Results tagged ‘ Tigers ’

Feeling Giddy

He’s larger than life.  He’s estranged from his father.  He could possibly eat his body weight in donuts.  And he’s all ours!

Detroit has fallen in love with Prince Fielder and it seems like the feeling is mutual.  Me?  I couldn’t be happier.  One of the happiest memories of my childhood was watching Prince’s daddy crush a ball that flew out of old Tiger Stadium, right over me, my brother and my dad.  You don’t forget that kind of thing.  And now we can go relive it in Comerica Park with Prince doing the honors.  It just feels right.

At the same time, I’m a little worried.  The baseball world hasn’t been this giddy about the Tigers since 2008 when they were shoo-ins to win the World Series.  Shoo-ins, that is, until they ended up falling flat on their face right out of the gate.  This team is too good to fail but, well, if there’s anything we’ve learned in the past few years it’s that nothing is too anything to fail.

All that aside, I’m excited about 2012.  It’s an election year, the Lions should be even better next season and now the Tigers have made a move that in retrospect seems brilliant, even if no one saw it coming.  Verlander and Fister.  Prince and Miggy.  You can forgive me for feeling a little giddy.

-A

Tiger Blood

The coke-binged, wiry meme used as today’s title may not have the same ring to it as it did WAY back in 2011, but if you’re a fan of the Detroit variety, you know that Tiger blood is still in the streets.

Well, the South Florida streets anyway.

In case you’ve been distracted by the train wreck that is the Republican Party primary, Victor Martinez tore his ACL and will be out for the whole season, leaving my pessimistic and oft lugubrious colleague, Mr. Krause, as sad as sad can be (probably).

But not all hope is lost, Mr. Krause.  My team lost its ace pitcher prior to the ’11 season and we went out and won the whole damn thing.

Still, just in case Tigers fans are really feeling suicidal, let me remind you of some even bigger Tiger fails that make this one look minor in comparison:

For those of you who are still trying to forget the 2003 season actually happened, let me just remind you that Mike Maroth (above) went 9-21 that year with an ERA of 5.73.

See, life can ALWAYS be worse.  Like Mike Maroth worse.

Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

Have You Hugged Mr. Krause Today?

You should, ‘cuz today is Mr. Krause’s birthday!!!

In order to make Mr. Krause feel good on his birthday, I thought I’d post some images of things that would make him happy.  So I did a Google image search for “hot girl + Detroit Tigers”.  I got zilch (not surprised).  Instead, I offer these titillating images, each one sure to make him smile:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FRIEND!

JV Does CoCo

As a Tigers’ fan, I’m proud of Justin Verlander.  Not only did he carry his team into the playoffs, he also brought home the Cy Young and the MVP.  That’s a lot of hardware for one season and like him or not, the guy deserved it.

However, for all that he is (human cannon; Detroit’s great white hope; tiger-striped aphrodisiac) there are also things he is not.  For instance, he is not a comedian as we found out on Conan O’Brien the other evening.

Look, I love the guy and I’m glad he plays for us.  But, let’s face it.  He’s no Brian Wilson.

Of course, unlike Wilson, he’s also sane…..so there’s that.

-A

A Frozen Renaissance

I remember how excited I was when the Tigers beat the Yankees in the playoffs.  If you take the inverse of that, it’s about how I felt after the Lions lost last night.  The thing about Detroit and Detroit sports is that despite all this talk of a Detroit renaissance, it keeps falling a little short.

The Tigers made the playoffs and beat the Yankees in spectacular fashion but then barely showed up against the Rangers.  The Lions look nothing like the 0-16 laughing stock they used to be but after getting trounced by the Saints in the playoffs, they obviously have a ways to go.

No, the fact of the matter is that Detroit is still Detroit and, at this point, its best years are somewhere in the past.  In fact, it’s completely possible that this is the moment where Detroit peaked:

…but I sure hope not.

