Saturday, June 03, 2006
Ah yes, the Red Sox/Tigers series. Time for me to defend both teams to the opposing fanbases. Time for me to root for the batter for one out and the pitcher for the next. Time for every single person I know asking me who I'm rooting for. Time for head asplodey.
Hadn't done a gameblog in a good long while, and this seemed like just the occasion for it, since due to exhaustion and insanity I haven't got anything particularly coherent to say about this series yet. Lucky, lucky you, readers.
Don and Remy are giving the Tigers a lot of props right before the game. There seems, initially, to be little or no attention paid to this latest series. Perhaps the last game you play is the defining one, in which case the Tigers should be all set…
CLOSED CAPTIONING PROVIDED BY FINAGLE A BAGEL.
Vance starting over Pudge. Well BE STILL MY HEART. *insert a thousand eye-rolling icons here*
Yes, Don and Remy, The Farns did in fact get his shapely ass whupped but good last night. I still kinda like the guy, but I have to say that I was hooting like an owl in joy.
Inge. Baby. Actually, I think that bobble was on Shelton’s end but, Coco on first. Inge scooped that shit backhanded and ended up soaring and throwing it from foul territory. C’mon AROUS. You gotta make those. I would stick in an obligatory "Carlos Pena woulda had that” note here, but no one, not even a fan of the dude like me, can honestly say that with any feeling anymore.
Ks Loretta. Christ, that was a fastball? Sunk like a damn curve it had so much movement.
Kenny Rogers has a jaw like a Tyrannosaurus. It’s not quite Bill Cowher territory (really, what is?), but it’s up there.
Siiiick DP on Papi with the mad shifty action to end the first. That may be the worst sentence I have ever written. Shelton snags it, throws to Inge at second, who throws back to AROUS at first, out out bang bang *dramatic blowing motion on ‘smoking’ finger guns*
Still seeing lots of empty seats at Comerica. C’mon Detroit. It’s a Friday night, you won big last night. Late-arriving crowd, hopefully.
Plonkers one-hops the wall in left. Manny looks so lost without a huge wall behind him. He needs the Monster there, it’s like a giant green safety blanket for him.
The River Thames hits a barely-liner down the third base line. It bounces around in the corner of the outfield and Manny sort of fails to handle it. Not an error, just not a sharp play. The kind of play where the ball is rolling slowly on the grass and Manny is trailing hopefully after it like a puppy after a butterfly. Plonkers scores, The River on second.
Obligatory 119-game-loss mention. Most in the AL, uh, ever. God, we shall always be so proud of that 2003 season. Not that it was particularly fun watching the Red Sox cough it up to EvilBoone that season either, but at least the run up to that point was tolerable.
Um, Maggs? I appreciate your hair. I do. But not when it’s all greasy and lank and tangly from being under a helmet. Because then, you just look like a child molester.
Wow, Curt elevates and busts Guillen up. He had no shot on that.
Uh. Manny Ks and is NOT happy about it. Yells at the ump and everything. Remy notes that he very rarely does that, which is true… Papi will whine about everything, it’s as much a part of his batting routine as the glove spit and clap, but Manny usually just sort of goes, “Oh well yay bubble gum in the dugout!” and skips on back. However, the final pitch didn’t look that bad to me. It MIGHT have been a tad low, which is what Manny was saying, but it looked just about knee high to me… at least, it was at his knees when it reached his front leg, in slow-mo it looks like it dropped down some behind that. Well. Sinkerball. Y’know?
And somehow, just like that, the inning is over.
I will never, not in a million million years, get over how incredibly deformed Chris Shelton appears to be. I think it might've been Amy who said something to me along the lines of “He looks like a bunch of recessive genes.” AROUS Ks. He needs to be more patient when he’s scuffling. And also, to never breed.
Craig’s gotten rid of the high socks for today’s game. He had them on yesterday, I guess his sucky performance inspired a change.
I missed the rest of this inning because I was showing my brother the photos I took of him before his prom. I assume Curt kicked some more ass.
My mother walks by the room. “Well, one of your teams is up.” She sounds very bitter. My mother is a Red Sox fan and does not, to be honest, give a shit about the Tigers. It’s my dad who’s from Michigan.
Youks wipes his eyes with his jersey and appears to go temporarily crosseyed. Hee. K.
Inge! Grabs it
over near the railing! Nothing too dramatic, but STILL. BRANDON FREAKIN’ INGE.
