Ty Cobb's Diary

Reading has always been one of my biggest hobbies and anyone who has ever seen me can attest to this fact by noting that I have the body of a heavy reader. I have been dishonest in the past when I've described my physique on this website. I'm not a seven foot tall, bronzed Adonis, I wasn't the inspiration for the Statue of David and I wasn't named the handsomest lawyer since Abe Lincoln by the International Association of Swimsuit Supermodels. In fact that organization doesn't even exist and the ribbon I claimed to have won from them is really nothing but an elementary school track and field day participation ribbon. This was probably all patently obvious to anybody who saw the ribbon, which featured a cartoon girl jumping over a hurdle, but everyone was either to polite or to terrified to ever correct me. No, the truth is I actually have skin that's so pale it appears translucent, skinny arms, a sunken chest, thick glasses and an asthmatic cough that is stereotypical of a nerdy bookworms body. I may only be twenty-five but from the neck down I could be mistaken for a feeble octogenarian or that frightening Zelda from the first Pet Semetary movie, but I digress.

I wanted to keep this post short but I couldn't get through the opening paragraph without going off on some tangential nonsense. Regardless, the point of this post is that whenever I'm reading heavily I'll target certain genres and read as much as I can about them before I get bored. For example I've gone through phases where I've read nothing but Russian literature, British literature, baseball history, the Revolutionary War, the Sweet Valley High Series and numerous online slash fiction that revolves around the cast of "Roseanne". However my most recent area of focus has been on biographies of great historical figures namely, Peter the Great, Ty Cobb, Henry Ford, Andrew Jackson and most recently David McCullough's outstanding biography about John Adams. One common theme from all of these books is that the author relied heavily on the subject's personal diaries and journals when reconstructing their past. This was especially apparent in the aforementioned "John Adams" where McCullough excerpts whole passages from Adams' diary dating back to his days as a student at Harvard University. These detailed entries from a young Adams were awash in the lofty ideals and ambitions that would shape the future president's political outlook as well as shedding light on his bouts with melancholy and vanity that would continue to plague him throughout his life. However fascinating and illuminating these passages were in giving life to the subject, the more I thought about it the more I realized that only the best and most interesting diary entries made the cut and appeared in the biography. Of course this is common sense, as nobody really cares to read about Henry Ford's grocery list, but it did get me wondering what the more mundane entries in a famous persons diary might look like. Unfortunately I wasn't able to procure John Adams diaries because he lived way the hell out in Massachusetts and I'm to lazy to walk up a flight of stairs let alone travel all the way to Boston to read some dead guys diary. However I was able to come across Ty Cobb's personal journal and found exactly what I was looking for. I've posted his unedited entry below, which I believe has never been published before and was surprisingly overlooked in Al Stump's biography of the Georgia Peach. It offers a fascinating look into the day to day life of the Tigers most legendary player.

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July 22, 1911: Detroit

"Today I came closer to crapping my pants than I have at any point in my life. That's not the way I typically start one of these journal entries so let me do a little explaining. The day was already off to a bad start as we had dropped our third straight to the visiting New York Highlanders and saw our lead atop the American League diminish as we learned via the wire after our loss that the hard charging Phil(adelphia) A's had gained on us in the standings thanks to their smiting of the hapless Wash(ington) Sens. I was already feeling somewhat ill from having to frequently look at Hal Chase's disfigured pox marked face as I safely reached first four times this 'noon. After the game had finished I retired to the clubhouse and was surprised to find that our miserly, penny pinching bastard owner (Frank) Navin had actually sprung for a post-game buffet. I was immediately suspicious of this unexpected generosity bestowed on us by this owl looking Shylock, but my spirits were low and my body was famished so I partook in the spread of fruit and fish. I instantly regretted this decision and it later came to my attention that Mr. Navin had procured these provisions after he had passed a local market and saw the help disposing of the spoiled fish. Mr. Pinchfist couldn't stand the fact that the fish was going to waste, so he had his driver circle the block before he sneaked upon the trashcan, fended off a swarm of alley cats and made off with the rotten fish. Unfortunately these facts did not come to light until after I had eaten a substantial proportion of the fish. I immediately felt queasy and sat quietly in the clubhouse waiting for my insides to calm down as the rest of my team mates departed. I read the local papers and (racist comments redacted to protect the interests of this blog and it's proprietor). Finally feeling settled I gathered my things and hopped in my shiny, new Chalmers Touring Car I received for winning the batting title in 1910, despite the best efforts of that swarthy Frenchman Nap Lajoie and those sad sack St. Louis Browns. Little does anyone know that we ourselves cheated in an effort to get me that batting title, counting my stats twice from a game earlier in the season to boast my average upward. It's not like anyone will ever find out, I mean unless there is some nervous, sweaty jerk with no life perusing 75 year old box scores in some library will anybody ever know, and nobody in the future will be wasting their time looking at old stats, by that time everybody will be living on the moon and making love to beautiful moon women. Sigh...I wish I could live in the future, but I digress. Anyways I turned north on Trumbull on my way back to my nice little home over on Commonwealth, when, a little less than halfway to my apartment I felt the entire contents of my stomach drop into my ass. Not good. I spent the next two minutes focusing in a desperate attempt to turn the contents of my bowels from imminent diarrhea into a series of farts. Driving was of secondary importance at this moment in time as a much more serious and earnest matter was at hand. So the farts came slowly and they were "roll down all four windows" level of vile. I pushed this to the brink and it wasn't until the last fart seared my leg like hot steam escaping from a blast furnace that I decided to stop passing them. Luckily this had bought me enough time to get to the driveway of my residence. However, I feared that if I moved, even slightly, the floodgates would open and wouldn't cease and I would be stuck in my brand new touring car with pants full of feces. So I had to put myself in a trance, slow down everything that was happening around me and focus intently on not crapping my pants, not unlike the level of concentration required when staring down a Walter Johnson speedball or a knee buckling Chief Bender jughandle curve. After a few moments of meditation I was ready to calmly walk up to my residence, go inside and proceed to the bathroom. However, much to my infinite consternation, part way up the stairs the family mutt barked (note, make young Tyrus dig a hole in the back yard and shoot the dog he wanted in front of him as a lesson for not keeping his infernal beast quiet and angering his father. Also include this in your planned upcoming instructional guide to parenting tentatively titled "How to Raise a Son to be a Doctor but Still Make Him So Ashamed He Turns into a Suicidal Alcoholic.") and snapped my concentration and a cold sweat instantly poured over me. I sprinted for the front door with such fury that I would've assuredly beaten Don Lippincott in a foot race at that moment. I was simultaneously fumbling for my keys and disrobing on the front porch in full view of all the neighbors before finally getting inside. This led to a long turtle walk down the hallway and past the missus to the toilet where I was finally able to unleash all of my glory upon the porcelain throne. After a solid minute of such wrath I was contemplating if this was the end of my days and was embarrassed that the headline off tomorrow's Times would certainly read, "Baseball's Georgia Peach Found Dead After Crapping His Brains Out His Ass." Fortunately the terror soon stopped and after a quick cleansing I retired to my bedroom for the evening where I plotted a plan to make Wild Bill Donovan suffer what I had gone through this eve."

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Ty

Progress Report Card: Starting Pitchers

As promised I said I was going to start posting more frequently than I did in the past, which had really slowed down to about a bi-annual pace, and then it takes me a week to follow through with my first posting. Once again I blame my lack of updates on being busy with work and also for having a lousy work ethic. I know that last sentence sounds contradictory, but I wouldn't be the nervous, sweaty and insecure person I am today if I didn't possess the amazing ability to immediately contradict everything I say and do. I always thought I worked hard. I got through school relatively quick. I eschewed all sorts of parties in college and grad school to stay home alone crying and sewing sweaters for my cats....wait.....I meant to say studying for exams and reading casebooks. In retrospect I realize that I was only working hard in comparison to my pothead friends from high school who still work at an outlet mall. So even during those days in college where I slept in until 1 in the afternoon I didn't feel like I was being too lazy because I knew at least one of my friends was probably sitting in a darkened room, eating a box of Cheez-It's and watching a seventh straight hour of "Married With Children" on DVD without having gone to bed yet. However, now that I've been working with my Dad for the past six weeks I get to see first hand that my work ethic is sorely lacking. My Dad is literally a machine programmed to practice the law. I wouldn't be surprised if one day he cut open his arm and revealed a titanium skeleton underneath, or some kind of motherboard that has all the Court reports programmed into it, or if he shot orange juice out of his finger and had a microwave where his stomach should be. Hmm, well I guess those last two things aren't really relevant for being a lawbot but it would be pretty convenient nonetheless. My typical day begins with me getting to the office at 8:30 bleary-eyed and ready to go back to sleep and I'll find him already there carrying on three separate phone conversations, writing out a fax, checking an e-mail and barking at his secretary. It's madness and it makes me feel like I'm a lazy slacker for having commissioned a guy to paint a "closed for naps" sign to hang on my office door. I've tried to keep up but it's been impossorous. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if my Dad, in his free time, already operated a Tigers blog that updated news daily, provided pre and post game reports, live game blogs and had 100x's more traffic than my site all while writing under the pseudonym Ian Casselberry.


