Less-Than-Complete-Sports?

I was thinking about changing the name of this blog to Less-Than-Complete-Sports, since I had absolutely nothing to say about Tiger Woods winning the British Open (as Mr. Eno did) or Floyd Landis keeping the American victory streak alive at the Tour de France (Brian is suffering through cycling withdrawal).

But the Sweaty Men Endeavors legal team has advised me that Complete Sports might have something to say about that name change, and I'd be really bummed out if legal fees prevented me from maintaining my Netflix membership, so we're going to stick with what's been working.

While I deal with my anxiety over the White Sox possibly acquiring Alfonso Soriano, instead of the Tigers, here's what's in the thought jar today:

▪▪ Isn't it more likely that White Sox GM Kenny Williams is just hoping to raise the market for Soriano, hoping that the Tigers offer too much in a deal? (Joe Cowley of the Chicago Sun-Times says yes.) I don't think Dave Dombrowski plays that game.

▪▪ It's right there in print for me to read, so it must be true, but I'm having trouble believing that the Tigers now have a seven-and-a-half game lead over the aforementioned Pale Hosed Competition after last night's victory over Cleveland.

▪▪ One more White Sox thought: I've defended Ozzie Guillen before, but I'm having trouble maintaining that stance after watching him chew out Jon Garland for not hitting a Texas batter in retaliation for Vincente Padilla plunking Alex Cintron. Ozzie, by the way, doesn't think his behavior warrants a suspension. Imagine that.

▪▪ Something else I'm having trouble believing, despite actual evidence to prove it? The Indians are 23 1/2 games behind Detroit. And 12 games under .500. Chief Wahoo cannot be smiling over how fast that Tribe train derailed.

▪▪ I don't know what Harold Reynolds did to get fired from ESPN, but given the abruptness of the move, one's imagination can be left to wonder. If it's serious, then this is obviously a trivial remark, but Reynolds was the only ex-jock I liked on "Baseball Tonight." If this means we get more of "The Cowboy," Jeff Brantley (and we've already gotten way too much), I might have to wean myself off that show completely. And it's a daily fix for me.

▪▪ It was nice to see Michigan athletic director Bill Martin speak out on the need for renovations at Crisler Arena, but like Angelique Chengelis in today's Detroit News, I kind of doubt it will happen any time soon.

Such a project is probably low on the athletic department's priority list, and I'm not sure it would receive the same financial support that other renovations (Michigan Stadium, Fisher Stadium, Alumni Field) already have. Plus, I wonder how many people look at Crisler and think no more than cosmetic changes to boost the game-night atmosphere are necessary. But hey, renovations could probably be done in the upper bowl throughout the season without worrying about anyone getting hurt.

▪▪ Actually, I do have something to say about Tiger Woods' victory. As someone who lost his own father just over a year ago, I became very emotional as I watched Tiger break down into tears, knowing he couldn't share his latest triumph with his dad. As great as it's been to have some of my writing be published in Motor City Sports Magazine recently, it truly saddens me that my father isn't here to see it.

Take 'em out at the ballgame

If you're going to Comerica Park tonight to see the first-place Detroit Tigers take on the Oakland Athletics, make sure you check if the start time might be delayed.

See, the Tigers' groundskeepers might have to maintain the chalk outline near second base for a few more hours while investigations of a collision are still being conducted.

Did anybody get the license plate number on the truck that plowed over Tadahito Iguchi yesterday?

Eyewitnesses have reported seeing a "RVR TMS" or "THMS 33," but if you saw anything yourself and have information to offer, feel free to leave it in the comments section of this blog.

If Craig Monroe's grand slam on Wednesday showed the White Sox that the Tigers have arrived (and that A.J. Pierzynski's bull$#!+ mind games wouldn't work), Marcus Thames' take-out slide on Thursday signaled that they're in this pennant race to stay.

Dirty play? White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen, who's not known for keeping his opinions to himself, said no, calling it "a great play" and "the way baseball is supposed to be played."

According to Thames, Iguchi should blame his third baseman for getting laid out at second base.

"The third baseman hung him out to dry," he said to MLB.com's Jason Beck. "It was a bad feed from him. I don't want to hurt a guy, but I want him to know I'm coming in and trying to make sure he doesn't get off a good throw."

