Good Fortune Smiles On THEIR Team Again

This game, in its early stages of development, became a sort of foot race, between the Pretenders' fragile 1-0 lead, the rain, (hurry up!), the tarp, and the fifth inning.

The 1-0 lead was first to go.The Red Sox peckitty-pecked four off JV in the fourth inning. Now that the Pretenders have adopted a revised approach that de-emphasizes the scoring of runs, this wasn't a good sign.

The fifth inning won. Actually, it rained cats and dogs for about three innings, but in the sixth, with the P's up and the bases loaded, THEN they pull the plug on the game. (And NO official protest.) Out came the TARP (Troubled Athleticevent Recovery Program). When it rains, it pours; truer words were never spoken and they applied again tonight. In the record book, it goes as a rain-shortened 4-1 loss. 

The loss leaves the Pretenders 2.5 out in the Central, and 2.5 back in the Bridesmaid standings, where the A's and Orioles are tied. There exists another baseball state of being, called Look Out Below, for teams who are sliding backwards from Wonderfulness and out of Bridesmaid, headed back downhill to Official Mediocrity.

From Bad To Verse

The Tigers, in Boston becoss

It's time to show the Red Sox who's boss

Austin Jackson went deep

His mates went to sleep

Which got them a seven-three loss

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The Pretenders' effort was as bad as that bit of poetry. They did take a 1-0 lead on Jackson's homer leading off the game, but the Sox peckitty-pecked their way back in the game (peckitty-pecking being an effective way to overcome an early deficit) and put it away via Will Middlebrooks' two run homer in the eighth.

Max Scherzer wasn't sharp (seven hits, five runs in six-plus), but added to his already baffling season totals by striking out nine.

Peralta And Fister, And You Know Who

Jhonny Peralta, 0 for his last 17, homered twice to drive in all four Tiger runs.  Doug Fister quieted the major leagues' top offense, holding the Jays to one run on seven hits over eight. Another fine start by the tall right-hander, and exactly when the Tigers needed it; to end a three game losing streak and send them to Boss Town on a positive note. 

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Speaking of the Red Stockings, and Monday the 30th: unless Rugburn goes 4 for 4 tomorrow night, I LOSE Maggie's R Off The Interstate pool. A double for four today leaves him on I-73, and the promised and much anticipated Raburn late-season outburst now resembles a mirage shimmering in the summer heat. 

 

Sanchez's Debut (Boom! Boom! Boom!)

Those booms are the sounds made by this afternoon's three Blue Jay home runs, struck by Edwin Encarnacion, Yuniel Escobar, Colby Rasmus.

Two were solo shots, and that's not necessarily bad. There are pitchers in the Hall of Fame who gave up loads of solo home runs. Your guys have to score, and the Tigers, in the past 72 hours, have gone from Wonderfulness to playing a tepid brand of ball in which touching home plate is considered an afterthought. 

They dented the dish once today, on a Boesch double, the only extra base hit of five Henderson Alvarez allowed.

The three losses leave the Pretenders two games out, pending the outcome of tonight's White Sox game in Arlington.

 

Triples

Omar Vizquel isn't the oldest major league player to hit a triple. 

That guy is Nick Altrock (Alt Rock for the younger fans), born September 24 1876,  who, in 1924 for the Senators at age 48, on the season's last day, tripled in his only AB of the year. He thus finished with a batting average of 1.000, slugging percentage of 3.000, and OPS of 4.000.

Vizquel, whose triple was the second hit by the Jays in tonight's seventh inning, was born March 24 1967, making him two years and six months younger than Alt Rock.

He tripled in Brett Lawrie, born January 18 1990, during the winter following Vizquel's first major league season.

The damage had already been done, however, off Rick Porcello in a mess of a 36 pitch fourth inning punctuated by Jeff Mathis' bases-clearing double. 

Porcello's line -- five runs on six hits in six innings -- spoke for his entire season. Great one day, awful the next.