Anyways, I was going to write a midseason report on the Tigers but I realized that by the time I actually finished it the season would probably be over and no one would care about mid-season grades anymore. So instead of a comprehensive mid-season report I'm going to break it up into smaller groupings and hand out progress reports. I hated progress reports when I was in school. It just seemed like another way for the slower kids to get in trouble for having bad grades. I always felt terrible for the Louis Morrises and Billy Thorns of my grade who were perpetually grounded during the school year because they were required to bring home a report card full of failing grades every four weeks or so. Of course I only felt bad for as long as it took me to turn my straight-A progress report cards into free video game rentals at the video store or free games of bowling at the bowling alley. Of course this is because I'm a selfish jerk and it was hard to feel sympathetic for Mike Rock, who was probably chained to a leash outside his house after he got a D- in Global Studies, when I was in the middle of trying to beat Double Dragon II or impress some girl by bowling a 150, but I digress. Fortunately the Tigers are off to a rousing success to begin the season and are currently leading the AL Central so the grades I hand out are going to be pretty favorable and that means none of their parents are going to have to beat them with a sack of potatoes. Well maybe Nate Robertson.


Edwin Jackson: I don't think I ever wrote about it at the time but I was one of the people in the long line of naysayers who thought the Tigers blew it by trading away Matt Joyce for Edwin Jackson. Like a lot of Tigers fans I fell instantly for Matt Joyce. The powerful left handed stroke, the frozen rope throws from the outfield, the fearlessness in the field and on the basepaths, the handsome face, the gallant stride, the confidence in his voice, his dreamy eyes, *sigh*, and all we got in return was Edwin Jackson. Sure he won 14 games in 2008, but who cares. He was extremely lucky as his peripheral stats, namely his strikeout and walks, were middling. He didn't even profile as an inning eating mid rotation guy as his inefficiency led to high pitch counts and therfore short outings. Sure he threw hard and he looked like he should be better than he was, but he had already enticed and frustrated two organizations with potential but had disappointing results. I thought Detroit was going to be burned badly on this one and I had visions of Matt Joyce on his way to a 30 homerun season as Detroit continued its search for another lefty bat to balance the lineup. All the meanwhile E Jack would struggle to keep his ERA under 5.00 which would leave me planning to raise Bobby Veach from the dead to platoon with Ryan Raburn in RF. However this is why I'm not a scout and why I only show up at high school games posing as one to leer at the players hot teenage girlfriends. This is also why I'm not allowed within 1,500 feet from a high school. Anyways Jackson has been a revelation this year and if he had any kind of run support, like he did last season with Tampa, he would easily be in double digits for wins. It looks like he's actually putting all the talent and promise that enticed for years together in one complete package, not unlike Vanessa Hudgens. Grade: A

Rick Porcello: Thank god I was to busy to write a season preview because if I had I would be eating more crow than usual because of Rick Porcello (Note: During my previous life as a Depression Era wandering vagrant I had to get creative at times when it came time to find my next meal. I found crow to be an excellent source of nutrition and much tastier than possum and voles. This Depression Era alter ego still comes out in strange ways, so don't be surprised if I write a report on Tommy Bridges or am carving hobo code into the fence surrounding your lawn.) My friend Bill and I had a pretty heated argument over whether bringing Porcello north coming out of spring training was a good idea or not. I was firmly opposed to the idea and had reams and reams of evidence printed from the internet to support my conclusions. Unfortunately most of the stuff I printed from the internet were just nude photos of Rue McClanahan which didn't really support my argument and ended up just being a colossal waste of time and resources. Anyways the crux of my argument was that I didn't think this year's Tigers squad had what it took to contend and I thought it was a desperate move that could end up hindering Porcello's progress. I've always wondered if the Tigers rushed Jeremy Bonderman. Granted the circumstances surrounding Bonderman's arrival were much different than Porcello's as the 2003 Tigers were essentially a minor league team playing at the Major League level, but it seems like Bonderman's biggest hindrance was his inability to ever develop his changeup. This seems like something that, had he been able to follow a typical path to the big leagues, he would have developed and gained confidence in at the minor league level. Who cares if you get your brains beat in at Erie because your throwing some rudimentary changeup that some 28 year old organizational soldier hit 450 feet for a homerun? However if that happens at the big league level, you are costing the team games, a chance at the playoffs and letting major league hitters know they don't have to worry about being fooled by some sloppy offspeed offering. After reading that Porcello had been restricted in what he could throw at A ball last year I thought for sure he was heading for disaster while testing out his full arsenal at the big league level, regardless of how good he looked in spring training. So far I've been proven wrong as he's been essentially a league average pitcher while showing an impressive amount of poise and ability to get big league hitters with a heavy groundball generating sinker. I wish the K rate was higher and hopefully that's something the Tigers can see improve in the second half. But so far so good. Grade B+

Justin Verlander: JV was another guy I was pessimistic about entering the season. Mostly because I'm a terribly negative person who sits alone in a large barren mansion surrounded by dozens of cats with human names like Paul and Brenda. With all the stimulating cat conversations I have who needs any human friends? Back to JV though. I was worried that he was going to be one of those pitchers who had his best seasons early in his career and then slowly regressed to a league average pitcher, while everyone else wondered what the hell happened to the guy who regularly touched triple digits and had the stuff to once throw a no-hitter. My biggest fear was that he would continue to pitch just good enough for the fan base to put pressure on the front office to reward JV with a big contract extension before he settled into relative mediocrity or worse. I call this the Bobby Higginson/Damion Easley/Tony Clark Effect. Of course, despite feeling this way about Verlander and since I have a self-defeating personality and like to needlessly torture myself I felt obligated to draft Verlander for my fantasy team, which would allow him to frustrate me twice as much as normal. The season got off to a predictably bad start as through JV's first four starts he sported a tidy 9.00 ERA and my personal frustration level was through the roof. However despite the ridiculously high ERA there were signs that the Verlander of old was returning as his strikeout rate remained high and his velocity and movement seemed to be at 2006/07 levels instead of last years debacle. The very next start at home against the Yankees Verlander began what may be the most impressive nine game stretch by a pitcher I've ever seen. He won 7 straight decisions, regularly racked up double digit strikeout totals and with the help of Curtis Granderson's spectacular game saving homerun catch against Cleveland Verlander recorded his first shoutout since that no-hitter against the Brewers two years ago. He's cooled off slightly in the past month but has still pitched well enough to sport the best ERA of his career and lead the league in strikeouts despite his disastrous month of April. If he can keep up this performance during the second half and hopefully into October, Verlander and Jackson could make up the most formidable 1-2 punch in the A.L. Grade A:


Armando Galarraga: Just to reinforce the fact that I know absolutely nothing about baseball even though I have been watching this game my entire life, that my predictions are terrible no matter how much I trust my gut or statistical projections and that you shouldn't even be reading this blog no matter how witty and engaging my commentary may be, I am going to share with you what my preseason feeling about Armando Galarraga was. I thought he was going to be the ace of this staff and surprisingly turn into one of the best pitchers in baseball. Instead, of course, after a brilliant April he has struggled mightily and during Jeremy Bonderman's abbreviated return this season Armando was in serious jeopardy of losing his job in the rotation. The thing that seems odd when I watch Galarraga (And by the way trying to spell Galarraga's name makes me feel dyslexic. Just in this post alone I've spelled it Gallaraga, Galaraga, Galaragga and Ggaallaarraaggaa. My brain hurts) this season is that, in most of his starts he looks fine. It seems like his two seamer still has a ton of movement on it and that his slider has good bite to it, but it feels like every time a batter makes contact with a pitch it gets hit hard. I know there have been a couple of occasions this year where I have been watching a game and seen a little slider that looks like a nice pitch get hit to the outfield and look like a routine lineout and when the camera pans to the outfield it's scraping over the fence for a homerun. Granted there have been a few times, namely a start against the Pirates back in June, where Armando has just looked terrible, but you could say that about nearly any pitcher not named Verlander or Jackson. I almost wish that there was some sort of website that had advanced statistics that was easily accessible and gave information like BABip and line drive rate. Maybe I'll invent it and name it Fangraphs or make a subscription website named Baseball Prospectus and charge people for that data! This is how I'm going to make my millions off the Internet and leave this whole law job behind. Suckers. Now to just go register those domain names and.......wait.....hmmm......it seems someone has already done that. Crap. Well now I'm way to disappointed to actually access those statistics and make a point about Galaragga hopefully heading towards some kind of correction between his stats and performance. Here's hoping that he finds some middle ground between his April stats and his current ones and turns into a solid league average #4 starter down the stretch. Grade C-

Luke French: After the disaster with Jacques Jones last season I was ready to swear off any baseball player that had any kind of tangential connection to France whether it be cheese, froglegs, baguettes, a French sounding name or Steve Jeltz's gherri curl . Even if Napoleons skeleton rose from the grave and his tiny stature made him the most effective leadoff hitter since Tony Phillips or I found out the Curtis Granderson was a member of the Jacobin Club I was adamantly opposed to cheering for anything remotely French again. So when I saw some dude named Luke French was not only sliding into the rotation but was also replacing my latest Latin pitching obsession I was less than pleased. However French has slowly won me over because if there is one thing I love more than hard throwing Latin pitchers with a ton of movement, it's crafty left handed pitchers that get by with control, deception, moxie, guts, whatever name you want to call it, etc, and etc. French has only made three starts since joining the rotation following the demotion of Alfredo Figaro and has pitched admirably well in all three games, including a great start against a hot Yankees team that could've earned him a win if not for Joel Zumaya's final disasterpiece before hitting the DL. The Tigers top three starters have been so good this season that they really only need to get league average or so pitching from the other two spots in the rotation to be O.K. If French can keep up a league average performance as well as provide the rotation with the token southpaw that could give some of the left-leaning A.L. teams some trouble down the stretch, he would be a very valuable commodity. However this is also coming from someone who was genuinely excited about Andy Van Hekken's future. Grade: A

Alfredo Figaro: Anyone who has read this site over the past few years knows my endless obsession with tall, thin Latino pitchers who throw hard and have a ton of movement on their pitches. The obsession began with Wil Ledezma who, and I mention this every time because it may have been the most insane thing I've ever written and this is coming from someone who just wrote about Napoleans skeleton batting leadoff for the Tigers, I thought had the potential to be the next Pedro Martinez. Seriously I should have been Ledezma's agent just for the fact that it would have been hilarious for me to be on the phone with the Washington Nationals GM after they DFA'ed Ledezma this season screaming, "I hope you know he's going to mention what a jackass you are during his Hall of Fame speech, you assclown!". After Ledezma was unceremoniously dumped on the Braves my attention turned towards Yorman Bazardo. I didn't have as high a ceiling for Bazardo as I did Ledezma because I think I only compared Bazardo to the second coming of Luis Tiant. Of course that didn't work out either as I'm pretty sure Bazardo is selling oranges in a little cart outside my law office nowadays. So when Figaro made his debut against the Brewers on national TV I made a promise to myself not to get to excited no matter how well he pitched. Of course this lasted only until about the 4th inning of a stellar debut that had me online purchasing a customized and authentic Figaro jersey. That pretty much jinxed him for life and by his next start he was giving up second deck bombs to Kaz Matsui and earning a one way ticket back to Toledo. I hope he makes it back otherwise my Figaro jersey is going to look awfully foolish. Grade: Inc.