OH YES A CLOSEUP OF INGE HE IS SMILING YAY.
So. That was also a fast inning.
No, Papa Johns. Not everyone loves fajitas. I actually have a long-standing, deep-seated hatred for fajitas. Get them away from my pizza.
Vance Wilson. Woot woot. Where my Vance fangirls at, yo! I know you exist. I’ve seen it in action. A hawt Vance Wilson special right here, baby. Groundout 6-3.
Coco on Granderson: "He has pop for a [something, mumbling] small guy." The slightly wry, stupid grin he had while saying this made it even better.
Remy thinks he’s a work in progress ‘cause he isn’t great at stealing, and has a ton of Ks. Well. It’s not like he’s with an organization that discourages Ks or anything. The Oakland A’s this ain’t. (K)
God, they’re showing a closeup of the whale mural. I’m so ashamed.
The tape on Coco’s hands makes me want to huggle him and feed him cookies and keep him safe from harm. Singles. As he runs back to the bag he’s picking at it. DON’T PICK AT IT, COCO.
Coco steals second. I bet ten bucks if Pudge was behind the plate, he’s out. Also, CHRIST COCO THE FINGER DON’T DIVE FACE AND THEREFORE FINGERS FIRST ARGH ARGH ARGH.
ARod, we are informed, is not playing today because of a tummy virus. Awww. Pukey ARod. That’s what I say when my overweight Siamese cat, Izzy, has hairballs. I call him Pukey Cat. Overweight Siamese cat>ARod.
Big K of Papi, who swings through it like it’s invisible. The woman who runs the Mass Audubon bird banding station has a pet canary named Big Papi. A CANARY. Named BIG PAPI. For the record.
Manny singles to left, Coco comes around to score. This game is being very well-pitched.
The River, former Yankee. Figure Don and Remy to concentrate on that. Leave the poor guy alone! He didn’t mean it! (K)
The Tigers and Red Sox are tied at third for fewest stolen bases as a team. Immediately after this graphic is shown, Carlos steals second and Tek throws sort of halfassedly form his knees. At that point I'd rather Tek just hold onto the ball and show some studious catcher's indifference. If you haven't got a shot at throwing the guy out anyways, don't take a chance on the ball somehow shooting through the infield and into the outfield on an error.
AROUS grounds out. Hrm.
Inge faceplants on Lowell’s liner through the gap at third. Single. That was very sharply hit. Wasn’t he [Lowell] supposed to be hurt or something?
AROUS stabs the fuck out of a Youk liner to first. Great play. And he holds Lowell to first too.
Trotter’s helmet looks remarkably clean, for Trotter. I wonder if he got a new one recently and hasn’t let the tar accumulate enough yet.
My friend Jess just came over to watch the game. She wants to know who I root for when this series comes up. I say, eek.
Craig singles to left. Manny rolls over his own self to get it on the short backhand bounce to keep it from going to the wall. He looks beyond goofy when he does shit like that. I mean not only is he going head over ass, but his baggy clothes are flopping everywhere, as are his dreads, and half the time his hat falls off at some point.
Brandon Inge Can’t Bunt.
Also, K. 6 for Curt. OH NO A SHOT OF BRANDON INGE WITH HIS HELMET OFF IN THE DUGOUT LOOKING DOWN AND BEING SAD OH NOOOOO. This slump of his is really getting awful.
Andy Van Slyke needs to not grope Vance at first base, because that causes me to suffer Traumas.
Umpire conference. What? Are they debating whether or not Curtis got a piece of it? Um. OK then. Replay. Doesn’t look like Curtis got any of it. The ball doesn’t seem to change direction at all until it hits the dirt and is well past the head of his bat.
Plonkers singles in, um, Craig I think. Play at the plate but Tek was out in front of home and swept back too late, he was safe easy.
Dude. With two outs, no one on, Kenny Rogers DROPS DOWN. And it bounces in the dirt and is retarded. Never let us see this agian.
Vance goes out to talk to him a few pitches later and Rogers bursts out laughing. What I wouldn’t give to know what he said. Walks Papi.
Papi and AROUS laugh at first base. STOP BEING SO AWESOME RED SOX AND TIGERS I WILL LOVE YOU MORE AND THEN I WILL DIE.
Don and Remy mention the Michigan road construction. They got caught in it last time, I think, because it was all that pre-Superbowl crap and hoooey that was bad. It's still bad now, or at least it was when I left the state for the summer, but not quite as bad as it was.