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Nick Alt Rock died on the same day as Alan Freed, January 20 1965, which is also the day Lyndon Johnson was sworn in for his only full term as president. Back when I still cared about things like presidents taking the oath of office.

What Happened In The Seventh Inning?

With the Tigers up 3-1 and Verlander cruising, Miguel Cabrera ended the top half by grounding into a double play. 

Carlos Santana and Travis Hafner led off the bottom halfwith solo homers. JV, who usually gets better deeper into games, allowed two more runs before retiring the Tribe.

The P Boys, Pestano and Perez, posted zeroes in the eighth, and ninth, to respectively record their 29th hold and save.

With the White Sox idle, the Tigers fall a half game out of first, having the same number of wins (53) but one more loss (46) than the Pale Hose.

Scherzer Prevails

After a 30 pitch third inning in which he allowed two runs, Max Scherzer righted himself and pitched the Tigers to a 5-3 win in Cleveland. 

Tiger hitters built an early three run lead, together, off Derek Lowe. It should have been more. Lowe walked the first three in the third, but escaped with only one run scored.

Travis Hafner homered in the ninth? That's how the last Tribe run scored? Fernando Shut 'Em Down must have re-assumed the closer's role. A check of the box score confirmed that it was, indeed, him.

It's Tribe Time Now

Your blogger knew the final score wasn't going to be 2-0 Indians, and in the seventh, Miguel Cabrera proved him right. With QB on, Miggy hit one deep into straightaway center at Progressive Yards, awaaaaaaaaay back, GAWN! Tie game! 

In the bottom seventh, Travis Hafner hit one in the same general direction, and choogled all the way to third. Aaron Cunningham squeezed him in to give the Tribe a 3-2 lead. 

Vinnie Pestano and Chris Perez, among the best in baseball at shutting teams down in the eighth, and ninth, innings, did so again. Hold number 28 for Pestano, save number 28 for Perez. 

Doug Fister pitched well enough to win, but Ubaldo Jiminez was better. The Indians ace, lately rocked, blanked the Tigers for six innings and got his ERA under five, to 4.97. 

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This is the era of specialization, and the acquisition of Omar Infante means Rugburn has at last found his niche: playing left field against left-handed pitchers. And, when Andy Dirks comes back (get well soon, Andy!), that limited role will be gone. 

I have July 30, next Monday at Boston, in Maggie's Rugburn Off The Interstate pool and, with the limited playing time Infante's acquisition also signals, I ain't gonna win it. The contest may in fact have no winner, and my queen would then have to give everyone their money back. 

And guess what else? Speaking of reviled Tigers ... Oakland swept the Yankees and beat Toronto tonight, are at this moment tied for the AL wild card (depending on what the Angels do), Hinge could end up in post-season playing against us, and wouldn't that be a kick in the head?

Anibal The Cannibal / Ichiro Traded

On this Monday off-day, the Tigers acquired starting pitcher Anibal Sanchez, and re-acquired second baseman Omar Infante, from the Miami Marlins in exchange for Jacob Turner, catching prospect Rob Brantly, and pitcher Brian Flynn. 

Sanchez fills the need for a fifth starter, and is a free agent after this season. 

Infante fills an even bigger need, for a regular second baseman. He used to play for us. Was sent to the Cubs for the unreliable Jacque Jones after 2007, and almost won a batting title with the Braves. They never shoulda traded him, but Your Baseball Blogger will walk au naturel down the beach at high noon next Sunday if anyone with the Tigers admits the deal was a mistake. His arrival puts an end to the mix and match at second base, and (yes ... please?) sends Rugburn to at least the bench.

Flynn is a lefty who had pitched for Lakeland before a recent promotion to AA Erie. He's the hardest kind of unproven prospect to evaluate: a young pitcher. 