Dontrelle Willis and Jeremy Bonderman: Of course with all good news there has to be bad news. Like "hey, some girl like Andy! Oh, she's got three legs and a hump....". So even though the pitching has been a pleasant surprise this year, ranking second in the A.L. behind only the Mariners, there have been two things that have gone horribly awry and their names are Dontrelle Willis and Jeremy Bonderman. Both of these pitchers are dealing with serious problems that may be putting their careers in jeopardy. Dontrelle had the stunning news at the end of spring training that he was going on the D.L. with an anxiety disorder. After months of rehab in the minors as well as medication by team doctors, Dontrelle made his debut with the big league club. With everyone, including myself, expecting the worst D-Train's first start was solid. He followed that up with an impressive one-hitter against the Texas Rangers that had many people, again myself included, claiming he was back. Things slowly unraveled from there and by his last start in Pittsburgh he was a complete and total mess. Walking batter after batter and looking completely lost on the mound. It was painful to watch someone's career ending right before your eyes. Not surprisingly after the game D-Train was back on the D.L. with a recurrence of his anxiety disorder. Bonderman's issues were physical as he had major surgery last season on his shoulder to correct a blood clot issue. Rumors spread that there may have been damage done to a nerve during the surgery and Bonderman pitching ineffectively during spring training and his minor league rehab assignment did little to dispel those rumors. After making one start against the White Sox that featured below average velocity and stuff Bonderman was back on the D.L. for another extended stay. It appears that neither of these pitchers will be able to help the Tigers this season as the team pursues an A.L. Central crown but here is hoping that they both can get their health and careers back on track and contribute to next years team in some capacity. Grade: Inc.

New Content Coming Soon

To the five people who read this site that aren't my cat or my mom I promise to post some new content ASAP. For those who were wondering about my latest mysterious disappearance I'm sorry to say it's for a rather boring reason. I've previously explained away absences by blaming my meth addiction, taking journeys through Paris with the ghost of Ernest Hemingway or being abducted by a clan of underground ninjas whose secrets I threatened to expose but this time I was away because I passed by the bar exam (Hey 8th times a charm). This has led to me having to work hard at a regular 9-5 job for the first time in my life and the adjustment has been absolutely brutal. Now that my fledgling law practice is starting to get off the ground a little, I feel like I can get back to writing on this blog, which has always been one of my favorite things to do. Even better I can now bill a clueless client for the time I spend writing about some mundane Tigers transaction. It's really win-win for everyone.

Hugs,

Beefshower

The Fifth Annual Authoritative Detroit Tigers Season Preview Vol. 1

Holy crap! Tomorrow is Opening Day. The only thing I had written in my planner for the whole month of March was....and to write my Annual Detroit Tigers Season Preview. Now here it is a week into April and I haven't written a single word about the Tigers. I think the reason this season has snuck up on me is because it doesn't really feel like spring yet. For example, as I'm writing this right now a heavy and wet snow is falling outside my window and I'm trying to stay warm in my apartment by burning all of my books and wrapping myself in layers of bearskins and beaver pelts while growing a long grizzled beard. I look and feel more like I'm getting ready to join Henry Hudson on an expedition through Arctic waters than I feel ready to watch Opening Day tomorrow night. I'm sure it will be just as cold and miserable in Toronto tomorrow night as it will be in Michigan and I hope the Blue Jays do something to commemorate the occasion of opening the season in sub-zero (Celsius, of course) temperatures by having their most famous citizen, Yeti, throw out the first pitch.

Wait, why am I complaining about some bad weather? Tomorrow is the beginning of baseball season, which for me is the most exciting day on the sports calendar not involving women's field hockey or Olympic Qualifying for German men's handball. If anything, when the first pitch is thrown tomorrow night all of the snow will melt away and flowers will bloom, the packs of hungry timberwolves roaming the streets will be replaced by singing robins and playful chipmunks and Old Man Winter will die a sudden and violent death gasping for air and clutching his throat as he's replaced by the smiling, giggling baby Sun from the Teletubbies.

In past season previews I have usually given a short recap of the prior year and tried to put a positive spin on it, but I'm going to skip that this year. This is because the Tigers 2008 season has to rank as one of the most depressingly disappointing seasons in the history of sports. Sure the Tigers have had several seasons with won-loss records worse than last years 74-88 record, but there were usually no expectations for those teams. However after the offseason trades that brought in Miguel Cabrera and Edgar Renteria, as well as the continued excellence of Magglio, Placido and Guillen, the rising stardom of Granderson and a dead cat bounce season from Gary Sheffield last years Tigers outfit came affixed with a guarantee to score a thousand runs and bludgeon opposing teams pitching staffs into submission. However in the time it takes to recite all the U.S. Presidents without consulting Wikipedia, (for me about a week because all the ones after Lincoln look identical, you know those guys...the ones with the moustaches) it became apparent the Tigers were over hyped and barrelling towards disappointment. The offense looked old and was wildly inconsistent, fluctuating between getting shutout on three hits by Gavin Floyd and scoring nineteen runs on a seemingly daily basis. The pitching staff wasn't able to pick up the slack as they dealt with injury, ineffectiveness and bad luck in almost equal doses. Finally the defense overwent a major facelift in the early stages of the season, with several players switching positions on the fly, and never seemed to gel. In fact I would go so far as to say the past year, dating back to the beginning of last April when Tigers began the year 0-7, has been the most difficult and trying year as a Detroit sports fan and Michigan resident in decades. It began with the disappointing Tigers season, then the Pistons losing to the Celtics in the playoffs, 0-16 for the Lions, 3-9 for Michigan football, Chauncey being traded, the Pistons struggling to make the playoffs this year, tens of thousands of people losing their jobs and homes and the Big Three teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. And to think, this is all Edgar Renteria's fault, and if Detroit were somehow relocated to 14th century Europe Renteria would certainly have been presumed to be some sort of warlock that had brought an evil spirit to the city and led to a year of darkness and bad hoodoo. Uttering his name in Detroit would lead to mothers covering their children's ears and elderly women blowing out their candles and slamming their shutters closed. Edgars swath of destruction in his one season as a Tiger is truly legendary and hopefully now that he's been banished to San Francisco happy days can return to Detroit.

Alas, the season preview...

Mike Ilitch: During the first few years that I wrote these season previews I was hard on Ilitch and his tenure as owner of the Tigers. I blamed him for sticking with Randy Smith as general manager for about 3 years to long. I cursed him for being reluctant to spend any money in free agency and failing to put a competitive team on the field during the first few seasons at Comerica Park, especially the 2003 season. I compared his appearance to Nosferatu with a gheri curl and blamed his cheap pizzas for giving me a heart murmur, but now I feel the need to defend him. We've become a version of the odd couple, the penniless, handsome, young and talented recent college grad and the billionaire, hideous, ancient and translucent pizza industry mogul. However I'm sick of all the rumors that the economy in Detroit will force some kind of massive firesale not seen in baseball since the '97 Marlins or early '90's Padres. The most egregious of these believers is Bill Simmons who has written about it repeatedly and even devoted a lengthy portion of one of his podcasts to the subject. He's practically counting down the days until the Red Sox trade for Miguel Cabrera in exchange for some middling overhyped Red Sox prospect like Ryan Kalish or something. Look I know shit in Michigan is bad right now. It's arguably the most economically depressed state in the country and if GM and Chrysler go under the damage would be devastating. However it's not like everyone in the state is penniless. Sure season ticket sales are down drastically but I think thats a product of a last place finish as much as anything. Also Ilitch's wealth isn't tied to the auto industry in the least (I think a lot of outsiders thinks the whole state of Michigan is employed by or financially dependant on GM/Ford/Chrysler) and his net worth supposedly went up in the past season (unlike several owners who have lost millions in this economy i.e. the Wilpons). He's also ridden out tough times in the NHL and isnt cut from the same cloth as some owners that care only about the bottom line. I believe that nothing motivates people like the icy cold hand of death approaching them. I don't mean to sound grim or insensitive but Ilitch is getting quite old and from everything I've read the one thing Ilitch wants more than anything right now, besides an endless supply of blood for sustenance, is to bring a World Series Championship to Detroit. I realize this is overly simplistic but so are many of the arguments about why the Tigers are facing economic disaster.

