m probably wrong, but in my gut it feels like this year’s Tigers don’t have the same propensity for dramatic comebacks as last year. My stomach was kinda turning as we fell behind, thinking about how we had a chance to really take it to the Brewers after the no-hitter and ended up losing the series, and how we could have won yesterday after that game one blowout and didn’t … And of course, Cleveland had won already, how annoying.

But what a lovely seventh, and pretty good pitching by our bullpen. Rodney, of course, gave up a run, but at least it wasn’t four! And my boy Jonesy got his seventeenth save in a scoreless ninth. (While we’re on the subject of the bullpen … why the HELL hasn’t Mesa given up a run against us? TWO bloody appearances and not one meltdown! I feel cheated.)

Brandon Inge started the grand rally with a one-out double. Seriously, let’s keep that toe broken! Or keep him on whatever painkillers are making him so hit-happy, regardless of whether he’s injured. He’s got his average up to .254 now! How about that! Very intelligently, Leyland then pinch hit for Neifi Perez (I don’t care how brilliant his play was in the eighth inning of the no-hitter, he’s still a waste of a roster spot we could be using on Chris Shelton or someone else non-detrimental). Carlos Guillen, yet another of the Tigers who could reasonably share C-Mo’s Mr. Clutch moniker, singled, sending Brandon to third. The appearance of pinch-hitter Gary Sheffield sent Eaton to the showers, and thus began the feasting upon the Phillies bullpen. I could almost feel sorry for Eaton … you leave the game leading 3-1, and end up losing by what looks like a semi-blowout score of 7-4. That’s gotta hurt.

Anyways, Sheff singled to drive in Brandon and end Geary’s day. One batter, hit, RBI. Today, Geary, you are a failure. Zagurski came in to face Grandy, who was subsequently switched out for Infante. Oh the maneuvering! It’s kinda fun now but I think if I had to deal with it all the time I’d go nuts. Infante grounded out but at least he was productive, moving the runners up. Again, the reliever was in for one batter. I fail to see how this is incredibly intelligent, but hey, it’s not my ballclub. The next guy, Hernandez, got left in for comparatively LOTS of batters, and gave up, comparatively, LOTS of runs!

For some reason, Charlie Manuel felt that Zagurski was just not up to the task of intentionally walking Placido Polanco. It was entirely necessary to start off the new pitcher with four wide ones. Please don’t construe this as me liking the Phillies (not today, anyhow), but where is the logic in that?! A guy has just spent however long warming up trying to be on target, and then as soon as he gets in the game you tell him to just lob four to the catcher and put another runner on base? Why couldn’t Zagurski do it? He was coming out anyway! Most of the fans in the stands probably could have managed four balls to Polly, even the drunk ones; I’m sure Zagurski wouldn’t have been unduly taxed.

But I digress. Following said gutless pass to Polanco (I’m waving my rubber chicken from California! Be ashamed, Phillies!), the official Mr. Clutch came through, shooting a grounder toward the 5.5 hole. Abraham Nunez made a diving attempt at the ball, which tipped off his glove and skipped merrily away into shallow left center with Jimmy Rollins chasing after it. Two runs scored, putting us ahead 4-3! And then the two-run double into the corner by Maggs. Clutch, two-out hitting from the Tygs. Don’tcha love it?

There was yet more action in the eighth, in which the sacrificial lamb of the seventh gave up an insurance run on consecutive singles by Pudge, Brandon, and Guillen; Rowand left the game with a hurt leg; and there were rampant, delightful ejections. Well, for us Tigers fans anyway. ”We might have been able to come back,” lamented my Phillies-supporting buddy over whom I have bragging rights for the foreseeable future, “if the whole coaching staff hadn’t gotten ejected in the eighth inning.” It wasn’t the WHOLE coaching staff, just to clarify–it was manager Charlie Manuel and third base coach Steve Smith. Oh yes, and catcher Carlos Ruiz, who started the whole thing by saying “bad things in English.” Stupid Mesa finished off the eighth with no further trouble.