The Tigers are well-stocked behind the dish, with Brian Holaday, last year's number one draft pick James McCann, and Skipper Leyland's son Patrick in the minors. They must all be good, because catcher is the hardest position to fill, and Brantly was expected to make the big club someday.

Jacob Turner will be a good major league starter for someone other than the Tigers, with whom he played at the wrong (or maybe right, for his career) time. The future is now. The Tigers almost made it to the big October dance last year, and knew that a couple tweaks would give them another shot. Tweak they did, getting everything they need in one trade. 

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Ichiro Suzuki, whose first name in Japanese means "first-born son,"  was also traded today, from the Mariners to the Yankees for two minor league pitchers. Whenever a non-pitcher joins the Yankees, the suspense begins to grow: how will John Sterling call his home runs? Your BB Blogger already has the answer: Ichi geechee ya ya da da! But not by Pink OR Mesdames Kardashian. 

The deal means the M's are no longer the only major league team with two players whose last names are brand names of motorcycles (shortstop Munenori Kawasaki being the one still a Mariner).

It's ALL Happening

Today was Jacob Turner's start, and Your Baseball Blogger wondered if Turner could bounce back after being shelled in Baltimore last week. The Tigers are hot, though, and when a team is, Good Things often happen to pitchers who experienced Bad Things their last time out.

Turner gave up seven hits in five and 1-3 innings but kept the Sox from running up the score, and earned his first major league win.

Three of the seven hits came in the first inning, producing a single run. Alex Rios, the last batter Turner faced, homered with one on in the sixth. 

Quentin Berry, Bash, and Cabrera (twice) homered. Cabrera's second shot -- like the other, hit to straightaway center field -- was the 300th of his career. 

Phil Humber allowed all four homers and all six Tiger runs, and was gone after three innings. 

Villareal, Coke, Dotel, and Benoit limited the Pale Hose to one add-on run, a solo homer by Kevin Youkilis (a Jew). Dotel, following  the homer, struck four of the five batters he faced.

Wonderfulness, With Two Out

Rick Porcello stood the Pale Hose on their heads, scattering three singles over eight. He allowed one run, in the fifth,  plated via a single, two groundouts, and a dinker off the bat of Dayan Viciedo.

Austin Jackson, who's still The Man, doubled in two -- yes, with two out -- in the bottom of that inning. Bash's three-run homer -- yes, with two out -- in the sixth extended the Tigers' lead. Jackson -- that man again -- singled in two in the eighth; yes, with two out. 

Porcello came out for the ninth, and forty-two thousand Tiger partisans roared. The first two hitters singled, and Skipper Leyland came out to get him. He was greeted with a Serenade In Boo, that became a standing O for the young man from Morristown, New Jersey, who pitched the best game of his major league career. Five hits, one run, four whiffs, and no walks in eight-plus innings; Verlander-like numbers.

Wonderfulness -- the baseball state of being defined by having sole possession of first place -- comes in game number 95, with the Tigers playing their best ball since opening week, winning eleven of their last thirteen games.

The Season's First Big Series

The first place White Sox, 1 1-2 games up on the second place Tigers, are in town for a three game Big Series. 

Tonight, 44,572 squeezed into Tiger Park at Comerica Yards to see Justin Verlander battle Jake Peavey in the opener.

J-V threw one bad pitch, that Alex DeAza hit for a two-run homer in the third inning.

With two out and Peralta on third in the Tigers' half, Pea-V hit Quentin Berry. Cabrera and Fielder singled, and Delmon Young doubled, producing three runs. 

The villified, suddenly productive Young has 15 RBIs in his last 18 games.

In the seventh, Austin Jackson singled in Peralta -- yes, with two out -- for an important add-on run. Including tonight's four, 28 of the Tigers' last 41 runs have scored with two out. 

Verlander allowed four hits in eight innings while walking two and whiffing six.

The win moves the Tigers to within a half game of the AL Central lead, and Wonderfulness if they can beat the Pale Hose and take sole possession of first.