Jim Leyland: Leyland goes into this season with his managerial butt firmly on the hot seat, and not because he fell asleep on the couch with a cigarette in his mouth. After last season Leyland was a little miffed that he did not receive a contract extension. There were also rumblings of a growing discord in the previously tight relationship between Dombrowski and Leyland. How quickly past accomplishments are forgotten in a win now environment with the second highest payroll in baseball. It just seems like yesterday that Leyland was kissing his wife through the fence and getting carried of the field after Magglio's walk off homerun in the ALCS in 2006. There is no question that Leyland will be managing for his very job this season and Dombrowski is accommodating him by allowing him to take the 25 players that Leyland sees as the best fit for the team come north with him. Even if that did mean the embarrassing scenario of cutting bait and eating 14 million dollars in payroll for a much ballyhooed addition to the team just a couple of seasons ago, as well as allowing him to take a couple of pitchers who between them have very little pro experience and none above A ball.

Gerald Laird: Laird is the Tigers new starting backstop. If that statement doesnt really inspire a lot of confidence there is a reason for it. Laird broke out with the Rangers in 2006 while splitting time with Rod Barrajas. He was given the full time job in 2007 and promptly fell flat on his face. Last year Laird split time with a gaggle of Rangers catching prospects and after putting up slightly below average offensive production coupled with slightly above average defense was deemed expendable as the Rangers decided to flip him to the Tigers for a pair of live minor league arms. Laird is the definition of a league average catcher with decent pop, low OBP and decent defense. The thing that impresses me the most about Laird is that he has been able to succeed despite having an ugly sounding name. I'm a big believer that a person's name plays an important part in how their life will turn out. For example if your name is Colt McCoy is there really any doubt that you're going to grow up and become a star quarterback? Would Cole Hamels have grown up to be the ace of the World Champion Phillies and married to a model if his name had been Melvin Thorpe? If Gerald Laird were to exist in 1930's Hollywood I guarantee the first thing that would've happened is some cigar smoking, bowtie wearing studio executive would have changed his name to Jerry Sexington or Chase Powers or something outrageous like that. Just say Laird's name out loud and tell me it doesnt sound like the guttural sounds someone makes when they are having a stroke or vomiting.

Miguel Cabrera: There was some concern last season when Cabrera got off to a slow start at the plate, slugging about 100 points lower than his career average midway through June. This was coupled with his atrociously bad defense at third base, which prompted a move across the diamond (to replace the equally atrocious Carlos Guillen at first) as well as another round of questions about his conditioning and dedication to the game. Then over the course of the last three months of the season Cabrera caught fire and slugged over .600 and hit 21 second half homeruns which propelled him into the league lead. He also adapted quite nicely to playing first base and even though he may never cover much range he did prove adept at picking throws out of the dirt and making the occasional spectacular diving stab of a line drive shot. Questions about his conditioning still persist but with his natural talent and the fact that he's still so young, (he'll turn 26 in a couple of weeks) there is a chance that we haven't even seen his best seasons yet.

Placido Polanco: Polanco is entering the final year of the four year contract he signed with the Tigers shortly after his arrival in the trade that sent Uegeth Urbina to Philadelphia, back when Dombrowski was still making trades that worked out favorably for Detroit (Pre-Jurrjens/Hernandez/Renteria). No one can argue that Polanco hasn't been a bargain for the duration of this contract, back when Dombrowski was still signing guys for below market value (Pre-Robertson/Willis). It will be interesting to see what happens with Polanco following this season. If he puts up another .300/.350/.400 season with solid defense there will be a strong sentiment to re-sign him and possibly reward him for his past performance when he was vastly underpaid. However if there is one thing that my subscription to BP has taught me its that baseball is a business and the best route is to ruthlessly cut loose any player in his mid-30's regardless of sentimental value as they are likely on the downslope of their career. However, given the relative dearth of options on the free agent market following this season at the keystone (Freddy Sanchez anyone?) and the similar lack of options up the middle in the minors the Tigers may find themselves backed into a corner when it comes to negotiating with Polanco this offseason.

Adam Everett: When you live a fast paced lifestyle like I do, with sports cars (my 2001 Buick Century), illicit drug use (drinking cough syrup until I pass out), beautiful women (my obese cat Sgt. Hugs) and thousands of dollars (...in student loan debt) you don't have time to regret anything. In fact "No Regrets" is kind of my motto to live by as evidenced by the large Hello Kitty crossbones tattoo that covers my entire back will emphatically tell you. Long story short I can't really empathize with the regret Dave Dombrowski must feel when he looks out at Adam Everett starting at shortstop every day. Sure Everett isn't really costing them anything monetarily as he signed a 1 year 1 million dollar deal this past offseason, but his anemic bat and slick glove are whats left to show for Dombrowski's decision to trade Jair Jurrjens and Gorkys Hernandez for Edgar Renteria. I know I've mentioned that trade a hundred times already but it may take years of therapy for me to get over that deal, so instead of continuing to bitch about the trade I'll shift gears to something else. After the Rays shaved hundreds of runs off their runs allowed total en route to the World Series last year defense became the hot commodity during the offseason. Much of the credit for the Rays defensive turnaround was credited to their acquiring Jason Bartlett a no hit good-glove shortstop from the Minnesota Twins. Well lucky for Detroit they signed a similar scrappy white shortstop with a good defensive reputation away from their AL Central rival Twins. He should be a vast improvement defensively over Renteria who had all the range of my 84 year old wheelchair bound Grandpa. Did I mention we traded Jair.......whoops sorry.

Brandon Inge: I think the lesson I learned from Brandon Inge last season was that if things aren't going your way or your employee asks you to sacrifice for the good of the team the proper and professional way to act is to publicly question their decisions through thinly veiled passive aggresive remarks. Maybe even demand a trade or two or openly sulk to the point that it effects my job performance. Sure this method may get me called out by my boss and may even make my image take a hit but I would be so wildly overpaid that no one else would want me and eventually I would get my way and even a promotion. Probably from the sarcastic tone of those first few sentences its pretty clear that Inge isn't my favorite Tiger. He's joined the list of Tigers, headed by Bobby Higginson, who I once cheered for but who hung around long enough for me to grow to hate them. His defense at the hot corner is rather spectacular and he is exciting to watch while in the field but his performance at the plate has been putrid since his flukey 2006 power surge. His OPS the past two seasons have been sub 700, which means he has to be Brooks Robinson-esqe in the field to drag his worth above replacement value. However maybe now that he's been properly coddled and has the job he wants he'll be able to produce a little with the bat.

Matt Treanor: I don't know anything about Matt Treanor other than the fact that his wife is infinitely more popular and famous than he is and she's a professional beach volleyball player. This led to my startling discovery that there is such a thing as professional beach volleyball. Treanor joins the long line of backup catchers who passed through Detroit for only a season or two before fading away into oblivion, although there is still a chance that the team is waiting for Vance Wilson to return from his seemingly decade long rehab from Tommy John surgery. I'm a little disappointed in the teams decision to bring in Treanor as I had worked myself up into a hot sweaty lather over the prospect of the beginning of the Dusty Ryan era after his promising cup of coffee with the team last September. Oh well Dusty's absence will only make my heart grow fonder.

Ramon Santiago: I've always been a big fan of Santiago and I was hoping he would get a crack at landing the every day job after The Disaster Known as Edgar Renteria had his option declined within seconds of the 2008 season ending.

Magglio Ordonez: Magglio regressed from his MVP caliber 2007 season but still put together an impressive season. He's essentially a .300/.370/.500 player who will hit 20-25 homeruns and drive in 100 plus RBI's a season. He'll never come close to putting up the numbers he did two years ago but he's still well above average for a corner outfielder. Sadly this could be Magglio's final season in Detroit as his name constantly gets bandied about in trade rumors and if the Tigers struggle out of the gate and look to shed some payroll he could be moved. Given how critical many in the media were when the Tigers handed this contract out when Magglio was coming off a devastating knee injury that required some sort of radical surgery that wasn't even legal to perform in this country, this deal turned out surprisingly well for the Tigers.

Curtis Granderson: Granderson wasn't able to match his 2007 season at the plate or in the field. But he still had a productive season overall and ranks among the best centerfielders and most exciting players in the game. Even with a decrease across the board in Granderson's slash stats there were still improvements in his game that, like Cabrera lead some to belief that we haven't even seen the best of Granderson yet. Namely he increased his walk rate while slashing his strikeout rate for the third consecutive season. Also he learned to hit left-handers after previously being completely helpless against them. Granderson had been so bad against lefties before last season that there was a groundswell last spring to have him platoon with a 12 year old blind girl named Nicole Cramer who played in one of those leagues with the beeping baseballs. The only reason the Tigers didn't go through with it was because the idea of a 12 year old blind girl playing professional baseball would have made Rick Reilly orgasm to death and the Tigers didn't want that blood and.....uh....other matter on their hands.

Carlos Guillen: Once again Guillen is switching positions, this time heading to left field. Last year saw his odyssey take him from shortstop to first base, where his awful footwork around the bag almost led to him getting killed in a collision with someone barrelling down the first base line on several occasions. Once it became apparent that both him and Cabrera were out of place defensively the two swapped spots across the diamond where Guillen provided above average defense. He was sidelined at one point by a killer case of hemorrhoids, which is the worst possible injury imaginable. I know this from experience as I seemed to have developed a raging case of them just while writing this insanely long blog post. Anyways Guillen is still athletic enough to where he could be an asset defensively in the outfield and maybe the position takes some of the burden of his aching surgically repaired knees that will allow his bat to return to the level it was a couple of years back.