The Phils scratched a run off Rodney, but thankfully he decided that was interesting enough and stopped it there. In the ninth, my boy Mikey Maroth actually got called upon to pinch-hit–for Rodney. Begging the question, when you’re dealing with American League pitchers, is one really that much more skilled at hitting than another one? Nothing against Mikey’s hitting prowess, whatever it may be; he did make contact, grounding out. Pinch-hitting for a pitcher with a pitcher just seems kind of … superfluous.

Jonesy did not make the ninth unduly heart-stopping, giving up just a single to Bourn. Phew. I find the nickname Rollercoaster endearing but I like it when Jonesy acts more like his nickname is Old Reliable. And thus we came out of Philadelphia with the series win and one game less to make up on Cleveland. Starting tomorrow, it’s time to root as hard as possible for those Phillies, cause guess where they’re headed? The Jake. We on the other hand get to play six more games in National League parks without the DH. Hopefully the Natties act like the patsies everyone says they are for the next three days as the Tygs visit RFK in our nation’s capital.

What a delightful offensive outburst. Even without the help of the trusty seagulls, the Tygs pushed twelve across tonight with many amusing and wondrous highlights! I think we can all agree one of the best moments of the night was Jeremy Bonderman–7-0 since going his first five starts without a decision–getting his first major league hit. Well, it was actually more of a twenty-foot dying squib, but it’ll go down in the record books as a hit. Bondo was sucking wind the whole time, much to the amusement of his fellow starters, four of whom (Mikey, Durbin, Verlander and Little Nate) were standing all in a row at the top of the dugout with identical wicked grins. Immediately after the hit was official, Justin was calling for the ball. I would love to know what they wrote all over the dummy ball. (To digress for a moment, in case you didn’t know: When a player gets his first major league hit, they save the ball for him. His teammates also get a ”dummy” ball and write all sorts of crap on it to make the hitter feel bad and sometimes a bit angry, haha.) Mario and Rod gave him props for being a pretty alert and savvy baserunner. Watching him tag and come home from third on a sac fly was pretty priceless. I mean, I think everyone in the whole park knew there was no way he was going to slide, so he really had to book it.

And wouldn’t you know it, it was Bondo’s hit that started the five-run fifth inning. The Tigers had tied the game at 2-2 in the top of the second, as much through the Phillies enjoyable bungling as their own base hits. Everywhere you looked was an outfielder misplaying an out into a double, or the pitcher chucking the ball to a completely unmanned first base. And after Bondo’s hit, the boys really busted the game open. Pudge Rodriguez and Sean Casey both came through with two-out hits–Pudge’s was a three-run homer to make it 7-2, and Casey’s was a double that was just thiiiiis much away from being a homer. Mario Impemba actually predicted a Casey blast, and he and Rod spent the rest of the inning marveling at how close Mario was to being right!

It wasn’t Bondo’s best performance ever, but he had many impressive moments. Two especially spring to mind: How sweet was it to watch Bondo make Ryan Howard look foolish striking out, not just once but twice! And on a nice slider both times. Deeeelightful. So he gave up four homers. Big deal–they were all solos and we had a gigantic lead (except, obviously, for the first two. No sooner do the announcers start giving Rollins’ stats regarding leadoff homers than he hits one.)

Byrdak wasn’t great … I really want to nickname him Brilliant Byrdak but I guess that’s not going to happen anytime soon. I’ve never really had a lot of confidence in the bullpen even when it’s doing well, but this year takes my anxiety to new heights. I’m not complaining, cause we won and all, but when you’ve got a huge demoralizing lead on a strong team like the Phillies in the opening game of the series, you’ve got to KEEP demoralizing them! Letting them come back like that gives them hope, the last thing we want them to have.