The Future's So Bright ...

Max Scherzer struck out nine in seven innings, limiting the potent Angel offense to three hits, and Alex Avila hit his first homer since May 22, as the Tigers took the lead in the AL wild-card race with a 5-1 win.

So they take the Angels series, and winning series is what Skipper Leyland says will get you to post-season. As long as you win two out of three, three out of four, awful games like the 13-0 mess don't hurt in the long run.

Since June 28: three of four from T-Bay, split with the Twins, three game sweep from the Royals, two of three wins in Baltimore, three of four wins vs LAA. Their record over the last 18 games: 13-5, and where ARE my shades? 

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We'll take help from wherever we can get it; even from the Red Sox. 

Cody Ross, the former Tiger,  won tonight's game with a three-run walkoff homer, his third three-run shot in two days, and the Carmines defeated the White Sox 3-1. The loss, and the Tiger win, reduces the Chicagoans' lead over the Tigers in the AL Central to 1 1-2 games.

Two Out Runs

All seven runners plated by the Tigers tonight scored with two out.

And -- mirable dictu -- the rally that yielded four runs in the second started with a Rugburn infield single. 

Brennan Boesch, now experiencing the Terry McMillan Effect -- getting one's groove back -- doubled and singled in three at bats.

In eight innings, Doug Fister allowed two hits and one walk while striking out ten. A work of art. You could frame it and hang it in the museum. Then Boom Boom Benoit would come by and scrawl his name in the bottom corner with a Sharpie. Mike Trout tripled off BBB in the ninth, a blast that would have been yet another home run anywhere but Comerica. 

Our team won, though, and the win moves the Tigers one half game ahead of the Indians, Orioles, and Athletics, and one ahead of the Red Sox and D-Rays, in the race for the second AL wild-card spot. Six would-be bridesmaids, but only one dress. 

Just Turn It Off

Just turn the dial ... no, put it on FM first. Then, turn it. Now. Please ... ?

Maggie did as instructed, and we did something baseball fans can do in only a very very small precious few places in the States: cruise through town with the Blue Jays on FM. 

The switch was made because Jacob Turner, making a spot start in place of the disabled Drew Smyly, got whacked for seven runs in two innings. Four batters in, the score was 4-0, in a game we sensed was doomed even before pitch one. 

Every Angel except the batboy homered. 

The Pretenders, recently elevated to Bridesmaid status by qualifying for the second American League wild card berth, managed four singles off two Halo hurlers. 

13-0 ... boy oh boy oh boy, as Harry Caray would say during particularly frustrating Cub losses. First shutout in 158 games, a streak that had been the longest active in MLB. 

"Scouts In Town To Watch Turner," read a headline in one local paper. Your cynical baseball blogger speculated: Boy Scouts, Webelos, Tiger Cubs (!), Girl Scouts maybe (yes!)  while picturing kids in uniforms with a section all to themselves, in the upper deck nosebleed seats.

No, the real scouts were behind the plate, they all left early, and Turner's status as a prospect took a hit right before the trading deadline.

You're only a prospect for so long, before you become suspect. The start was Turner's fifth over two years. The seven runs raise his ERA to 9.15, and the six hits give him 27 allowed in 19 innings.

He goes again next week, in Smyly's spot, and the start may become a career-changing moment for the young man from St. Charles, Missouri who was once regarded as a cornerstone of the Tigers' future starting rotation.

Our other home team also lost, 6-1 at Yankee Stadium.

Nothing to do but go get 'em tomorrow. There are 180 days in a season, and they can't all be rewarding. 

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Most of this blog's traffic comes from Russia, and all of it is spam. Although I imagine a young Borat Sagdiyev in the glorious nation of Kazakhstan reading it, to acquire more cultural learnings from America. He's probably baffled. "Why he write so much words about third best baseball men in region?" he may be asking his brother in law.  "And you can keep clock radio! Have American transistor radio in brown leather case, with listening phone, made in Japan. Clock radio are for little girls!"

