At six in the morning, every morning. Fourteen above zero, one week into spring, and there they still are. They must think the whole bloody world wants to hear them sing at that hour, especially those of us who have been up all night and are trying to sleep.
I can't wait until it's so warm that the windows must be opened to avoid suffocation.
The last cuts have been made and, as usual, the last cuts are the deepest. Players who came this close -- I'm holding up my thumb and index finger a half inch apart -- to making major league rosters will instead start the season in the minors.
Fu-Te Ni, Robbie Weinhardt, Scott Sizemore, Danny Worth, and Clete Thomas will all start the season in Toledo.
All have spent part of at least one season with the Tigers. That fact separates this year's opening day roster from those past, on which the Tigers more resembled the Detroit Mud Hens.
The Tiger talent pool is now so deep that there isn't room at the major league level for players who have proved that they belong there.
There prevails in Motown cause for real optimism this last week in March; that the Tigers will prevail in the expected three-team AL Central tussle between themselves, the Twins, and the White Sox.
Opening day is this Friday in New York. Parkas and mittens will be the order of the day. The voice of the turtle has still not been heard in our land. He is still under ice in the frozen pond, waiting for the call from Mme. Nature to play ball.
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