Back to the offensive joy. Sean Casey, kick-starting his imaginary motorcycle each time he stepped into the box, motored his way to a four-hit night. If you didn’t know him, you might even think he wasn’t one of the slowest ballplayers in the league, with his doubles and scooting from first to third on the botched pickoff. Pudge was money tonight too, going three for five with five huge RBI.

Possibly not a concern to the rest of the world, but happy for me: I now have at least temporary bragging rights over two of my good buddies who are Phillies fans. I must say though that I’m kiiiind of afraid that this will go like the Brewers series where the Tigers look like a juggernaut in game one and then die in the next two games. We got a gift that Cleveland lost tonight–they seem to turn it on extra when we lose so they can open that gap even wider. But we can’t depend on them to lose, cause it seems like they hardly ever do. This is one division where there’s no chance in hell of backing into the championship. You’ve gotta want it, and hold onto it harder than anyone else.

I suppose it’s a bit … ungrateful … to begin a Ditch Rodney campaign. But let’s review his heinous crime today. Mike Maroth finally turns in a fine start, holding the Brew Crew to only one run in seven innings despite nine hits, and what happens? Rodney blows the whole thing on one bad pitch to Bill Hall. Ziiiiip BANG. Two run homer, Tigers lose. The seagulls were not working their mojo enough on the offense today.

Justin Verlander got interviewed in the dugout, which was a lot of fun (especially since Bondo kept chucking sunflower seeds at him). Kind of reminds me of when I’m interviewing a gymnast in the office and the other guys will make faces through the windows. He and Durbin went out to dinner the night of the no-hitter with their significant others and got a standing ovation at the restaurant! How about that? And Old Dominion sent Justin flowers, how sweet.

Well, at least for a day we’re back in second place, since Cleveland stubbornly refused to be helpful and lose. But Durbin’s going today! Perhaps some of Justin’s no-hitter magic rubbed off on him.

Okay, maybe the seagulls weren’t completely responsible for Justin Verlander’s amazing and wondrous no hitter. (A NO HITTER!!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?!) But you have to admit, since they arrived the Tigers have either been scoring oodles of runs or getting really good pitching. Yeah, it’s only three games, but the results are undeniable!

Justin’s no-hitter was the Tigers’ first since 1984 when Jack Morris did it (and the Tigers won the World Series). It was the first by a Tiger in Detroit since 1952 (when the Tigers were astoundingly awful). If you were at that game, I am so massively jealous that words cannot express it. By the end of the game it was like Game 7 of the World Series. The excitement in Dan Dickerson’s voice almost made me cry, and the way everyone mobbed Justin was so cool. Then of course Jonesy got him with a shaving cream pie. Can’t let the kid’s head get too big, right?

So much for a sophomore slump. Justin is even better than last year. Not only does he have electric stuff, he has the smarts to use it right. Sure, smarts aren’t incredibly necessary when one can blow one of the best offenses in the game away in the ninth inning with 100+ mph fastballs. But they are necessary a lot of the rest of the time. Justin is no Nuke LaLoosh.

 As always seems to happen with a no-hitter, there were several eye-popping defensive plays. Just because he’s one of my faves, I’m going to highlight Brandon Inge’s defense at third. Oh yes, and ANOTHER home run. According to Mario and Rod, the broken toe actually IS helping him hit. Because he’s landing as gently as possible on that left foot as he swings, he’s staying back longer, his head is staying stiller, and he’s getting a much better look at the ball. And better contact, I might add!

The superstitions for this game were pretty hilarious. Pudge actually told him to just go away. Omar Infante, when sociable Justin sat down to chat, got up and left. Mike Maroth, who’d been keeping Durbin company charting the game on TV inside, refused to leave and see Justin make history live for fear of disturbing the no-hitter juju. Now, after the fact, we can all laugh. But during the game, rest assured, all superstitions were taken with the utmost seriousness.

Justin had twelve strikeouts. What insanity. It’s kind of funny, at the beginning of the broadcast the two announcers were saying he’s not the type of guy to strike out twelve or thirteen, despite his stuff. Man, and against the BREWERS! No-hitting somebody like the Royals is cool and all, but no-hitting one of the best offenses in baseball, a division leader, and only letting THREE balls get out of the INFIELD?!