BRENNAN BASH !!!

Boesch's two-run homer in the seventh broke a 5-5, and provided the eventual margin of victory. Final: Tigers 8, Angels 6.

That's more like it! Just for that, he gets his old blog name back.

Ben-Wah acquires a blog name, for now at least: "Boom Boom," for throwing a home run ball to Mark Trumbo leading off the next half inning. Three of the last five hitters BBB has faced, going back to the ugly loss in Baltimore, have homered.

The Old And The Young

Additional proof that Jim Thome has been around a long time: 

On the day Kate Upton was born -- June 10 1992 -- Thome had accumulated almost two years of major league service time. 

Thome got two of the three hits allowed this afternoon by Justin Verlander -- speaking of Kate Upton -- as the Tigers prevailed in Camden Yards 5-1. 

He's a nice guy and future Hall of Famer, and we'll be happy if he goes  5 for 5 every time we play the Orioles, as long as we win. 

Steve Johnson made his Show debut today in relief for the O's. He's the son of Dave Johnson, and the serious fan will remember that there was a second Dave Johnson in the major leagues, a pitcher, and that he pitched for the Tigers in 1993. 

Steve walked the first two hitters he faced in the big leagues, but got out of the jam and went two innings, allowing only a Prince Fielder homer.

Who Can We Be Mad At?

The possibles can be winnowed down to a precious few. 

We can't be mad at Brennan Boesch, who pinch-hit a double in the Tigers' three run ninth, and who, as the go-ahead run, was thrown out at the plate. If that out requires a perfect throw, you have to send the runner.

Not Alex Avila, who drove in the go-ahead run in the11th, or Quentin Berry whose hit tied the score in the ninth, and who singled in what was then a second go-ahead run in the top of the 13th.

Not really Max Scherzer, who allowed four runs but only one homer through five innings in cozy Camden Yards. And not any of Messers Below, Downs, Marte, Coke, and Dotel, who combined to shut out the Orioles. 

And you can't blame Adam Jones for hitting a dinker that scored Nick Markakis, getting the Orioles back to even after Avila's hit. Nor J.J. Hardy, 0 for his last 29, for sending a hit-me fastball into the seats in the bottom of the 13th to yet again tie the score. Nor Taylor Teagarden -- the fourth famous Texan to have that last name -- in his third AB of the season sending another hit-me pitch out of the yard to win the game. 

Let's point one finger of blame at Papa Shut 'Em Down, who in the 11th squandered yet another lead given him to protect. Only this time, in extra innings on the road, a win isn't his reward for more BS. And the other at Ben Wah, who served up both hit-mes in the 13th, to guys who really had no business hitting them where they did. 

This game started in bright sunlight at 4:05 PM and ended in twilight almost five hours later. The FOX game, haha ... what a show; ugly baseball but still preferable to whatever else Fox has on Saturday evening in the summer.

The Bottom Of The Order

So far this season, the Tiger batting order after Fielder has spoken volumes with its silence.

 Tonight at Camden Yards, eight of the Tigers' 13 hits came from the five through nine positions. 

Boesch, Young, and Peralta had two hits each; Peralta's last being that item that had been as rare as whooping cranes: the three run homer.

Fister was also sharp, holding the Orioles to three hits and one run in seven innings. Final: Tigers 7, Birds 2.

If the boys at the bottom can get it going, a big piece of the puzzle will fall in place. Then comes Not Bad (NB); the baseball state of being that exists between OM and Bridesmaid (qualifying for a wild card). "Wonderfulness" coming only when they take sole possession of first place.

 

A Game For All Cynical America

With apologies to W. Earnest Harwell, who is "long gone ..." 

Baseball is President Bush tossing out the first ball -- the only weapon of mass destruction he ever saw -- and trading Sammy Sosa for Mitch Williams.