It wasn't just a defining moment, but a winning one, as well. Thames broke up a double-play opportunity, keeping the inning alive, and allowing Chris Shelton to bring in the go-ahead run with a double. Tigers manager Jim Leyland said it was "the difference in the ballgame."

Tigers 2, White Sox 1. And Detroit's lead in the AL Central is now 5 1/2 games. Even in Chicago, they're saying the Tigers are the better team right now.

With one mighty swing...

Had I posted yesterday, I would've made a joke about the Tigers suffering a power outage, like many other thousands (including me) in metro Detroit during Monday night's thunderstorms.

One run against Jon Garland? Ouch. That's enough to get a general manager on the phone to ask for Alfonso Soriano.

And last night, after Jeremy Bonderman gave up home runs to Joe Crede and Jose Uribe, while everything off the Detroit bats seemed to land in White Sox gloves, you might have been entitled to wonder just what the Tigers had to do to beat these guys. As Rod Allen said (dutifully transcribed by Big Al), the world champs were flexing their muscles. How would the challengers respond?

Do any of you guys watch Deadwood? Something similar happened in an episode two weeks ago. (Here's a blow-by-blow account from a guy with too much time on his hands.) There was a big brawl between the main villains' muscle men. But one was clearly more imposing than the other. Everyone expected the smaller guy to get pounded, if not killed. And once his face was being held underneath a puddle of mud, the outcome appeared certain. Even the smaller guy's boss was resigned to defeat, slumping with resignation and embarrassment.

But it didn't end there. He wasn't going down like that. So he fought his way out of the predicament, got back up to settle things, and (with the help of some dirty tactics) finally beat the man who looked unbeatable.

It's amazing what one swing of the bat can do, eh?

I went from slouching in my armchair to standing up and cheering, once Craig Monroe yanked a ball down the left-field line for a grand slam. (Is anyone else more impressed by a home run when it goes over Comerica Park's old left-field fence?) I imagine the fans at the ballpark were roused from their malaise a bit earlier, with the bases loaded and the possibility of something big about to occur.

And that's exactly what happened. From down and beaten to proud and still fighting. It was a triumphant moment, one that could make you believe that something bigger and better might be in store for this team.

Let me know if I'm overstating this. But hasn't it been happening all season? Just when you think these guys might finally fall back to not-ready-for-prime-time status, they show that they're not going down that easily. I know we've moved beyond the "bona fide" questions with the Tigers, but it's always nice to see some affirmation.

From there, Detroit's pitching was outstanding. Bonderman kept the White Sox in check until the eighth inning. And each of Jim Leyland's calls to the bullpen worked out beautifully, particularly bringing in Jamie Walker to face Jim Thome in the ninth.

Can the Tigers carry that winning feeling into this afternoon's rubber match? We'll see. But at least they know they won't be pushed around.

Throw 'em at the wall, and see what sticks

While sitting around, waiting for the gutters on my house to be replaced...

♦ Why talk about the John Smoltz-to-Detroit non-rumors when they've already been debunked, dismissed, and derided? Sure, why don't the Tigers make another trade with the Braves that they'd regret for 20 years?

Let's talk about a trade that did happen - not involving the Tigers, but what if it had?

When you saw that Joey Gathright was traded from Tampa Bay to Kansas City on Tuesday, did you think that was a deal the Tigers should've/could've made?

Granderson in left, Gathright in center - or vice versa - Maggs in right, and Thames at DH? Ooooh...

Or is Gathright another Nook Logan? Not the highest batting average and on-base percentage with that one. So probably not the ideal leadoff hitter I was envisioning. Que sera sera...

♦ I don't know if I'm in the minority on this, but I like Ozzie Guillen. Yes, he's obnoxious, insensitive, and thinks a bit too highly of himself. But I also think he's an entertaining alternative (I still laugh at how he summoned Bobby Jenks from the bullpen in last year's World Series) to what we often see and hear from baseball managers.

However, Guillen's latest gaffe makes it hard to defend him. Even if I think Jay Mariotti is an awful sportswriter and a repugnant TV personality who shouldn't have even addressed this in his own paper, this does nothing but make Guillen look like a prejudiced asshole.

♦ Is it far, far beyond a moot point now to look at what Dwyane Wade accomplished this season and not lament the following 12 words:

"With the 2nd pick in the 2003 NBA Draft, the Detroit Pistons select Darko Milicic."

I know, I know. Who knew he'd be that good? Other teams passed on him, too. But I'm not sure I'll ever get over it.