I wish we had another off day today just to savor this.

The seagulls were again in attendance at Sunday’s game, and once again the Tigers erupted, this time for FIFTEEN big beautiful runs! (Where were those on FRIDAY?!) I propose that the seagulls be designated sub-mascots and kept as good luck charms until the good luck wears off. Seriously, how often does any team light up such pitching royalty as Tom Glavine? And for a series win over the Mets … not only does this give me bragging rights for a while with certain people in my beloved Ann Arbor, but that’s gotta be a huge emotional boost. After the shutdown on Friday, the Tygs really took it to those Mets, ha! Sure, Andrew Miller wasn’t as spectacular as he was against St. Louis, but he didn’t need to be. Twenty-one hits … mmm, let’s savor the win on this most convenient off day.

Some quick hits: The whole misfortune thing really seems to be working for Brandon Inge and Gary Sheffield. Ever since he broke his big toe, Brandon has been hitting even better! Home run yesterday, hurrah! And Sheff, with the suspension looming at some indefinite time, continued his long-ball binge … I wonder if the Tigers could donate some of their excess runs to the Michigan baseball team … Totally confused about why we’re keeping Bazardo instead of Lopez. Neither has been incredibly brilliant, but the only thing that impresses me about Bazardo so far is his undeniably unique name … Who’d have thought at the beginning of the year that Tigers-Brewers would be such a sexy matchup? … Sheff was named co-AL Player of the Week with A-Rod. Undecided so far as to who, personality-wise, is more icky … The Gambler did quite nicely in 3.2 innings of work with Toledo, contributing to their 2-1 win. I can’t wait to have Kenny back. Maybe we can shift one of our starters to the bullpen to shore it up a bit. I can’t see Bonderman, Verlander, or Durbin getting taken out, but it might be a realistic road back to effectiveness for Little Nate Robertson … And finally, let’s just take a moment to appreciate where the Tigers are right now: a game and a half out of first. This is in spite of a load of injuries that would derail almost any team (except maybe my hometown A’s, who are way too familiar with this kind of thing). Once we get everyone healthy again, no one will be able to stop us!

8-3. Sounds like a nice, comfortable lead, right? The kind of lead where you can heave a big happy sigh and settle into a semi-stupor, contentedly watching the game cruise to its logical confusion.

But no! Not with the TIGERS! No, they must make things “interesting.” If I die prematurely from some sort of heart attack, you’ll know who to blame.

Bondo kept his win streak alive, though it was in serious jeopardy after Bazardo came in and couldn’t throw a strike to save his life. Bondo didn’t help his cause much in the seventh, either; the ESPN broadcasters, who seemed to become more and more fond of the Tigers and Detroit in general as the game progressed, noted that his pitches were “flatter than a three-day-old soda.” However, it should be noted (and celebrated, and sung to the skies in joyous voices) that Bondo made it through the first and only gave up one run! And that run shouldn’t have even come in, because it only scored due to Pudge’s bad throw to second! So how about that! 

The Tygs showed heart today, which they’ll certainly need throughout the rest of the season. I admit, I despaired as the Mets clipped the once-comfy lead down to just one tiny run. The way Jonesy’s been pitching lately,  it seemed like the Mets would probably finish up the comeback. Thankfully, the real Todd Jones returned, silencing the Mets with barely a hiccup to wrap up the 8-7 win.

The hitters were out in force today for the Tygs, even if the pitchers weren’t so much. Carlos Guillen immediately erased the Mets’ 1-0 lead with a three-run blast in the bottom of the first, and after the Mets tied the game at 3-3, the Tygs responded with five runs over the next two innings. Polanco had four hits–have I mentioned I LOVE Polly?!–and Maggs, the one time the Mets scraped together enough cojones to actually pitch to him, hit a two-run double! Mwahaha!