-A

A Christmas Wrap-Up (Part 2)

Continuing with the end-of-year holiday tradition here at RSBS, it’s time to separate myself from my imaginary girlfriend (NSFW) and ask the interns to lock my office door so I can get down to the meaty reflection of what was the RSBS year 2011.  Additionally, I must begin the sad, fiery purge of Albert Pujols memorabilia.  For those of you who went to public schools, you know that maintaining a fire within a small, confined room may cause ill-fated side effects, so before I start to look like Bert the chimney sweep, let me get to it…

First of all, no year would be a good year without you, the dear RSBS reader.  THANK YOU, for your readership.  THANK YOU for your emails, your tweets, your comments, Facebook shares and FingerTagging!  And THANK YOU for continuing to make writing about the baseball-politico world a treat for us every single day.

Like my riveting and oft rousing colleague, Mr. Krause, I too have been very impressed with our special correspondents.  For me, nothing says sweet Miggy-I-Love-You quite like Mark Piebenga’s His Game Is Like Waves.  It presented Miguel Cabrera in a new light — that of teacher, and, considering how much Mark has taught me about what life should be about, I continue to find its lesson fitting (and helpful!).

And though I often refer to Mr. Johanna Mahmud as “the man who introduced me to the glories of the Deftones” and “the guy who schooled me on the NBA and proved why I should be madly in love with Derek Rose”, I still have room to refer to him as “the guy who writes Setting the Mahmud“!  Dude puts the “tit” in titillating with every piece.  The last article he wrote was inspiring, if only because he found a way to get a naked Yu Darvish, an ugly sweater wearing Johnny Matt Damon and a crying Paula Deen all in one place; but, like Al, I have to admit that there’s real brilliance in his Theo-fied Arthurisms.  Still, I’m a sucker for equating dead people to the performances of Adam Dunn and Miguel Tejada.  Good work, good sir.

Meanwhile, no year-end applause would be complete without a nod to my longtime friend and confidant, Mr. Allen Krause.  Known for his cynical twists on the political establishment and undying love of all things Detroit Tigers, it has been a pleasure to write on his wing.  Sometimes he’s so “on” that he finds literary genius in imagery.  Indeed, that endearing Krausian wit is often highlighted by rational thought.  Sometimes it points out the un-fact-checked obvious, other times it gets serious, with a real call for responsibility.  And, just in case you think Mr. Krause’s Libertarian-bashing makes him a soulless, automated Obamatron, this reflective piece will convince you otherwise.

But when it comes to knockin’ ‘em outta the interwebs park, I have to kowtow to the RSBS Presents series.  The brainchild of Mr. Krause, RSBS Presents has enlightened us on the finer points of fandom and how to stay classy while reminding us that, ultimately, positivity has upside during times of turmoil.  But the best of them all was learning how to score a Republican.  And here I thought it involved finding Jesus and quoting Alex P. Keaton.

Happy Christmas, Merry Hanukkah and long live King Kwanzaa!

Jeff

A Christmas Wrap-Up (Part 1)

Every December we like to take a look back at what happened during the year in RSBS.  And with Christmas upon us and the annual RSBS holiday break about to take place, it’s that time of year again.  Granted, there’s no way we could do this without all the hard work put in by the interns so I want to take this opportunity to personally thank them and ask them to keep up all the good work next year.

Now, before I get to the part you’re all waiting for, I want to take a moment to recognize a couple other people without whom this blog would be a much sadder place.  The regulars probably know him best from his appearances on the podcast but for me, his occasional pieces really put into words what I wish I could express.  In particular, this year I appreciated Mark Piebanga’s midseason post about Don Kelly.  For me, it crystallized who the Tigers were at that point in the season.

Similarly, the brilliant ranting and raving of Johanna Mahmud always bring a mid-week smile to my face.  Whether he’s once again lamenting the shortcomings of the Cubs via musical theatre allusions or cautiously hoping for change with the arrival of Theo Epstein, Jo hits the nail on the head as often as not in a way only he can.  However, the edition of Setting the Mahmud that really did it for me was his takedown of the Red Sox in the key of Arthur.  Nothing says b*tchslap quite like setting your role model loose on the AL underperformer of the year.

