catslash: (the crap?)
( Aug. 25th, 2007 03:15 am)
A Tigers/Yankees observation:

We are in the eleventh at quarter past three in a game that STARTED at eleven.

Fuck the HECK, you guys?!


That was totally worth being so tired I could puke. I love you Carlos.
catslash: (Justin)
( Jun. 12th, 2007 09:27 pm)

No. Fucking. Hitter. I would like to cordially invite all the people who went on about a sophomore slump to FUCKING SUCK IT.

I am just crazed. After Curt's game last week, I was amped to eleven. I spent much of the game playing Kingdom of Loathing and just listening to the Detroit broadcast. Until the top of the eighth, when I realized I didn't know how many hits the Brewers had gotten and went to go check.


It took me a minute to even register that. And man, I'm glad I hadn't noticed before, because I was instantly so nervous I thought I might throw up.

So I immediately went right the fuck back to playing KoL and listening. As IF I was going to change a single thing I was doing. Stopping to watch the game would have been DEATH.

And Rod and Mario! The Detroit announcers! I could kiss them both right on the mouth for keeping said mouths the fuck shut. They talked about Justin's Ks (twelve!! by the time the game was over) and THAT WAS IT. No dancing around the subject, and sure as shit no saying the fucking words. Professionals all the way. After listening to the Boston radio announcers jinx Curt to hell and back - god bless Rod and Mario.

And LOVE for Neifi Perez. He executed an outstanding play to start a doubleplay that just narrowly - by one step - prevented a hit in the eight. BLESS. I love you Neifi and shall defend you and your black hole bat of doom forthwith, because that no hitter dies in the eighth without you.

And the offense, especially crazy-ass Brandon Inge with his two RBI, for scoring enough runs to give everyone one less thing to worry about.

And JUSTIN! What do I even say? One hundred twelve pitches. Twelve Ks. Four walks (enough to keep from feeling cheated out of perfection). AND NO FUCKING HITS. Justin Verlander, you have been one of my favorite pitches since you came up. This was an amazing experience. Thank you. Now go get blasted on your teammates' nickels, kid. You've more than earned it.

Final score: 4-0 Tigers. And their first no hitter since 1984. And I am totally not misting up at all.
catslash: (tigers clinch)
( Jun. 9th, 2007 03:55 pm)

So much for getting anything done outside the house today.
catslash: (long day)
( May. 13th, 2007 11:37 pm)
Well. Two outta three dramatic ninth inning wins ain't bad.
catslash: (fucking fucks!)
( Apr. 13th, 2007 09:35 pm)
Hey, does everyone remember that game a couple years ago between the Tigers and the Red Sox where Nate Robertson was just killing the Red Sox, eighty-eight pitches through eight innings, striking out guys like Papi and Manny without breaking a sweat, the Tigers were cruising to an easy win - and Tram decided to bring Fernando Rodney in?

Yeah, why did that just happen again?

Okay, yes, vastly different situations - tenth inning versus the ninth, for starters, early in the season, not wanting to pile the innings on too soon, and okay, fine, I get it - but LEYLAND. Bondo's pitch count was FINE. And Fernando Rodney HATES US. And you had Jonesy warming before and oh dear god WHY have you driven me to advocate bringing JONESY into an extra-innings tied game? And Halladay came out for the tenth, dammit! And you do remember how we lost the division last year on the LAST DAY OF THE SEASON, right, so THEY ALL COUNT.

*deep breath*

Sorry, Smokey Jim. Most of that was probably residual anger from that other game. It still makes me angry and probably always will. (Yes, the Tigers did lose it. By a lot, as I recall. And this is against the RED SOX. Can you imagine how far the bits of my head would have flown if it had been a team I didn't like?) You are still my favorite manager.

(But Rodney?)
catslash: (not mad)
( Apr. 7th, 2007 02:30 pm)
I have decided what to do about the problem with that guy I can't stand being on my team. I will refer to him as the Nameless DH. I think this will allow me to survive his at bats without having a coronary, and to cheer his successes without agonizing conflict.

So - we are currently at 1-0 Tigers, thanks to a homerun from the Nameless DH! Yay!

Ugh, heartburn . . .

catslash: (what now?)
( Apr. 2nd, 2007 02:10 pm)

I appreciate your thoughtfulness in trying to spare me a Sheffield at bat by going all wonky as soon as he came to the plate, but I did not enjoy missing that RBI that put us on the board. I am going to have to deal with this Sheffield thing, and while it was sweet of you to think of me, your enabling my denial will not help me in the long run. I am simply going to have to find a way to watch the Tigers without stewing in bitterness and resentment every ninth at bat.

Maybe if I pretend it's someone else who happens to be named Gary Sheffield?
catslash: (fucking fucks!)
( Jan. 12th, 2007 11:08 pm)
I really thought that the passage of time would help me accept the fact that I am going to have to root for Gary Sheffield this year.


Let me share with you my top five list of hated baseball players, okay? IN THIS ORDER.

1. Aaron Boone. Because duh.
2. Albert Pujols. Bite me so hard for Game Five of the '05 NLCS, bitch. Too bad your team sucked though not as much as last year ogodwhy. I so enjoy the revelations that he is a total dick.
3. Alex Rodriguez. I know, I know, those of you who've known me for a couple years expect him to be higher. But unlike the two above, his obnoxious behavior really makes me laugh more than it pisses me off, so slot three it is.
4. GARY FUCKING SHEFFIELD AAAAAAH. He is an asshole with no class and no respect and I HATE THE CRAZY BAT. HATEHATEHATE. He is also creepy. He looks like a guy who would hit a woman, which I know is a tired and potentially wanky simile, but please. Look at that smirk and tell me it's not true. It may just be unfortunate physical characteristics, but I don't care. Hate.
5. Barry Bonds. Because it's kind of required to hate Barry Bonds at this point.

And really, I would actually prefer to have A-Rod end up on one of my teams. At least he doesn't actively give me the creeps.

So you can understand why I am still having a problem with this so long after the fact. Hey, Sheff, if you could bat .320 and hit forty homers and at least justify making my skin crawl every time I have to watch you bat, that would be real swell.

Also, I am going to start trying to post something every day. I have been neglecting my journal most appallingly and I've got to get back in the habit of posting.



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