Tag Archives: tigers

A Starbucks and Rain-Related Rant

I can think of a few rare instances where a rain delay has ended well.  Zito in Detroit last season is one.  As CBS put it at the time, the Giant smashed the Tigers 15-3.  (Different Tigers than the ones who are dominating everything right now?  Yes.)  But except in the instances of really massive blowouts, I’m generally so disgruntled and stir-crazy and annoyed from all the waiting that the outcome is somewhat irrelevant.

We all knew the rain delay was coming today.  So I got my shoes on and as soon as they started rolling the tarps out, I left and got a coffee and went to the park and read my ridiculously sad book.  I came home with pretty much perfect timing.  Internal rain delay clock?  Why, yes, I do have that.  It was nice, except that I really need to start remembering that Starbucks doesn’t make Dark Roast in decaf, because the Medium Roast – the only one they do make in decaf – is unequivocally revolting.  Apologies to any Medium Roast lovers I may have just mortally offended.

Um, anyway.  Starbucks rant over.

My timing was pretty much perfect.  I got home and went back to watching.  Everything was perfect other than, you know, the game.  After all that rain and delay and jazz, the Giants lost very softly, by a final of 3-1.  There were just a lot of little mistakes on their part and they didn’t take advantage of the mistakes that the Cardinals made, either.  Hunter Pence definitely stood out and not in a good way.  He’s batting .161 in the postseason and is looking a bit like all of the Giants problems mashed into one.  Obviously no game or series is decided by one person and other people have struggled, but Pence’s are magnified at the moment.

It was not a pretty game.  And it was a darn long one, for being as not-pretty as it was.  Medium Roast is looking increasingly appealing after seeing that one finish up.

Just kidding, just kidding.  I choose losing Giants over bad coffee any day.  But here’s to some winning Giants, right?  It’s getting down to the wire but there’s still a good bit of baseball to be played.  Like everyone, I’d guess, I’m dying with curiosity about what Our Boy Timmy will do tomorrow.  A word about that nickname…

…and it’s anecdote time, because I tell a lot of anecdotes around this time of night.  Earlier this season, I was having dinner with a Red Sox fan and suddenly he was all, “How about your boy Timmy?”  Lincecum had just had particularly terrible start.  So I was sort of silent and then I said, “Yeah.  How about my boy Timmy.”   I got this fiercely protective feeling and that was pretty much the end of that.  Let it be known that Red Sox and Giants fans are not a match made in heaven.  ‘Member when the two teams did an All Star Game voting alliance? They were just misleading us.  Seriously.

Things will be better tomorrow.   And hopefully our Pagan Deity of choice will make it a little bit… drier.  Please, Thor/Zeuz/Celtic God Whose Name I Can’t Spell?  No rain?  Thanks.  You’re the best.  I’ll sacrifice some cupcakes to you.

Diamond Girl

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Champagne and Magical Games

It’s been over a full 24 hours now since the Giants won Game 5 of the NLDS and gave themselves a spot in the NLCS and I’m still kind of in a state of disbelief.  The odds were not in the Giants favor by any stretch of the imagination but they won it… they found a way to turn the series around and slowly kill all of their fans inside and make us love them with all our hearts all the same.

I’m still not sure what happened, exactly.  I think people had started writing their post-mortem wraps when the Giants left for Cinci.  Then, slowly but surely, something clicked.  A handful of torturous and mildly horrifying games later, there was champagne and another series and Hunter Pence is the greatest motivational speaker in the history of the universe.

The odds were ever in our favor, as it turned out.

And it was magical.  It didn’t feel terribly magical at the time, because I was writhing and biting my nails, but after they got that last out, I just made myself an Italian soda and just let it sink in.  By the end of tonight, there will be four teams left and the Giants are one of them.

The A’s are not, in other Bay Area news.  They got Verlandered last night – yes, Verlander is a verb now and it means, oops, you lose – and the Yankees were the Yankees and that was that.  Yankees-Giants World Series is pretty much what I dream about on long, cold offseason days so my fingers are solidly crossed.  As you can imagine, Giants-Tigers would also set us up, you know, to be Verlandered.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  First comes the NLCS and I cannot wait.

Popcorn and cupcakes.  Here we come.

Diamond Girl

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Luckily, I Was Listening to Enya When I Read the Roster News, Plus PREDICTIONS.

