And Venus Was Her Name

We have two choices for entertainment this evening: the Transit of Venus and the Tigers-Indians game. 

The next Transit of Venus happens in December 2117, when the Tigers will be picking up the pieces of another shattered season, while wondering which of their failed high-round draft picks won't be tendered a contract for 2118.

The Tribe is in town for three games; the next two nights and then a Thursday afternoon game.

My goddess has chosen the Transit. She somehow got her hands on a welder's mask, which she will use to watch Venus crawl across the sun's disk. "There's a little black spot on the sun today," sing the Police. We heard that on the radio today, during the Retro Lunch, of all the days to hear it.

She promised to come in and check on the game now and then. 

You might want to wear that mask while watching the Tigers play, I suggested. 

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What an ugly game of baseball. The mask was definitely needed. The Tribe scored three of their four runs on three triples off Drew Smyly. The Tigers got one in the first, one in the ninth, and did nothing in between. The newly arrived Michael Young struck out four times. The boos grew louder with each whiff, turning to cheers only when he fouled a ball into the seats in his last at bat. 

33,258 fans passed on the Transit to come out to Comerica and watch the Detroit Mud Hens. Your baseball blogger wonders if Detroit has the league's best fans, or its most desperate fans.