Marcus Thames: After years of being jerked around by the front office, dating back to 2005 when he didn't make the team coming out of spring training because the team was to gutless to cut ties with Bobby Higginson rotting carcass, Thames has finally forced his way into a major role on the team. A year removed from having the indignity of sharing the short half of a platoon with Jacques Jones it looked like Thames might once again lose significant playing time and possibly his spot on the roster to another aging and washed up veteran, this time future Hall of Famer Gary Sheffield. However, in a surprising move the Tigers cut ties with Sheffield and ate 14 million dollars in remaining salary just for the privilege of having Sheffield not play for them this season. If I were an owner with an infinite amount of money, I think a good way to punish a G.M. who had handed an ill advised contract would be to sit him down and make him actually eat 14 million dollars in singles with a knife and fork for my entertainment. With Sheffield gone Thames will appear to get a full seasons worth of at bats while rotating between the outfield corners and DH. He has the potential to put up the following slash stats in a full season of at-bats: .220/.280/.600. Just as an idea of what kind of player Thames could end up being Baseball Prospectus lists his top player comps as Dave Kingman, Pete Incaviglia and Steve Balboni. I've always had a soft spot for these kinds of all or nothing power hitters and I'm glad Thames finally seems to be getting a full season worth of playing time in Detroit.

Josh Anderson: Anderson is the newest Tiger, having been acquired for one of the several minor league relievers the Tigers seemingly throw into every deal. In this case a side arm reliver named Rudy Darrow. I know even less about Darrow than I do Anderson so I can't really offer any insight on to whether this is a good trade or not. I really cant offer any insight into anything though, so this couldnt really come as any surprise. Most of Anderson's value lies in his batting average, as a glance at his career number reveals little plate discipline and a modicum of power. He also brings a decent amount of speed to the lineup having stole 52 bases between AAA and the majors last season, while only being caught 8 times, so he could have his uses as a pinch runner. Supposedly he also brings good defense to the table, even though he might be a bit overmatched for the expansive centerfield at Comerica. But with a team currently running Magglio, Guillen and Thames out to play defense in the corners Anderson could have some utility as a late inning defensive replacement for any of the aforementioned aging/iron gloved trio. It's been awhile since the Tigers have had a legitimate speed threat on their roster, maybe since Alex Sanchez who was arguably the worst baserunner in Tigers history. Sanchez had as much sense on the basepaths as the squirrel in the video on those late night sports bloopers shows that ran around the paths to Benny Hill's theme music. Somewhere Andres Torres is wondering if Dave Dombrowski lost his phone number because Anderson's job was supposed to be Torres' destiny.

The Return

I've been away for months and unlike my previous absences where I explained away my lack of posting by personally showing up at the doorsteps of my twelve faithful readers hat in hand and bindle over the shoulder and admitting to letting them down with my laziness. However if they were willing to just give this lonely vagrant blogger a place to stay, a laptop to write with, a little encouragement and some vittles I wouldn't disappoint them again. Of course this led to people asking who I was and what I was doing on their doorstep and the polite few who let me in to their homes were paid back by having their couch defiled, their appliances stolen and empty cans of beans littered about the kitchen. I had an opportunity to win back my readers trust and I blew it. This time though I have a legitimate excuse for neglecting my website for an obscene amount of time. It started off innocently enough when I travelled to the United Nations General Assembly to clear up a simple case of mistaken identity. Next thing I know the diplomat I'm talking to gets a knife thrown into his back, I'm accused of murdering him and I'm stowing away on a train bound for Chicago where I spend the night making love to a flirtatious young blond. Things just got crazier from there. I got shot at by a crop duster while traveling through rural northern Indiana (which, come to think of it really isnt that odd) and got into a fistfight at an auction for expensive artwork in Chicago before everything culminated in a wrestling match between a surprisingly strong and agile 77 year old Martin Landau and I on the side of Lincoln's face atop Mt. Rushmore. Aside from a few scrapes and bruises everything is fine now, my name has been cleared and as a bonus I'm proud to announce my recent engagement to the stunning Eva Marie Saint.
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O.k. I must admit something. None of what I wrote in that first paragraph, aside from soiling my friends couch, is true. Yes, yes I know that's probably shocking to most of you that read this site and come to hear me regale my exciting adventures and epic journeys, such as my 2,000 word story about buying baseball cards from a homeless man at a Burger King drive-thru in Detroit. It's like I'm a modern day Sir Francis Drake or something. Anyways I just inserted myself into the role of Cary Grant in the famous and very entertaining North by Northwest, which was one of the many movies I watched during the months long depression that followed after I found out I failed the bar exam in November. Once again I know what you're thinking, partly because of the new mind reading device I've been tinkering with the past few weeks but mostly because you're so damn predictable (right now you're thinking about how delicious toast is and you're regretting skipping out on breakfast in lieu of the 9 more minutes of sleep you got for hitting the snooze button, you're that easy). You're probably thinking or rather standing up and shouting, "But Andrew you're the smartest man I know and if the Board of Examiners tested on the subjects that were actually important to the practice of law such as looks, personality, wit, taste in food and clothes and how to properly cut an onion you would be aces." Unfortunately they didn't test those subjects last summer, nor did they hit on any of my other areas of expertise like old Tigers statistics, Raul Julia's filmography and how to make cocaine. I spent hours listening to Clipse CD's and spent several hundred dollars enrolling in that bar review course run by a group of violent gang members who used to hang out in front of my building for absolutely nothing. Instead they asked about things called "Trusts" and "Secured Transactions" which surprisingly has nothing to do with confident transsexuals. Who knew.

With that being said it should come as no surprise that in early November I received a large first class envelope with a letter inside informing me that I had failed the bar exam but was more than welcome to come back and take it again in February. Now in all honesty there have been many times in my life that I have felt like a failure. When I've gotten bad grades, when I've been dumped by my girlfriend, when my parents call me a failure on my birthday every year, or the other night when I was in my apartment watching Extra at 3 A.M. as Mario Lopez profiled how to get in the best shape of your life with the advice of 20 something year old trainers as I sat on the couch with my obese cat laying on my chest picking out the Krackel's from a bag of Hershey's miniatures. It was exactly like that Garfield comic strip when John Arbuckle hangs himself with his belt in the last panel. However this was the first time my failure had been spelled out in bold caps on a piece of paper and mailed to my house first class. I didnt handle it well and for about two weeks I sat in complete darkness in my apartment, watched a million movies through Netflix and ate Shells and Cheese directly from the pan before finally deciding to re-dedicate myself to studying and passing the bar exam when I retook the damn thing in February.

I also had to move away from my beloved Detroit as the lease on my apartment (which was about a mile away from Comerica) was expiring and the job market in Metro Detroit wasn't exactly the best place for a 25 year old with almost zero work experience to find a job. So I went to the library and researched for vibrant cities with a rising population, a robust job market, a ton of young professionals and many attractive young women. The one city that came up every time was Flint, Michigan. So I rushed due north 80 miles and signed a lease at the first building I saw with a now leasing sign hanging in the window. Much to my dismay I later found out that the book I was researching out of was published in 1957, which I should have realized when it said by 1999 1/2 the worlds population will have relocated to the moon accompanied with a cartoon of Bob Hope and Dwight Eisenhower playing golf in space cadet suits with alien caddies. Oh well it's not like Flint is without its perks. The 25% unemployment rate within the city makes drugs more accessible, dangerous and cheaper than they ever were in Detroit, Halo Burger is the most amazing fast food restaurant in the world and Flint boasts the highest amount of soiled matresses laying on the side of the road per capita than any other city of 100,000+ in the North America (take that Mexico City!!).

This is all just a long way of saying I have nothing to do now. So I thought I would dust off the old blog and get back into chronicling the Tigers season and posting other odds and ends before the fumes from the meth lab above my apartment rot my brain and teeth to the point of not being able to communicate. This should be fun.

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Detroit Tigers Season in Review: Vol. 2

Part one of the season review is below. If you desire to read it then you have 30 seconds to scroll down or risk the previous posts self-destructing on your computer screen and not in that humorous cartoony way where soot blows in your face and spins your duck bill around to the back of your head. No, I'm talking about Die Hard level explosions with flames billowing through the heating vents and blowing the roof off the top of your house. So seriously, if you havent read the first installment do so now and if you have read it and are just coming back for seconds then I guess this would be a good time to inform you that this season review is a $10,000 a post fundraiser for my last ditch attempt to run for political office this November. Not for any U.S. state or federal office mind you, but rather I'm throwing my hat into the Romanian national legislative race on the National Peasants Party ticket. We'll no longer let those fat cats in Bucharest walk around in their fancy brightly colored sweaters and acid washed jeans as they ignore the plight of the average agrarian worker. Jesus, I don't even know what I'm writing about anymore but I do know I just spent an hour of my life researching Romania, (well five minutes on the countries Wikipedia page and 55 minutes Google image searching for photos of their Olympic gymnasts, but I'm counting that as research anyways.) to make some unfunny jokes about.....something. Anyways on to the pitchers.

