State of the Tilde - May 12th, 2008

Here we are - 38 games into the season, roughly 1/4 of the way home. No, our hero is not leading a first place team, as was expected. However, his team is only 4 games out right now. Then again, said team is also only 16-22. After 0-7 begat 2-10 which begat 14-15…the Tiggers have regressed to 2-7 over their past nine after a 12-5 stretch. They swept the Yankees and then got swept by the Twins. And then dropped 3 of 4 to the Red Sox. Sunday was rained out, so the opportunity to take another series from the Yanks was denied. But, as always…there is reason for hope in the future.

Game 37 - Poetry In The Ninth

He Likes It! Hey Inge-y!

Let’s get Brandon Inge to play catcher. He’ll play anywhere.

What has changed is Inge’s attitude towards catching. He has gone past just accepting it, and now says he actually likes it.

“My heart’s definitely into it now, and that’s a big step,” Inge said Tuesday, before the Detroit Tigers’ 5-0 loss to Boston. “I’m enjoying it. I really am. And I realize it might be the best thing for my career

Pretty sure I speak for the rest of my Tilde brethren about Judas’s change of heart: Thank. The fuck. God. Although currently he’s hitless in his last 16 at bats. Probably not the best time to try and work the guy into the lineup as the catcher any time soon. Because Ivan the Stout is, I think, sixth on the DH depth chart.

Game 35 - In Which Your Author Throws Things In Both Joy and Frustration

OOOHH!! Look, a 4-0 lead!

Ok, 4-2 is still good.

5-2! Yay!

5-4, well it’s still a lead…

8-4 HUZZAH!!!

/enter Zach Miner

/drink

/drink more

8-9 now, eh?

/enter Todd Jones

/passes out from alcohol poisoning

Game 33: It’s Lineup Shakeup (And I Helped!)

The much-discussed lineup shakeup by manager Jim Leyland was carefully unveiled today underneath a pristine satin sheet. [whoosh] So … that’s weird. His Tildeness was batting DH, with n00b Matt Joyce playing in right. Gary Sheffield, dropped down to sixth, was roving in left while Jacque Jones goes on a top secret assignment mission type scheme in Toledo. Ivan the Stout batted ninth for the first time in 16 years.

Edgar Renteria played shortstop and batted eighth, but only after the umpire quashed Leyland’s idea of having that position be fielded by Ramon Santiago standing on Ryan Raburn’s shoulders.

And it worked for all of three runs. The 6-3 loss puts the Tiger Uppercuts on a four-game losing streak. Tilde? He went 0-for-4 with a walk and a double play grounder. The big shot came from River Thames in a two-out bases loaded pinch-hit situation, because Joyce was due to bat, and this was no time for a kid in his debut to do what men do.

Game 32: Recycling is Bad, M’kay?

Lloyd McClendon smiled weakly and patted Mr. Leyland on the back. “Giving mini-bats to the whole team for today’s game was a stroke of genius, Mr. Leyland, sir. Six runs is a lot of scoring, especially when using little bats.”

Mr. Leyland, struck between the shoulder blades, coughed phlegm about for a good minute. Then he took another drag. “Be damned if I know where the pitching went again, though.”

Kenny Rogers shuffled by the visiting manager’s office and poked his head in as Lloyd McClendon left. “Sorry about that seventh inning, Mr. Leyland, sir. I don’t know what happened there.”

Mr. Leyland coughed again.

Game 31: We See What You Did There, Young Lady

“Man, those boys can’t hit the broad side of a barn tonight. What on Earth is goin’ on out there? Grumble grumble kerfuffle fudge.”

Lloyd McClendon shrugged. “Dunno, Mr. Leyland, sir. I thought we fixed that in Yankee Stadium. We get to Minneapolis and all the life’s taken out of the offense. You don’t think our boys are allergic to all that plastic, do you?”

Mr. Leyland shook his head and popped another Nicotine gum into a nearly-full cheek. “Damned if I know.”

Son of Grander nearly skipped by both men on his way to the on-deck circle, stopping only long enough to say, “Thanks again, Mr. Leyland, sir!” and waving his bat at the manager.

“Wait, what? Wa… get back here, you consarnded lilly-livered liposuction… what do you mean by that?”

Son of Grander bounced back to Mr. Leyland. “Thanks for the bats, Mr. Leyland, sir! They were a lovely gift!”

“I… what?”

Game 30: In Which Excrement Occurs Occasionally

Sometimes your young starter is left in a little too long despite a low pitch count. Sometimes your bullpen makes you pine for another Sussman-led campfire song about Jason Grilli. Sometimes Captain Eephus throws well against all odds. Whaddya gonna do?

You send Justin Verlander back out there Saturday and ask him to stop sucking for a few innings. That’s what you do.

(Note: If this had been Game 14, we would have recommended 50 ways to enjoy a shame spiral. Maybe a few drinking games meant to encourage nascent alcoholism. Times change.)

And now a few news and notes about the game. Breakin’ it down, Gammons-style:

Big Tilde Notes: Another home run for the Wavy One produced the only run of the evening for Los Tigres.

Ivan the Stout Notes: Man’s still got a cannon. He came up throwing on Carlos Go-Go-Gomez and nailed him in his ear flap. Carlos left the game, resolute that he would never anger Ivan the Stout again. Ivan the Stout will &#*$ you in your earhole if you run on him.

Captain Eephus News: From the AP recap - “The big Cuban settled down after that, using every trick in his 33-year-old bag to keep the Tigers off balance.” We assume he was given this bag of tricks for high school graduation.

Game 29: In Which We Check in on Our Tilde Grande

First, point of order: The Tigers swept the Yankees (who look like the Yankees of early Steinbrenner the Elder more than the ones we remembered to fear again - only Steinbrenner family hubris at generational intervals has kept Major League Baseball from radically changing its revenue sharing structure). Very good. They now stand at 14-15 and all of the panic subsides for a few days. Deep breath and exhale.

Now that May has arrived, it’s time to begin checking seriously on The Big Tilde himself. As this piffle of a pageglot was created in his honor and to keep his MVP profile high, let’s check in on our hero, shall we?

Last night, the Big Tilde had three hits, scored twice, and plated two others. He raised his slashes to an MVP-worthy start of .315/.395/.528. Considering he sloped down to .234/.265/.340 on April 13th, it’s a helluva comeback by the Wavy One. We never doubted him, but we missed him

This weekend: A trip to Minneapolis in late spring, which never sucks. We send our best to the Twins fans we know and hope they can forgive us on Sunday night after the epic beatdown that cometh.

Game 28 - Plenty of ‘K’s Left in the Scrabble Box

Didn’t see the game. My apologies. I had some sleepin’ to do. So… good job, The Second Base Tenor. Dos homers son mas grande. (I think.)

However, I’m here to discuss a little matter with Jeremy Bonderman, who heartily ate 7.2 innings and 100 pitches in the win. Two earned runs, five hits, only two walks. Nice work. Uhm… except…

One strikeout. One K. Ún K. Special K. One-third of Strom Thurmond’s youth. K.

That’s a damned lot of balls in play. Look behind you sometime, would you? Outside of that handsome devil in center and perhaps that home run hitter to the right of second base, do you see anyone back there you want to depend on every fifth game? Really?

So… good job, son. But, y’know, maybe strike some people out next time? You’re waaaay off your pace for K/9 this year and it’s making us just a little nervous. (Okay, a lot nervous.)

(Representation of Bonderman’s evening in coloring book form graciously provided by Sesame Workshop. Please give, won’t you?)