♦ Are we already at the point where we're looking for "the next Dwyane Wade"? Don't do that to those kids (Shannon Brown?!?), Chad Ford.

♦ I used to think Greg Cote of the Miami Herald was a decent sportswriter. After reading this, this, and this, however, I'll probably be changing that opinion. It's $#!+ like this that gives journalism a bad name and makes me think about how I idolized sportswriters as a kid.

♦ I hate to admit this, but I probably watched the NBA Finals for all of 30 minutes. I thought I was a bigger basketball fan than that. Sore feelings over the Pistons losing to the Heat? Maybe. Dreading Bill Simmons' prediction that a Miami championship could signal a return to the "everybody clear out while the superstar runs an isolation play" NBA? Possibly. A general disdain of Alonzo Mourning, Udonis Haslem, and Pat Riley? Surely. Burnout from watching so much basketball over the past four years? Likely.

♦ On the other hand, I think I'll be watching tonight's Twins-Astros game. (Thanks, ESPN.) It might be difficult to keep my eyes focused on the TV while kicking myself for cutting Francisco Liriano from my fantasy baseball team earlier in the season, but I've been hearing a lot about this Clemens kid.

♦ I can't believe I even attempted to make that joke. Thought I was better than that.

Okay, I just heard a loud crash in the driveway. That can't be good.

Like candles in my wind

While gratuitously mentioning that today is my birthday, I leave you with some random thoughts before mapping out where I can find free birthday food and drink to stuff into my face throughout the day (just like my favorite former sports columnist, Mitch Albom). Think of each thought as a candle on a cake (except if I typed a thought for every year of my life, you'd have a hell of a lot to read).

♦ For the Tigers' sake, it's a good thing women can only give birth once every nine months. Detroit needs Juan Uribe to get back in the White Sox lineup. What if the birth of his son is the determining factor in the AL Central race this season?

♦ So let's think about this: If Alex Cintron (whose name makes me think of vodka) and the Tigers' bullpen entered Thunderdome ("Two men enter, one man leaves!" Or would it be three men in this case? Whatever.), Cintron would be the one walking out victoriously to accept our finest meats and cheeses, and hear the lamentations of our women. How did that happen? Dude is a Tigers killer. Two nights in a row! He owns the Detroit bullpen.

♦ And for those of you who read both of my blogs (thank you if you do), yes, that's the second time this week I've used that movie reference. Hey, it's a good one. Even if I haphazardly slapdashed it with another movie reference in the previous thought. Did I mention it was my birthday today?

♦ As soon as I read that the Tigers drafted Ronnie Bourquin of (the) Ohio State (university) on Tuesday, I wondered what Mr. Big Ten Hardball, Brian, thought of the pick (along with the other players Detroit selected. Now I know, thanks to Beyond Boxscores. (The man has two blogs. Stay with me.)

♦ Speaking of the baseball draft, have you heard about Future Draft Day Legend Brandon Morrow yet? Somebody get this kid a Bluetooth headset.

♦ Would I lose your respect as a sports fan tomorrow morning if I opted to watch Season 2 of Rescue Me, rather than Game 1 of the NBA Finals? I watched the first disc of the DVD set last night and am totally hooked. Tommy Gavin is the man.

♦ The Chicago Sun-Times echoed a thought that occurred to me when this Jason Grimsley news hit the fan: Isn't Grimsley the same guy who swapped out Albert Belle's corked bat after he'd been busted for using it? Trouble seems to find this guy like batting gloves to pine tar. (Grimsley's affidavit can be found here, via Deadspin.)

♦ Remember the days when everyone assumed it was only hitters who took steroids and other performance-enhancing drugs?

Carry on with your bad selves. And, as always, thank you very much for stopping by. Barring a forehead-crushing hangover, I'll be back tomorrow.

Today's note for the Tigers

Dear Detroit Tigers pitchers,

Just a thought, but maybe you shouldn't give Jim Thome anything to hit today.

Okay, I understand - you need to see if the kid can blow Thome away with his cheese. But just one at-bat. And only if the bases are empty.

Dude is killing us. Just in case you didn't know.

You're still my guys. Who's my Tiger? All of you.

But try something new. Let somebody else beat you today.

Sincerely,
Ian D. Casselberry

Learning from the enemy?

Today's Chicago Sun-Times has a brief item in its White Sox notebook about Paul Konerko's familiarity with Tigers hitting coach Don Slaught.