Justin Verlander: Before the season began my stoner friend TJ (I feel it necessary to refer to TJ exclusively as my stoner friend, even though I probably have two others that would comfortably fit under that same title. I think everyone has a friend or two like this in their current circle or in their not to distant past, and frankly it's terrifying. I've made a point of remaining on the straight and narrow for most of my young adult life. Sure I've done some pretty stupid stuff over the years but I was careful to make show nothing ever stuck because of an official record or a video camera. I even deleted my MySpace account because I was worried that something I wrote or posted on there would come back to bite me in the future. Sure this may be more a sign of some kind of narcissistic/paranoid/delusional personality disorder than anything else but a part of me is idealistic no matter how hopeless that may seem and I'd like to run for office one day. The fact that this hope could be submarined by a couple of friends who work at the outlet mall, smoke weed multiple times a day and spend all their free time watching/playing Pokemon or building Star Wars models out of Legos keeps me awake at night. My biggest fear is one day being elected to office, let's just hypothetically say I'm a state rep working in Lansing, and as I open the door to my office I see everything clouded with smoke and the acrid smell of marijuana as T.J. sits on a couch eating macaroni and cheese straight out of the pot while my friend Mike is fast forwarding to all the parts showing nudity in the most recent Starship Troopers direct to video DVD. I wasn't expecting this parenthses to be this long. My apologies) and I made a list of pre-season predictions. Looking back on it now it's laughable how overly enthusiastic we were in late March. Back then we predicted that Verlander would build on his stellar sophomore season and become the Tigers first 20 game winner since Bill Gullickson in 1991 as well as lowering his ERA, bumping up his K rate and possibly taking home a Cy Young award. Wrong, wrong and wrong. Instead Verlander put up by far the worst statistical season of his young career. On top of that his stuff seemed to regress, so much at one point that some were wondering if he was injured. In 2008 the Tigers didn't see the same Verlander who was throwing 102 MPH in the ninth inning of his no-hitter the previous year. His curveball didnt seem to have the same bite as it had in past seasons either. Another unsettling aspect to Verlander's season was his apparent immaturity and unwillingness to say he pitched like crap on nights that he obviously did. This was a little grating as a fan, when you would tune into the postgame report and Verlander would be standing there by his locker after giving up 8 runs saying things like "Well I felt pretty good out there but I made a few mistakes and the other team capitalized on them." This would be like me explaining away a C grade by saying "Well I think I understood Tax Law pretty well except the professor asked too many tough questions." (However, unlike with Verlander it was a 100% true in my case.) Leyland called Verlander out on this lack of accountability a couple of times. I'm wrapping this up with Verlander. Before the season I thought Verlander was going to be an ace the Tigers could rely on for the next decade. Now there's a chance, granted a small one, that maybe we've already seen the best of Verlander. There's a long line of pitchers who peaked early in their career and then had long mediocre stretch. So if Justin Verlander became the next Matt Morris instead of the next Jim Palmer I wouldnt be surprised. Grade: C-

Armando Galarraga: Now this was a surprise. Kind of. I have this crazy theory of a Jewish and Masonic plot to achieve world domination. Wait, no that was Henry Ford's theory from the 20's. My theory relates to David Dombrowski. Throughout his career Dombrowski has been in charge of some teams with pretty low budgets. This has required him and the front offices he's worked with to evaluate young players to pursue via the draft or trades instead of big free agent signings. The late 80's and early 90's Expos remained competitive for years due to a great minor league system that produced a number of young stars that were traded for other young talent shortly before they hit free agency. The obvious exception of course is the 1997 Marlins, which won the World Series with what was practically an All-Star team but afterwards he had to infamously dismantle the team in a wildly unpopular fire sale. Of course the Marlins were terrible for a few years after all the trading but Dombrowski's post World Series dealing led to the foundation of a young team that went on to win another World Series in 2003. When Dombrowski took over the Tigers he inherited one of the worst teams and lowest payrolls in baseball. However through shrewd trades and drafting along with a couple of big free agent signings (after years of drafting incompetence by Randy Smith, which has been mostly forgotten about thanks to the historically inept reign of terror presided over by Matt Millen) he quickly turned the Tigers into a contender. O.k. I probably should have put more thought into this theory and I don't feel like analyzing every move Dombrowski has made over the years, but long story short I think Dombrowski is more comfortable and better suited to run a team thats more geared towards youth and development, then a team that signs a bunch of expensive free agents and has a payroll north of $140 million. Grade: A-

Nate Robertson: People who have read this site for awhile know that Jason Grilli was a favorite whipping boy of mine over the past few seasons. After Grilli was jettisoned I was searching for a new person on the Tigers to aim my vitriol at. Todd Jones was the natural choice but it was a rather lazy and uninspired one. Edgar Renteria hadn't yet plummeted to the depths of suckitude he would reach by the All-Star break. So my attention reluctantly turned to the bespectacled train wreck who took the mound every fifth day. I say reluctantly because as I've mentioned in the past I have a soft spot for any Tiger who was a member of that historically bad 2003 squad no matter how briefly they were on it. But Robertson was so consistently atrocious this entire season that he quickly found his way to the center of my cold, shriveled, blackened heart. Grade: F

Kenny Rogers: Gamblor is probably finished as a Tiger, which is sad in a way. His short tenure with the Tigers will go down as one of my favorites. I'll miss his comically overgrown jaw. The strange stroke faces he would make when he was delivering each pitch. At the beginning of the season I thought it was foolish of the Tigers to expect Rogers to make 30 starts and make it through the season healthy enough to pitch effectively in the post-season. Unfortunately we don't have to worry about that problem because the Tigers couldn't even finish ahead of the freaking Kansas City Royals. The Royals haven't been out of the A.L. Central basement in so long you'd think they were lonely sports bloggers. (Zing! Somewhere Chris McCoskey is laughing to himself while wondering how to type with a bucket a chicken stuck to both hands.) Of course Rogers poor pitching this season was part of the reason why the Tigers finished in last place. I know he hasn't officially retired but Rogers did look D-U-N done this past season. Crafty 40-something lefties like Jamie Moyer and Rogers are some of my favorite players in baseball, next to back-up catchers, but they do walk a fine line of effectiveness and if they aren't perfect the results will usually be ugly. I don't want to remember the Rogers of this past season though. When I think back on Rogers time in Detroit I'll definitely remember his spectacular postseason scoreless innings streak during that magical 2006 run. His pouring champagne on the police officer during the on-field celebration after beating the Yankees in the Divisional round, screaming hysterically and pumping his fist during late inning strikeouts and of course smearing enough pine tar on his hand that he looked like a juvenile delinquent that just got revenge on his group home mentors by rubbing feces all over the wall. Ah memories. Grade: D

Zach Miner: Less of a success story than Armando, Miner was impressive nonetheless. I've always been a pretty big fan of Miner's. Look I don't think he's the second coming of Greg Maddux or anything but I think Miner could definitely hold his own as a league average pitcher and solid back of the rotation starter, which as hard as it is to believe with a payroll exceeding 130 million dollars, is exactly what the Tigers are looking for. I feel like Miner has gotten the same treatment from the Tigers as Thames has. Sure he has some holes in his game but stop jerking him around between the bullpen and rotation and just let him be himself and come into the spring as one of the front runners if the not the favorite to hold down the number 5 spot in the rotation. Grade: B-

Dontrelle Willis: In the list of idiots who believed a change of scenery was all that was needed to turn Dontrelle back into an effective big-league pitcher, my name should be towards to top. Granted a few spots after the guy that traded for and then signed Dontrelle to a 3 year 30 million dollar contract. Of course hindsight is 20/20 but even though I thought Dontrelle would rebound some and become an effective middle of the rotation starter I still believed it was short sighted to reward him with a contract extension before he proved his effectiveness. Had Instead Dontrelle turned into the second coming of Steve Blass and completely lost control of the strike zone. His 35 walks in 24 innings was disastrous. The interesting and promising thing (and I admit that I'm grasping at straws here) about Dontrelle was the fact that he only gave up 18 hits in those same 24 innings. Granted I'm sure there were times that D-Train was so wild that most batters went to the plate with the specific instruction not to swing unless it was in defense of their life. On the flip side though, it still seemed like Dontrelle had some decent stuff. Granted he didn't know where the hell the ball was going half the time, but the velocity and movement on his pitches seemed solid. Grade: F

Jeremy Bonderman: For years I along with several other Tigers fans have been waiting for Bonderman to take the next step and establish himself as a premier young power pitcher. He's always been armed with a devastating slider and heavy fastball, but his utter lack to develop any kind of 3rd off-speed pitch hindered his development. For me this seemed like a make or break season for Bonderman. Either he was finally going to take that next step or he was always going to be what he always has been. Not that there was anything wrong with being a 15 game winner with a sub-4 ERA and a decent K rate, but he probably wasn't going to become Curt Schilling without all the annoying outspokeness and backwards political ideas. When the season began Bonderman appeared to have taken a step back. His slider wasn't biting as viciously as it used to, he was having problems locating his fastball and his K rate dropped precipitously. His regression wasn't something I was anticipating, so I was relieved to find out his ineffectiveness was due to injury and not some dip in his overall skill set. Not that I would ever want to see someone be injured especially with something as serious and potentially life threatening like Bonderman was going through with his blood clots but at least it was a legitimate excuse to his performance. Here's hoping that Bonderman comes back healthy and rested for next season and taking another shot at establishing himself as a great young pitcher. Grade: I

Freddy Garcia: When Garcia was getting ready to make his season debut in September I was expecting a complete disaster. The scouting reports when he signed claimed that his fastball was sitting in the mid-80's with a slider in the low to mid-70's, which is essentially batting practice for major league hitters and would be even more of a disaster since that first start was coming at Arlington against one of the most prolific offenses in baseball. Surprisingly Garcia pitched effectively, even without his best stuff, not allowing an earned run and striking out five in five innings pitched. He wasn't very good in his second start, allowing three homeruns in a loss to the Royals, but he finished strong on the final day of the season against his former White Sox team. Garcia showed that he's a smart pitcher who is savvy enough to pitch capably after major shoulder surgery. He's intriguing enough that I hope the Tigers re-sign him this off-season and see if he can give them 20-25 starts at the back of the rotation. Grade: I

Detroit Tigers Season in Review: Vol. 1

I've been meaning to write a season review for the past couple of weeks but I wasn't eager to get over the euphoria I've been feeling since Matt Millen was fired by revisiting the terribly disappointing failure of a season the Tigers had just finished. But it's just not in my nature to feel good about something for a long time and after watching the debacle at Ford Field on Sunday it finally set in that I was in the midst of watching another lost season for a Detroit franchise. So I might as well wrap up the Tigers season by handing out some end of the year grades. Usually I joke about my subjectivity when assigning these grades but this time I set up an objective scoring system that tested the Tigers skills in a variety of subjects such as Spelling, Math, Geography (dominated Ryan Raburn, even I didn't know the capital of Vermont was Montpelier) and an essay about who was the most influential person in their life (Highlighted by Marcus Thames thoroughly detailed biography on the life of Oliver Cromwell....who knew). Coincidentally their grades in this objective system matched up identically with my subjective, irrational and spiteful grades. Ah, I'm just kidding of course. Raburn was terrible at geography and I was just trying to sleep with his single mom. Enough nonsense though. Hark! (Trumpets sound). The grades, Sire!!!!!