Also providing entertainment at today’s game was a flock of seagulls, apparently confused by the odd start time of 4:00, when a 1:00 game would normally be winding down. Unable to watch the game on TV (again, thanks ever so, FOX, for blacking out EVERYTHING), I was treated to the ESPN radio broadcasters describing the activities of the seagulls for about three innings.

“Man, those are some smart seagulls! They’re playing Sheffield to pull!”  

“Bonderman waits to pitch until a seagull has finished walking across the infield.”

“I’ve got some good seagull stories …” (Launches into story of Randy Johnson and the Exploding Seagull, as well as a couple other more obscure tales.)

“There’s only twenty now, but what if there were 300? There’s just no way you could continue play!”

Oh, how I wish I could have seen it. A couple of my buddies from Michigan did get to witness this game, so on the off-chance they’re reading, here’s a shout out to my dear friends Croad, Vetere, and Prefrosh! Croad’s the only legitimate Tigers fan among them; Vetere is a Mets fan with whom I much enjoy talking trash, and Prefrosh (get ready to boo) is a YANKEES fan. BOOOOOOO!!!!

Tomorrow promises to be a most intriguing matchup between the Phenom and the Crafty Veteran. Tomorrow is also when we get to bid farewell to Bazardo. Thank the baseball gods.

On a day when the Tigers magically nabbed Rick Porcello, decreed by ESPN’s venerable talking heads as one of the best pitchers in the draft, their offense gave the current pitching staff another day of semi-relaxation. Sure, Mike Maroth wasn’t what you might call sharp. But you don’t need to be when your team scores eleven runs with machine-like efficiency behind you.

The Tygs battered Rangers pitching to put the game away in the first four innings, scoring once in the first, twice in the second, six times in the third, and another two times in the fourth. Nervous Tigers fans, such as myself, may have felt tentacles of apprehension taking a gentle hold on their hearts when, after the Tygs handed Mikey a 1-0 lead going into the bottom of the first, he promptly allowed Texas to tie it up. But despite the protestations of the Rangers broadcasters that the numbers don’t tell the whole story of Kameron Loe, they sure seemed accurate as he gave up nine runs on nine hits in fewer than three innings.

(As a side note, the two broadcasters seemed desperate to focus on anything but the game. They pretty much ignored all events on the field for an entire inning as they talked to the Rangers’ first round pick. Then they flipped to an interview with his high school buddies in the stands. Then they answered the burning question of why several drunken men had band-aids prominently stuck to their foreheads. Coming up, Rangers fans can look forward to Ian Kinsler’s dog visiting the booth. Though the thing barely deserves to be called a dog–it’s a Bichon Frise. Why anyone but a fluff-head would own one of these glorified puffball rats is beyond me, but for a ballplayer to have one is even more embarrassing. Get a real dog! Get a nice good-sized mutt from a shelter who needs a home. Okay, my rant is now finished.)

If it seemed like practically every Tiger was on fire tonight, it’s because they were! Curtis Granderson legged out two triples in the space of three innings on his way to a 3 for 5, 3 RBI night. Brandon Inge’s broken toe continued to be a non-factor as he drove in three runs on two hits. Maggs and Casey collected three hits apiece, and Sheff blasted yet another homer.

While it was a fun night for the offense, watching the pitching was still not incredibly delightful. Thanks to the gigantic cushion of runs, Mikey’s constant jams weren’t nearly as nerve-shredding as normal. But they sure weren’t confidence-inspiring either. It’s never a good sign when your team scores eleven runs and you still can’t make it past the fifth. This did afford viewers the opportunity to see newly-returned Aquilino Lopez and just-called-up Yorman Bazardo (great name, don’t you think?). Both of them were solid, each giving up just one hit. (In Bazardo’s case though, that hit was a Teixeira homer.)

In not such happy news, despite professing to be completely healthy, Little Nate was placed on the DL this morning with a “tired arm.” From the article on tigers.com, he sounded kinda ticked off. Andrew Miller will come up to make Nate’s start on Sunday; I’m definitely looking forward to seeing what he does with the Mets, especially after the way he mowed down the Cardinals.