Remy is still frightened by the Omen lower lefthand screen promo.
Wow. Manny does not like that call. Ks again, this time it looked more questionable than last time, but I’ll wait for replay if we get it. Manny though is FURIOUS. Chucks the helmet and bat (not at the ump, thankfully), starts yelling. He’s freakin' lucky he didn’t get tossed there.
OK, replay. Not close. Not close at all. Manny should be pissed.
Maggs singles. Dum te dum.
Maggs steals second. What is up with Tigers steals here? We just... don't. We are speedy like the Molinas are speedy. That's 'not at all', you know.
Nate and Verlander hanging out together on the rail. Poor Nate, his best buddy is on the DL getting bone chips dug out of his elbow right now.
Wow, great low grab by Gonzo to end the inning. I thought for sure that was in the dirt, but then again I am also freakin' exhausted.
Tek flies out for the 8 billionth time. It is all very sad.
Don and Remy are excited at the sight of Zoom warming up.
Kickass single for Lowell, almost takes Kenny’s head off, he flinches around like a Tasmanian devil cartoon. Mike Lowell. Why is he so fucking good?
Youk K. He’s unhappy. Again, a little low, a little inside, looked OK to me. He puts his hat and gloves away in the dugout and he’s still jawing.
Rogers is.. hurt? What? Back of the neck? What? Neck cramp?
And then he declared himself fine. Weirdness.
Riske in. Still the worst name for a relief pitcher ever.
Inge broken bat flyout to center. Yargh.
Granderson gives it a ride, but Coco hauls it in and that’s the inning. Aw. The Comerica outfield giveth and the Comerica outfield taketh away.
Zoom in. If he hits 100, Don and Remy may pee themselves. Remy says the crowd goes nuts when he hits 100, but come on now Remy, we know you do too. (although, admittedly, not as much as Rod Allen…)
“You could drive a truck through these dugouts.” –Don. Also, I swear they mention the huge dugouts every single time they come to Comerica. I think Remy may have actually been traumatized by the old titchy small Tigers Stadium dugouts.
Coco walks. I am tiiiiiiired.
EEEEEE. Papi gives it a RIDE, hoo ee, but he hits it mostly to center where it’s real deep, and Granderson comes running over from fuck knows where (way to the right in the shift probably) and makes an amazing running catch on the warning track. Papi is standing at home with his hands on his hips. He can’t complain. That was sheer awesome.
What the FUCK was that Yaris ad? With the spider gas nozzle thing? And the eating. And. The running over. And the noise it makes? And the splitting at the end. SERIOUSLY WHAT.
Seanez, ultimate fighting fan, in. His contract specifically forbids him from entering into the cage in the offseason, which I find awesome.
4-3 shoulda been on Carlos, Youk can’t handle it from Loretta and there’s men on 3 and 1, 2 outs.
Guillen takes second on a wild pitch that Tek knocks down, but not quite enough. I just don't understand this 'mobile on the basepaths' stuff. It's so foreign.
Jess and I are both falling asleep. It is not even 10 pm yet. We fail at being hip young adults. See, this is what comes of having jobs.
Oh god Rollercoaster Jones in.
Mike Lowell just keeps hitting.
And Rollercoaster Jones blows the save to a Youks homer. I called that. Not shocking, because probably everyone called it. Red Sox fans: he's kinda like Foulke, only right now even without the excuse of no knees.
NESN shows Paws’ reaction. He drops his deformed head into his giant motheaten hands. Awwww.
Trotter grounds to second and Plonkers boots it. E4. Oh my goodness.
All this is happening with 2 outs.
And then there were 3.
Jess and I agree on the awesomeness of the Quikrete commercial.
Papelbon in. Snow at first. Paaaaaaaapppppeeeeeeelllllllbbbboooooonnnnnn!
Cora makes an excellent fundamental snag and throw to 6-3 Inge. Looked like a basehit maybe but he made it look easy. Poor Inge, he just couldn’t catch a break if it ran him over in a Mac truck.
Pudge pinch hits for Vance. This gets the crowd excited again.
Papelbon, well, Papelbons Pudge on some vaguely high heat. Hotness.
I'll be watching tomorrow as much as I can, and I won't be seeing Sunday because it's an afternoon game and Sunday afternoon is my brother's graduation. Let us see how well my brain fares.
Labels: baseball, gameblog, MLB, Red Sox, Tigers