Brandon Inge: I hate Brandon Inge. There I said it and I feel much better for having done so. I usually have a soft spot for the Tigers on the team that were members of the wretched 2003 squad and Brandon is the longest tenured Tiger on the team. With that being said tho, his play on the field and his attitude off of it have been so poor the past couple of seasons that I find myself disliking him. I don't understand why he mostly gets a free pass from the fan base either. I was at a game late this season where Inge got the start behind the plate and Sheffield started at DH. Both had equally miserable nights at the plate, striking out, leaving guys on base, hitting feeble infield pop-ups and for good measure Inge even accounted for a wild pitch that from my vantage point in the seats looked like it could have easily been scored a passed ball. Anyways, by the end of what was shaping up to be another Tigers loss Sheffield came to the plate for a final time and was booed roundly and enthusiastically by the crowd. He popped out and as he was trotting back to the dugout the boos came down with even more force. However when Inge was introduced before his final AB he was greeted to a nice sarcasm-free round of applause and cheers. The guy next to me went so far as to complain with a straight face that the Tigers biggest reason for their disappointing season was the teams decision to remove Inge as the everyday third baseman after the Cabrera trade. Inge made an out, of course and left the field to an indifferent silence. I just don't understand the love affair, or more accurately lack of hatred, for Inge. As if putting up slash stats of .205/.303/.369 wasn't enough to draw the ire of fans his constant complaining during spring training about losing his position to one of the top-5 hitters in the game and his insubordinate refusal to play back-up catcher for the good of the team should have been enough to turn the tide against his favor. Instead the team rewarded him by handing him the starting third base job next year without question or competition. I'm not ripping his skills playing third and he's arguably one of the top five defensively at his position but if he hits as putrid in '09 as he did this season he'll have to play Brooks Robinson level defense if not better. Personally I'd like to see the Tigers roll the dice and sign somebody like Joe Crede to push Inge for the job. Sure Crede's back is so wrecked he makes Quasimodo look like the picture of perfect posture, but if he's healthy he would provide equally good if not better defensive value and he wouldn't look like a blind 12 year old girl flailing wildly when he was at the plate. Just saying. Grade: D-

Dusty Ryan: When I first saw Dusty Ryan's name in the lineup I immediately confused him for the wrestler from the mid-80's Dusty Rhodes. I haven't been a wrestling fan in a good fifteen years or so but when I was in elementary school it was a pretty big part of my life. I remember high fiving my friend Don for successfully spitting a giant loogie on the back of Earthquake as he walked by during some crappy Tuesday night wrestling event at the Flint IMA. I was distraught when my Mom wouldn't buy me a Jake "The Snake" Roberts folder for school and equally pissed when I saw the slow kid who had to go to speech class carrying the same folder on the first day of class, (actually now that I think about it this may have happened just last year). Even my first run-in with a celebrity was when my friend Nick, his Dad Bob and I ran into Ted Dibiase ordering food at a McDonald's in Fenton. Of course I'm using the term "celebrity" loosely here but to a 3rd grader who was used to seeing "The Million Dollar Man" on television every Saturday morning it was the equivalent of the President parachuting into the parking lot wearing a full astronaut suit and playing an electric guitar that shot fireworks. So the nostalgic side of me was excited about the possibility of a fat catcher in a leotard that was accompanied by an obese female sidekick wearing a bumble bee outfit who sat in the dugout and threw salt in the opposing batters faces. Unfortunately my memory failed me as these two Dusty's spell and pronounce their last names differently. As for the Dusty Ryan who actually played for the Tigers, he was pretty impressive in his cup of coffee and hopefully features prominently into next years plans behind the plate. Grade: A-

Miguel Cabrera: This is going to be my first real cop-out. It's so much easier for me to be negative and cynical about everything and anything than it is for me to heap praise on somebody. But Cabrera was amazing this season. Just about every superlative you can come up with applies to Cabrera production at the plate. He even looked like a competent 1st baseman after being nothing short of a disaster at third base. So me saying nothing about Cabrera is actually the biggest compliment I could pay him. I'm definitely excited about the next 8 years. Grade: A

Placido Polanco: Placido did what he does every season. That's not just lazy analysis on my part either. Well not entirely. Here are Placido's career 162 game averages. 92 runs, 31 2B, 3 3B, 10 HR, 63 RBI, 8 SB, 34 BB, 43 SO, .306/.350/.416. Here's are Placido's stats from this season. 90 runs, 34 2B, 3 3B, 8 HR, 58 RBI, 7 SB, 35 BB, 43 SO, .307/.350/.417. That's amazingly consistent. In fact my source close to the team, who I made up just now, told me that the real Placido Polanco tragically passed away during this past off-season after the alien that had been living in his head burst open. The Tigers invested in a team of crack scientists specializing in robotics and created a eerily lifelike model and programmed him to hit and field according to Polanco's career averages. Under the model name Placi-Tron 9000 the prototype was a rousing success (and much more productive than Macias-borg CX-100) and manufacturing began on several back-up models to be used over the remaining seasons left on Placido's contract, which are stored in an abandoned storage room underneath the Whitcomb Observatory on Belle Isle. Spooky. Grade: B

Carlos Guillen: Guillen used to fit in the category with Polanco and Maggs for being crazy consistent. Where you could pretty much pencil in .300/20/100 at the start of the season and plan accordingly. Guillen started strong too, being about the only Tiger pulling his weight on offense during the miserable first month of the season that saw the Tigers stumble out of the gate. However from then on he regressed terribly at the plate, almost got run over at first base a dozen times do to some of the worst footwork ever seen at the position, battled nagging injuries and 'roids (not the illegal kind but the kind that make it hell to sit down without a padded seat) got jerked around between a few positions and ended the season on the DL with a balky back. Not the kind of season you would hope for from a guy in the first year of a 4 year 48 million dollar contract. Now to appease crybaby Inge, (have I mentioned that I don't like Inge anymore?) Guillen is once again switching positions and taking over as the everyday left-fielder at the expense of at-bats for the powerful Marcus Thames and young players Matt Joyce and Clete Thomas. Awesome. I think the seemingly off-the-cuff and reactionary decision making regarding Guillen this season served as a perfect microcosm of everything that went wrong with the Tigers this season. Grade: C+

Edgar Renteria: The most impressive aspect of Edgar Renteria's only season in Detroit was how much damage to the franchise in both the long and short term future he caused in just a single season. I can't think of an addition the Tigers have made in their recent history that was such a calamitous failure. Sure Doyle Alexander for John Smoltz is a ridiculously lopsided trade in hindsight, but without Alexander's addition to the '87 team there is no way the Tigers would have held off the Blue Jays for the Division crown. Juan Gonzalez was a disaster but aside from costing the Tigers the services of Francisco Cordero, Detroit didn't really lose much in that trade personnel wise and there were almost no expectations of success going into that 2000 season. However the swath of destruction Renteria caused during his tenure with the Tigers was genuinely remarkable. If someone held a gun to my head and asked my opinion on who was most responsible for this disappointing season, I would probably hand them my wallet and sob that I thought it was Edgar. I'm not tooting my own horn here but I was vehemently opposed to the Renteria deal as soon as it went down. I thought Jurrjens was very impressive during his short stint with the Tigers last season and I was intrigued by the speed and defense that Gorkys Hernandez flashed in the minors. I thought surrendering both in the same deal for an aging shortstop coming off a career year, who really wasn't as good as his reputation would lead one to believe in the first place, was a horrendous and short-sighted idea. I'd like to take this time to point out that Bill, who contributed a couple of posts for this site back in April before disappearing, wasn't as high on Jurrjens and compared him favorably to Kevin Ritz. This led to me justifiably beating him to death with a shoe and disposing his body in Buell Lake. Of course it took about a month to see that Renteria had aged a decade overnight as his range, arm and bat had slowed tremendously. My favorite Renteria moment was around the All-Star break when he had been in more DP's, than my friend TJ's mom.....wait I mean than he had extra base hits. Fantastic. Naturally Jurrjens had the best season by a rookie pitcher in the N.L. and drew raves from Bobby Cox, whereas the Tigers took about .00000273 seconds to decline Renteria's option after the season ended. So I'm issuing this warning to anyone who dares wear a Renteria jersey/T-shirt next year. I'm punching you in the back of the head. Unless your big, then I'll hit your wife instead. Grade: F