If the Tigers keep going like this, I’m going to be bipolar within a week. But tonight, I don’t care! Games like this one make me feel all warm and gleeful inside. My joy knew no bounds as I sat in my favorite ballpark in the world, the Oakland Coliseum, watching the number next to DET on the out of town scoreboard rise steadily like mileage on an odometer.

After the debacle that was yesterday, today was classic Tigers (well, classic if you’re starting from last year). Justin Verlander cruised through seven shutout innings with the Rangers putting up barely a puppy’s whimper in protest. Zip zip zip, you’re done! Bobby Seay and my boy Jonesy did their jobs too, each contributing a scoreless inning. I guess it’s a bit easier to confidently work a team over when your side keeps putting up runs like there’s no tomorrow.

First inning, a double by Polanco (who was 3 for 4 with 3 runs scored, bringing his average to a sparkly .336), then a two-run homer by Sheffield. He’s a lot like Barry Bonds; personally, he can rub a lot of people the wrong way, and nobody will argue that he’s a sweet classy angel like Curtis Granderson, for example. But when he’s at bat, you don’t get up for a hot dog. You don’t put on a sweatshirt. You keep your eyes on him and that menacingly waggling black bat, because he can put some major hurt on a baseball.

Third inning, another crooked number. Brandon worked a walk and scored, broken toe and all (yes, I’m going to beat that to death–that’s insanity and grit worthy of a gymnast), when Grandy spanked his tenth triple of the season to deep center. A triple just in itself is probably the most exciting play in baseball, and when it’s Grandy doing it, well, it just doesn’t get much better. It’s unadulterated pleasure to watch him run. Polanco of course promptly singled to drive him in. And there came Sheff, ready with another two-run homer. You know the Tygs are going good when the lineup seems efficient as an assembly line.

Guillen and Pudge added their own fireworks in the fifth, hitting back-to-back homers. A subtle message to Sheffield perhaps? Yeah, I know, probably not. Sweet nonetheless. The Tygs made it a nice round number with one more run in the sixth. Ten to NADA. Win No. 6 for Mr. Verlander. And as an added bonus, Cleveland and the White Sox lost! Tomorrow Mikey faces off against the rather goofy looking Loe, who boasts a decidedly unintimidating 1-5 record and a 6.37 ERA. But saying that, I’ve probably just jinxed them. Whoops.

Casey Stengel once said, “Come out and see my amazin’ Mets! They keep finding new ways to lose that I’ve never seen before!” Or something to that effect. Did you ever think that statement would be used about the 2007 Tigers?

Today, much of the blame must rest with Little Nate Robertson. No amount of Big League Chew masticating could save this game. Almost cleanshaven (a look I vastly prefer to his mountain-man look of earlier this season), Nate gave up six runs without recording an out in the first. And this came just after the Tigers had squandered a marvelous chance to bust the game open with the bases loaded and only one out. The Rangers loaded ‘em up with no one out, then capitalized bigtime. With every loss, it seems like the magical comeback cats of last season slip a little further away into misty memory.

When Jason Grilli quickly stopped the bleeding in the first though, I vividly recalled May 25, 2006. For those of you who might not remember the momentous occurrences of that day, I’ll refresh you. Mikey Maroth made his last appearance before going under the knife for bone chips in his elbow and was positively awful. The Royals jumped out to a 6-0 lead in the first and Mikey was quickly lifted. But as I watched that game, even in that first inning I just had a feeling the Tigers would find a way to win. Today, when Nate gave up the walk that loaded the bases with no out, I thought, Kiss this game goodbye. Anyway, last year, the Tigers did come back, and in grand fashion, winning the game 13-8. It was magical. So far this year, I’m still waiting for the magic to reassert itself.