If you didn't already know, Slaught's company, RightView Pro, provides instructional software, graphics, and video technology to personal trainers, amateur and professional coaches, and major league ballplayers throughout the country. (Here's a Detroit News feature on Slaught from last December.)

White Sox hitting coach Greg Walker is a big believer in Slaught's instructional techniques (lending his endorsement on the RightView Pro front page), and recommended Konerko talk to Slaught a couple of years ago when he was struggling with his swing.

But the Tigers' performance with the bats so far this season might be the best testimonial to Slaught's tutelage. You already knew they were swinging some heavy lumber in their first six games, but Tiger Tales compared the Tigers with the rest of the American League yesterday, confirming just how impressive they've been: First in runs scored, home runs, slugging, and OPS, and third in batting average.

Think we'll get a game in this afternoon? Clouds are rumbling, lightning's flashing, and the skies are looking dark and gray here in southeastern Michigan.

I have thoughts! ... On baseball

♦ I have to admit, I thought the Houston Astros were done after Albert Pujols' amazing ninth-inning three-run homer Monday night. How many postseason series have turned on a moment like that? A few immediately came to my mind. Kirk Gibson's home run against Oakland essentially decided the 1988 World Series. What about Boston's Dave Henderson against California's Donnie Moore in the '86 playoffs? Or the Yankees' Jim Leyritz against Atlanta in the 1996 World Series? Each of those series looked like they were going one way, and then BOOM! Pujols' home run looked like one of those moments to me. The Astros would surely crumble after letting a victory get away like that, right? Ah, what do I know?

♦ I'm struggling over who to root for in the World Series. Usually, I can find some reason, any reason to decide between two teams I don't really care about. (If not, I suppose I just don't watch. But I always watch.) Normally, the Astros would be a cinch. That franchise has never even been to the World Series, let alone won it. Yet it's been so long since the White Sox were there (1917) that it may as well be never, too. So I need to come up with some reasons before Saturday night. Let's see if I can work it out.

▪ ▪ Phil Garner. Former Tigers manager, and someone whose reputation was wrongly tainted after being screwed over when Mike Ilitch decided to cut payroll. Rooting point: Astros.

▪ ▪ The Cubs. I hate the Cubs. I hate Cubs fans, many of whom I had to listen to for two years in Iowa City - which is 200 miles away from Chicago. (You pick the nearest team when you're far away from everything, I guess. And the University of Iowa has a ton of students from suburban Chicago.) So I'd love to see Chicago's stepchild baseball team win, just to make it that much more painful for Cubs fans. Rooting point: White Sox.

▪ ▪ Richard Justice. Maybe my favorite current sports columnist. I read his blog faithfully. I love it - love it - when he's a guest on PTI. And I would love to see him get to write about a World Series champion. Plus, he has a superhero name. Rooting point: Astros.

▪ ▪ Ozzie Guillen. Okay, he might be batshit crazy. And he never shuts up. But you never hear "We just have to play hard and win one game at a time" from him. At one point this season, when it looked like the White Sox might lose the AL Central to the Indians, he said "We really flat-out stink." C'mon, how many managers do that? Don't you want to see this guy in the biggest of postseason spotlights? Rooting point: White Sox.

▪ ▪ Jay Mariotti. I don't get it. I don't get how this guy is such a darling at ESPN. His voice makes my temples throb, his inane observations make my teeth grind. And he picks fights with play-by-play announcers (though after hearing one more "Put it on the board... YES!" from Ken Harrelson, I'd like to clock him too.) I'd hate to see this guy get to write about a World Series champion, or boast about it on TV. Rooting point: Astros.

▪ ▪ Ken Harrelson. See above. He's already insufferable. Does anyone have more gimmicks (the White Sox are always "the good guys," if an opponent strikes out, "he gone!") in his announcing repertoire? Imagine how he'd be if he were calling play-by-play for a defending World Series champion. Rooting point: Astros.

Okay, that's Astros 4, White Sox 2. And I didn't even mention Craig Biggio or Jeff Bagwell finally getting a chance at a championship. No tie-breaker necessary. Looks like I'm rooting for the Astros. Glad I could work that out.

But let me warn you, Houston: I could be persuaded to go the other way if I see any more headlines paraphrasing "Houston, we have a problem." "Houston, we have a pennant"? Stop it. You had your moment. But stop it. Right now. Enough, already.