Marcus Thames: Ah yes another pre-season prediction of mine that came true. Before the season I prophesied that Thames would rise from the Pumpkin Patch Graveyard and smite the teenage boys who killed my son when they ran him over with their dirtbikes, only I would be cursed to take over Thames role as a vengeful spirit summoned by the weak of heart. Oh shit nevermind, that's the plot to the movie Pumpkinhead not what I predicted for Thames. Hang on let me check the archives here. Oh yes, I prophesied that Thames would hit 40 homeruns if he was given the chance to play everyday instead of getting jerked around by Leyland and losing at-bats to nobodies like Jacque Jones and Clete Thomas. For a bit it looked as though I might be right as Thames mashed homeruns in seemingly every at bat. Then the holes in his swing were exploited and his average and power totals plummeted. Now he appears to be on the outside looking in for at-bats in left next season. Grade: C

Matt Joyce: Pass. I was hoping that would sound intriguing and keep fans begging for my opinion on Matt Joyce's play this season, a la Bill James' comment regarding Jeff Bagwell in his Historical Abstract, but I've really got nothing. Good left handed power bat, good arm, glove, etc. Grade: B

Curtis Granderson: Granderson just keeps getting better and better and hopefully the Tigers can pick up a decent leadoff hitter that will allow Granderson to drop down in the order. Joe Posnanski wrote a pretty convincing argument on his blog that Grady Sizemore had outgrown his role as a leadoff hitter and it was actually detrimental for the Indians to play him in that spot, especially if it meant giving at bats to scrubs like Ben Francisco and Ryan Garko in the 3/4 holes. Now of course Tigers don't have a black hole like Francisco/Garko in the middle of their order but I think they would be much more potent if they had Granderson batting third. Of course this would raise the issue of who would become the Tigers new leadoff hitter. Personally I think Rafael Furcal, who I've always been a big fan of, would be perfect in that role and on this team in general as the everyday starting shortstop. Of course this seemed like a better idea before Furcal came back towards the end of the season and re-established himself as the catalyst for a World Series contending team. Apparently I have a thing for guys coming back from crippling back injuries as my endorsement for Crede and Furcal prove but the point I was trying to get at is the possiblity of signing Furcal on the cheap has probably vanished as his play of late will likely lead some team to dump millions of dollars and a long term deal in Furcal's lap and price him out of the Tigers off-season plans. Alas. Grade: A-

Magglio Ordonez: Ordonez is very similar to Polanco in the fact that you can just about pencil in his numbers every year and if he's healthy he'll be right around those totals when everything is said and done. Of course the intriguing story regarding Magglio is if the Tigers might unload him this off-season. If this question would have been raised after last season when Maggs put up arguably the best statistical season in a Tigers uniform since Hank Greenberg left, I would've reacted swiftly and violently with an assortment of roundhouse kicks and throat punches. Now I'm kind of open to the idea. Look, I love Magglio, he's been on my fantasy team for the past two seasons and I will be forever grateful for his efforts in turning my last place team into a sixth place one but with that said Magglio is probably the only tradeable player on this team. If the Tigers could get a decent return of young players back for Magglio or pair him with a terrible contract like Robertson's or Dontrelle's that would give them some payroll flexibility, I wouldn't be opposed to it. Especially given the abundance of corner outfield prospects in the organization, probably the only area in the organization where there is decent depth, and the fact that the DH spot will likely be occupied by a series of players over the next few seasons it only makes sense that the team would entertain offers for Ordonez if not actively shop him. Grade: A-

Gary Sheffield: I always try to write about abstract silliness on this website so I'm going to try my hand at a little topical humor with Sheffield. This year Sheffields stock took a bigger hit than a stock that lost a lot of money in this recent financial crisis. Huh....huh...anything? Hmm, maybe it didn't work because you can't see my bowtie spinning. Sheff was always one of my favorite players in baseball even before he came to Detroit and during the first half of last season he played superbly and I was enjoying it thoroughly. Then he got hurt and was ineffective before shutting it down entirely. After off-season surgery and a proclamation by Sheff that he was healthy and looking forward to crushing A.L. pitching as well as scaring the shit out of Gene Lamont in the 3rd base coaching box. Sheff started slowly and it looked like all the pop was zapped from his bat. Then he played in left after complaining about the DH role but apparently forgot to tell anyone that he couldn't throw a baseball which, and I don't know because I'm not a professional, seems like a pretty important part of the position. Next came a stint on the DL and it looked like Sheff was about finished. Except he was still a badass. Look I don't care if Sheff was hitting .220 he was still menacing as hell when he stood in batter's box with his bat waggling and his eyes burning holes into the pitcher. However once Fausto Carmona kicked his ass in the brawl against Cleveland towards the end of the season it was almost embarrasing for Sheff. It became readily apparent that he's just a shell of what he once was because five years ago he would have torn Carmona's left arm off and used it to hit a game winning homerun in the ninth inning. Instead he got thrown into a head lock and worked over by Carmona and a couple other Indians. Afterwards Sheff made some badass threatening comments but they seemed like empty threats. It was almost like watching an old heavyweight get beat down by a young up and comer like Ali-Holmes or something. I'm lying though because the thought just crossed my mind that there is a .0000001 chance Sheffield might read this and it made me shudder. He's still terrifying. Grade: C-

Jacque Jones: Let the record show, and yes their is a record because I've spent the last few years tirelessly training a group of monkeys chained to typewriters to transcribe everything I say while I'm alone in my apartment, (the ones that were less than proficient than necessary were transferred to the knife fighting and aviation departments with middling success) sure it's meant that I've had to wade around my apartment shin deep in feces and mango rinds not to mention the numerous eviction notices I've had to fight from narrow-minded landlords but its times like this that make it worth it, but I said shortly after the Tigers traded for Jones during the offseason that it was irresponsible of the team to hand over the starting left fielder job to a Frenchman. I'm not trying to be stereotypical but if Jacque would have spent half as much time in the batting cage as he did chain smoking, eating frog legs stuffed with cheese and trading beaver pelts with Native Americans outside Fort Pontchartrain he probably would've hit higher than the anemic .165/.244/.253 he put up in 24 games before being released. Grade: F

Ramon Santiago: Well it looks like Santiago may be the starting shortstop heading into next season, which is fine by me and honestly I think it came a season to late. Look I'm as much a fan of sabermetrics as the next blogger and the fact that Ozzie Smith was a first ballot HOF'er while Trammell can't even get 30% of the vote gives me night terrors that result in me waking up screaming "But Ozzie's career OPS was only .665", a habit which usually scares the hell out of the prostitute I hired as she's going through my wallet. But a part of me has always liked the idea of having a good field no-hit shortstop. It just seems so old school, like harking back to the days of when starting Ray Oyler more than 100 times in a season not only didn't get you fired, it didnt get you institutionalized either. Even with that being said Santiago proved in his limited playing time this season that he's not the overmatched easy-out he was back at the beginning of his career. As much as I would like the Tigers to roll the dice and sign someone like Rafael Furcal or trade for a J.J. Hardy it wouldn't kill me to see them roll the dice on a season of Ramon, while the organization waited for Cale Iorg to get ready. Grade: B+

Ryan Raburn: I've got nothing on Raburn, not that my analysis on any of the previous players was insightful to begin with but I've honestly got no opinion on Raburn's play this season. I don't think he's as good as he played in '07 or as bad as he played in '08 so I guess that means he falls somewhere in between with his ability. It would be nice to see him get some more consistent playing time as he is pretty versatile in the field and seems to have decent pop in his bat. Like I said though I've really got nothing and I'm speaking in generalties here which is kind of boring. I'm going to use this opportunity to write about something I've been thinking a lot about lately. The election. Wait, no that's stupid I mean Steven Seagal/Van Damme movies. Awhile back I was at a sushi restaurant with a friend. We filled out the little order form and gave it to the waitress but when our food arrived it was nothing that we had ordered. I complained in vain to the waitress that she had messed up the order but she denied responsibilty. The manager came over listened to our story and inexplicably absolved the waitress without any evidence that she was correct (Our order had conveniently disappeared from her pad) and said we could complain to the chef if we wanted. This seemed illogical because the chef wasn't the problem but I considered complaining just for the sake of getting what I had ordered. Then I remembered Under Siege, as well as countless other Seagal/Van Damme movies, where the seemingly most harmless and or mundane jobs could probably and in fact ARE likely to be filled by ex-CIA operatives/Navy SEALS/underground martial arts tournament champions or all three. So I said it wouldn't be necessary to involve the chef, made it be known I wouldn't eat their again and sucked it up and ate some disgusting spicy roll because I didnt want to get my arm broken at the elbow and thrown through a glass window over a simple misunderstanding. I think this is an important lesson to take from these movies, either that or I'm a non-confrontational vagina. Either one. Grade: C-

Jeff Larish: I think if I were a kid today Jeff Larish would be my favorite player on this team. I always have had a soft spot in my heart for guys with unusual batting stances, hence the obsession with Mickey Tettleton and to a lesser extent Tony Phillips. If you have little to no athletic ability, as I did growing up, it's almost necessary to adopt a gimmicky batting stance fashioned after your favorite player. That way even if you dont hit like a major leaguer at least you look like one. Larish's batting stance is distinct because it's so silent, absolutely no movement after he settles into the box before unleashing a vicious two handed swing at the ball. Seeing as how I'm remarkably lazy, I endorse anything that involves limited movement so Larish's batting stance appeals to me immediately. Honestly if I had my choice I would've preferred to bat in Little League while laying on my futon with a team of mules to pull me around the bases if I ever made contact. Maybe my son can fufill this dream for me. Grade: C+