For the main event, though, I thought long and hard about the season my co-author had.  I watched with amusement his two-part Libertarian “coming out” as he confessed his love for the still-feisty Ron Paul.  I also applauded along with everyone else as Jeff completed his first marathon, and this from a guy who, two years ago,  was out of breath after running a block.

But the real marathon was the baseball season and if you don’t believe me, just go back through the record.  It started in April with Franklin’s blown saves and four months later, Jeff had all but given up on the Cards (and totally given up on the Rays).  Just a few short weeks later, though, his dreams came true while attending his first World Series game and a few days later, that dream reached its apex as the Cardinals won the World Series.  But as happy as he may have been in that moment, and all joking aside, I don’t think any of us could possibly understand how hard the Albert Pujols news hit him.  Baseball, just like that marathon, has its extreme highs and lows.  In 2011 we watched Jeff live them both.

-A

Don’t forget our awesome Oakley Blender sunglasses give-away, made possible by our friends at Crown Royal!  If you would like to win these sweet shades, all you gotta do is send us a picture showing why you are RSBS’ biggest fan.  Email it to us at RSBSblog@gmail.com.  The winner will be announced this Saturday, December 24th.

I See What You Did There, White Sox Fan Girl

The Twittersphere is an oddly fantastic place.  It’s a lot like American Gladiators, you either get it or you’re like “Dude, wtf is this insanity?”

So whenever someone comes along and does something different, I have to give credit.

We have a new follower whose handle is @White_Sox_Fans

Of course, I assumed it’d be one of those generic, autoposting, borderline-spamming accounts that just pumped link after link of White Sox affiliated stuff.  But then I saw the profile picture!

That certainly doesn’t look like the stylized “SOX” or the ho-hum cursive “CHICAGO” script one would usually see associated with a White Sox themed Twitter feed.  I’m in!

And I also thought, Tigers fans could take the above hint and put sexy back into the grandest game on earth.  What do ya think?

Hate me ‘cuz it’s allowed, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

The RSBS Podcast, Episode 30: Pat Matheny’s Anesthesioxity and Other Stuff (LIKE HIGHLIGHTS!)

Click ME to Listen!!!

And so in this Podcast brought to you by Lifestyles

The RSBS crew celebrates its 30th episode by taking a stroll down podcast memory lane, remembering things that busted our (and hopefully your) guts.  AIDS salad and Ron Santo’s memory get rehashed while new memories (like gay ponies v. horsicorns, an iguana named Dudley and how you can cure your foot problems) are created!  Jump on board the RSBS crazy train!  No stops til you question how you spend your free time!

Don’t forget to getcho Crown Royal and enjoy some happy time!

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Subscribe to the RSBS Podcast by clicking *HERE*

Subscribe via iTunes by clicking *HERE*

*Special thanks to our PodMaster Keith Carmack. Follow Keith on on Twitter for all his movie magic updates and make sure to check out his crew and their hilariousness on the Undercast! podcast.

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Recorded Saturday, November 26, 2011

A Wire-Sized Hole in My Heart

I have watched a lot of television.  I won’t say that I’m an expert on what makes good TV but, like porn, I know it when I see it.  That probably helps explain why things just haven’t been the same since I finished Season 5 of The Wire.

Don’t get me wrong, there are still quality shows out there.  AMC’s raft of dramas – Mad Men, Breaking Bad and The Walking Dead – underscore this point and during their best moments, I sometimes forget about the Wire-hole in my heart.  But then I see this and it all comes rushing back again:

I think the only event that came close to invoking the same sentiments that the end of The Wire made me feel is when Curtis Granderson left the Tigers for the Yankees.    Sure, I didn’t know Granderson personally but it was like I had just lost a friend.  The only real difference is that although I’d still love to have Granderson back, it’s good The Wire ended when it did.  There’s something to be said for leaving them wanting more.

-A

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