♦ Last night's loss meant the St. Louis Cardinals played their last game in Busch Stadium. And I'm glad I got to see a game at the old Busch before the Cardinals move into the new one. It was last June, the Cards were playing the Reds on a Saturday night (with Ken Griffey, Jr. one home run away from 500), and I was in the bleachers. This photo by J.B. Forbes of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch isn't an exact match to my view that day, but it's pretty close. And with a pair of binoculars, it was like watching the game on TV when I saw Jim Edmonds and Albert Pujols hit home runs. (Griffey didn't get #500 that night.) How much better could it be for a first-time visitor to Busch Stadium?

I was hooked as soon as I walked into the ballpark and saw those arches lining the outer ring of the stadium. And almost immediately, I understood why St. Louis is considered one of the best, if not the best, baseball cities in the country. I've never been to Fenway Park (which I hope to remedy within the next year or two), and I was only a kid when I visited Wrigley Field, so my memory's a bit hazy. Busch Stadium doesn't have any bars and restaurants surrounding it, so that part of the ballpark experience is lacking. But I can't imagine a more exciting atmosphere anywhere else.

Everyone was wearing red on the way to the ballpark. (And yes, the Cards were playing the Reds, but I didn't see any Reds t-shirts, bucko.) And they were all excited about the game. The closest comparison I can make is to a college football game. I've never seen anything like that at a baseball game. ("Atmosphere" surrounding Comerica Park usually means "traffic.") And those fans were there to watch the game. "How's Scotty [Rolen] gonna do tonight?" "Pujols hits Acevedo well." "Who's catching tonight?" I was in awe of "Cardinal Nation" that night. And they'll make the new Busch Stadium just as special as the old one. Knowing how much the Cardinals mean to those fans makes me a little sad when they lose in the postseason.

♦ One more thought on the Cardinals: Tony LaRussa - brilliant manager or seriously overrated? I haven't seen that column yet, but I'm sure it's coming. With all the good teams this guy has had, he only has one World Series championship to show for it. And several of those didn't even make it to the World Series. Does LaRussa do something wrong during the postseason or is this an indication of how unpredictable baseball can be?

Okay, I'm paying attention now

Anybody get the license plate number on the truck that hit the Boston Red Sox? Several reports placed a man with a grey #14 jersey at the scene.

Wow. Just when I decide to devote more attention to the baseball playoffs, the defending World Series champions are gone. No Yankees-Red Sox postseason drama this year. (Hey, it's not looking so good for the Yankees either.) And I really enjoyed those two teams going at each other the last two years.

Enthusiasm for baseball had been sucked out of me by the choke-and-sputter finish to the Tigers' season. So when the playoffs started, I was only checking the scores, not watching the games. But when the Red Sox fell behind 2-0 in their series with the White Sox, I sat up and took notice.

And now, I'm definitely pulled back in, because there won't be a repeat World Series winner. A new team is going to win the championship. (Okay, if the Yankees win, I won't consider that new. But see above.) Exciting, yes. Yet I'm not sure it'll be as fun to watch.

There are approximately 4,832 Red Sox blogs on the internet, so if you just stretch out your arms and wave around, you're bound to catch one. But if you'd prefer a guiding hand, I'll steer you toward a few of my favorites.

As I write this, Sam at Blue Cats and Red Sox hasn't gotten around to writing about this yet. Either because she's still shocked, she's been wiped out from a week of exams, or more than likely, some combination of the two. But check back, because she'll surely have something to say. Surviving Grady doesn't have much to say on last night's game yet, but he definitely saw the end coming and has been working on concession speeches. Nothing from Cursed to First either. But hey, it's early on a Saturday morning. Normal people are still sleeping. Thoughts are still being formed.

I wouldn't call myself a Red Sox fan, per se, but I've been following them over the past few years, and they were definitely my team of choice these last two postseasons. I envied Red Sox fans' passion for their team and for baseball, something that's been sorely lacking in Detroit for the past decade. I wanted to see their devotion finally rewarded.

And if it weren't for the Red Sox winning last year's World Series, I might have never started blogging. Their curse-breaking victory certainly inspired me. So I owe them some gratitude, even if exposing my narcissism to you was probably inevitable. Once again, I tip my cap to the Red Sox and their fans. There's always next year, right? And we can still root against the Yankees.

(Image by Nuccio DiNuzzo/Chicago Tribune)