The Tigers, it must be said, did not give up. They never do–Leyland would probably rip out vital inner organs with his teeth if they did. They immediately came back in the second and scored three runs … but aside from a fourth-inning Brandon Inge homer (broken toe and all!) that was all the offense we could muster. The bullpen turned in a really good performance too. Grilli provided four scoreless innings, striking out five and giving up just three hits. How about that! That’s the Jason I know and love! Miner and Brilliant Byrdak also had scoreless outings. Rodney gave up a run in his first appearance since going on the DL, but we’d have lost anyway and a semi-rusty Rodney is infinitely preferable to Jose Mesa. (Yes, I’m still on a gleeful high from getting rid of him.) Better that he gets the kinks out now rather than in a real tight game, right?

Grilli’s four innings could prove very important, because it saved the bullpen at least a little. Nonetheless, Verlander and Mikey will really need to go deep for the next two games or the pen will be stretched dangerously thin going into the tough weekend series with the Mets.  I realize it’s still pretty early in the season, but every game already seems like life and death, especially when, like tonight, Cleveland manages to win.

It’s as if the baseball gods are suddenly listening! After a lovely weekend in Davis, getting news of the Tigers from even further afar than usual, I return home and what do I find? NOT Jose Mesa!!! He’s gone, hurrah! Leap about and do a little dance of joy. Mr. Rodney is scheduled to come off the DL to replace him–never thought I’d be so happy to see him again, let me tell you.

In other wondrous news, the Tigers magically pulled out a series split with Cleveland. Seriously, how much do you love Chad Durbin right now? Sometimes I wonder if the Gambler has taken (at least in small part) possession over Chad. The offense showed up in the second game and was thwarted by another stinker of an outing by my beloved Jonesy, but they would not be denied Saturday and Sunday. Nine runs every day, ahhhh. Suddenly the computer screen was no longer something to be feared. Maggs is still on a tear, with Sheff contributing bigtime like he’s trying to put up enough runs now to carry us through the inevitable suspension. Sunday was just perfect–good pitching, good hitting. And hey, didn’t Grilli look good? Maybe that whack on the knee was just what he needed–sort of like Tampa Bay’s Jackson getting a whack in the face and turning into a strike machine.

Now we move on to Texas, the same 2 and a half games behind Cleveland that we were when we headed into the Jake. The Tribe, on the other hand, get to face the Royals. No disrespect to the Royals, who have been playing a bit better of late, but I’d much rather be playing them than the Rangers in that strange mishmash of a ballpark. All the various parts are quite beautiful but somehow the whole thing taken together is just … jumbled. Here’s hoping for a Royals resurgence and a Rangers meltdown!

Okay. I’ll admit Jose Mesa was not the sole reason for yet another loss to Cleveland last night. But he sure didn’t help! As the Indians broadcasters took a happy ramble down Memory Lane, reminiscing over the great Jacobs Field Magic teams of the mid-90’s and how when Mesa came in, the game was over, the man gave up four runs in a single inning. Now, it’s not like the game was tied, but that put the entire thing out of reach. His ERA is now 12.34, the only redeeming quality being that the numbers are sequential. There should NOT be two numbers before the decimal!

Armando Benitez, Mesa’s soul-twin, was traded yesterday from the Giants who had finally grown sick of his crap. Hopefully, news of a Mesa trade will follow shortly. Come back, Troy Percival! You can’t possibly be any worse!

Today, Mikey will attempt to avenge his most recent loss to Cleveland. Somebody just tell him that it’s the second inning so he thinks the first is already over–maybe he’ll shut them out! We sure could use a win, of any kind. Cleveland must think they can walk all over Detroit in any sport–we must teach them that this is an incorrect mindset. Yeah, I definitely have a Detroit superiority complex.

Anyhow, in case you need some cheering up, just remember what it was like at the start of June four years ago. Going into that game against the Yankees, which the Tigers predictably lost, we were 14-39. Today, we have 30 wins. Hopefully by the end of the night, that number will change to 31. Go Mikey!