First, we sleepily watched as the Indians scraped by with a walk-off HBP that ended at 2 a.m. after 14 innings, a 2-hour rain delay, and nonexistent hitting. Next, our eyes bled as Rick Porcello was used and abused in an extremely lopsided 10-3 loss. Finally, only by the grace of the Baseball Gods and the freakish powers of Verlander were our boys able to crawl out of Cleveland with a win.
It was weird, confusing baseball for the whole series. Our Tigers did not look like the Tigers who had taken the previous two series from KC and Texas. Something was amiss.
Just what was amiss? Take a look after the jump...
These are the questions that haunt us:
What could have possibly sapped the Tiger bats of all their power?
Why were Cleveland defenders robbing Tigers hitters all series?
When did Jim Leyland decide it was wise to start Don Kelly at 3rd instead of Wilson Betemit?
What the hell was going on with Ricky's pitching?
Why couldn't the Tigers knock in runners in scoring position to save their lives?
Who in the world was that psycho girl dancing behind the plate on Tuesday?
Why are Cleveland fans so rude/ugly?
We're sure these questions are bothering you as much as they're bothering us. So, we will attempt to answer them in the most realistic and mature way possible:
Progressive Field is a swirling mass of depressing, soul-sucking doom, that much is abundantly clear to us.
Keeping this small fact in mind, it is not hard to see why Tigers hitters would struggle so mightily. Who could possibly concentrate with drunken, fat, evil Indian fans screaming racial slurs and holding up rude, stupid signs about Miguel Cabrera drunk-driving? Guess who else drunk-drove, dumbasses?!? Sin-Soo Choo. These "fans" need to get a little more wise before they go spouting off about a players off-the-field habits.
Plus, how could they boo Juh-honny Peralta after all his years of
Also--does anyone know who that crazy dancing chick was on Tuesday? While watching the game, all one could see was the pitcher, catcher, hitter, umpire, and the Crazy Dancing Chick. She alternated between doing weird pirouette-like turns to texting to hanging off the wall to jumping jacks to texting to straight up acting like a lunatic. There were many speculations, but we have a theory on what she was doing: witchcraft. She was obviously out of her mind (Megan's thoughts: Is she mentally impaired? No, seriously?) and our boys ended up losing, so we're probably right.
And the players. We haven't seen grown men bitch and moan this much since the FIFA World Cup last year. All those strikeouts you complained about, gentlemen? They were legit strikeouts. Shelley Duncan and Travis Hafner, two of the most thuggish-looking players on Cleveland's roster, both jawed off and death stared the ump over strikeout pitches that were right down the middle of the plate. Even Rod and Mario scoffed at their idiocy. When Rod Allen is able to look down on you, you know there is something wrong.
We're not going to pull cheap shots about the city or their lack of titles, but honestly. There must be some kind of evil wicked voodoo magic at work in Cleveland, re-injuring our players (Brennan Boesch) and causing others to completely lose control (Rick Porcello).
In the end, the Tigers have to do a better job against the Indians, plain and simple. And this opportunity will come next week! So for the time being, we'll just attribute our woes to Cleveland/Progressive Field's unholy powers, and hope that our boys will kick some Tribe ass at Comerica.