So I chose a kind of a weird time to go on vacation.  While some of the biggest decisions in recent Giants-fan memory were coming out, I was walking to and from the pool and kinda-sorta trying for a tan.  (No luck there.)   When I finally started catching up, I started looping my Enya and went to Twitter.  It’s probably a good thing I had the über-calming music going because, well, my jaw pretty much dropped at the initial 25 man news.  And just as I was picking it up off the floor, I read the Chris Stewart news.  I am still attempting to connect jaw to rest of head and it’s not working terribly well.  Whoa, whoa, whoa, for lack of a better way of putting it.  I did not see any of this coming, but I am happy with it, all around.  The Giants are looking pretty young and energized going into Opening Day and what else can you really ask for?  (Other than pre-steroid scandal Ryan Braun starting in left, but hey, you can’t have it all.)

I’m sad to see Chris Stewart go, because I was rather partial to him, but I am also always glad to see guys go the Yankees.  It feels like sending them to a family member’s house, rather than to a complete stranger, to use a slightly strange analogy.  That is my inner New Yorker speaking, don’t mind it.  So in many ways, I’m actually happy for Stewart and wish him safe travels with the Yankees.

Here is my happy waving GIF, because if you don’t laugh, you might cry.  Not that I cry about baseball trades.  Usually.  Let’s not talk Bengie Molina and I’ll be fine.  Don’t get between me and my catchers, people.  People being Brian Sabean.

And now!  I’m a couple hours late this year, but I’m going to do some predictions now.  I like to do them before the season kicks off, but just bear with me.  It’s not like the first few innings of a game give me any edge on the rest of you who predicted a few days ago, so!

 National League

East:  Philadelphia Phillies

Central:  St. Louis Cardinals

West:  San Francisco Giants

Wildcards:  Colorado Rockies, Cincinnati Reds

American League

East:  New York Yankees

Central:  Detroit Tigers

West:  Texas Rangers

Wildcards:   Tampa Bay Rays, Cleveland Indians

See?  No need to worry that I have an edge, prediction-wise.  I am so terrible with ‘em that the timing makes zero difference.  But now I have put them out there and can cringe over them for the next six months or so and it just wouldn’t be baseball season without that.  Have you all made predictions?  Put them (or a link to them) in the comments so we can commiserate/I can get completely jealous of your brilliance.  ‘K?  ‘K.

Happy Pappy Opening Day!

Ever-So-Slightly-Tanned Diamond Girl

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One Tough Act to Follow

(How cheesy is it to use an Eminem line when talking about a Detroit ballplayer?  Very cheesy indeed.)

Verlander.  One tough act to follow, no doubt about it.

Not only is he funny and sweet and humble, he also won 20+ games, went to the ALCS and then won the American League MVP today, backing up his Cy Young Award win last week.  First pitcher to do it since 1986.  (Cue the googly eyes.)

Whoa.  Whew.  And other expressions of surprise and admiration that begin with “W”.

Congratulations to Justin and the Tigers and the city of Detroit and Marshall Mathers, III, while we’re at it.  And Chrysler.  And Ford.  Actually, not Ford.  They make hideous cars.  Just Justin and the Tigers.

But can I just get all critical here, though, and suggest how mega-ly dramatic this all would have been a red carpet show?  I think I’ve said this before.  In fact, I’m sure I have.  But really, picture it.  Baseball players in wonderful silver suits and funny presenters- like, yes, myself- and major drama, camera-cutting-from-face-to-face as the announced the award winners.

Some crocodile tears wouldn’t be too bad either.

And hey, if you can get someone who happens to be Jennifer Lopez to wear a sparkly bodysuit and drive around in a weird car on stage?  That’s even better.

But why or why or why do the Rangers insist on Neftali starting and then put a knife to his back and make him pretend to like it (looking at you, Jon Daniels Knife Bearer)?  Speaking of drama.

Diamond Girl

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Clap-Clap-Clap

Verlander wins the Cy Young award unanimously!

Er, that is (bring in the friendly photo, pronto, please and thank you):

Ah, there we go!

No, seriously.  I’m happy for him.  Way happy for him.  Grinning-from-ear-to-ear-because-it-couldn’t-happen-to-a-better-guy-happy.   Congratulations, Justin.  You make me proud to have Detroit pride (oxymoron?  Maybe.).  And yeah, you’re kind of awesome yourself.

Keep it up, kiddo.

Diamond Girl

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