It’s the big league pitcher formerly known as Fausto Carmona, whose real name is Roberto Hernandez. It’s Jennifer Love Hewitt, who knows nothing about baseball, eating hot dogs at a Phillies game with her boyfriend of the moment.

A tall, thin man waving a scorecard from his dugout – that’s baseball. So is the big nasty outfielder who bulked up and started hitting the ball hard at age 35, running out one of his 755 home runs with a sneer on his face. And Jose Reyes, who took himself out of the lineup after clinching the batting title on the last day of 2011.

It’s America, this baseball. It’s obscene chants from the bleachers at Wrigley, the fake hill in center field in Houston, drunk White Sox fans, ball parks named after banks and telephone companies, the intimate charm of Tropicana Field. And the weed covered lot at Michigan and Trumbull where Tiger Stadium stood. 

There’s a fan in Saginaw who remembers the day nine years ago when Brandon Inge snagged a one hop liner and threw the runner out, and wasn’t booed. That’s baseball. So is the scouting director who recommended that the Tigers select Steve Pegues, Randy Nosek, Les Filkins, Matthew Wheatland, and Wayne Dotson as first-round draft picks.

It’s six dollar hot dogs, eight dollar beers, $30 T-shirts, and taking out a second mortgage so the whole family can see a game in person.

In baseball, democracy shines its clearest. Here the only race that matters is the race to the bank on the first and 15 th of every month. The creed is the salary negotiation. Color is something to distinguish the worthless paper money of one player’s country from another.

Baseball is Josh Beckett knowing how many off days are on the Red Sox schedule, and the location of a good golf course in every major league city. It’s a Sox fan running across the Fenway outfield in the rain, in his birthday suit.  The fifteenth out of every game sponsored by a certain car insurance company, that’s baseball. So is Cowboy Joe West who knows, deep down in his Texas heart, that the fans are really there to watch him call balls and strikes.

A housewife in Chicago couldn’t tell you the color of her husband’s eyes, but she knows that Joe Ballplayer is hitting .337, likes chicken alfredo, and prefers to be on the bottom. That’s baseball. So is the bright sanctity of Cooperstown’s Hall of Fame, where an overaged pixie named Rabbit Maranville is, but Gil Hodges and Jim Kaat aren’t.

Baseball is the wacky wit of Bobby Valentine, Lee Elia cursing out unemployed Cubs fans who come out to see day baseball, Mayo Smith telling writers that Tigers fans wouldn’t know a ballplayer from a Chinese aviator, and Mark McGwire’s reluctance to talk about the past.

Baseball? It’s just a game-as simple as a ball and a bat. Yet as complex as the American spirit it symbolizes. It’s Frank McCourt spending the Dodgers into bankruptcy, and then telling fans how much he loves them. It’s the Houston Astros selling naming rights for their new stadium to Enron. It’s the Mets laundering Bernie Madoff’s money. It’s new words added to the sports fan’s vocabulary: andriol, primobolin, ephedra, androstendione.

Baseball is Tradition in the Baltimore Orioles’ orange uniforms. And Chagrin in failing a drug test. It’s Dignity in the blue serge of Jim Joyce calling Jason Donald safe.  It’s  Humor, holding its sides when a drunk kid with no shirt eludes an entire crew of rent-a-cops. And Pathos in the person of Albert Belle screaming at a fan.

Baseball is a sweaty, steaming dressing room where hopes and feelings are as naked as the men themselves, and one out of every six players is gay. It’s a dugout with spike-scarred flooring and an advertisement on every flat surface. It’s the endless parade of names in box scores, abbreviated almost beyond recognition, impossible to know anyway with 30 teams and 750 players.

Arguments, two dollar packs of baseball cards, $40 for an autograph at a card show, Morganna the Kissing Bandit, all of them are baseball.

Baseball is a rookie-his experience no bigger than the lump in his throat-trying to begin fulfillment of a dream. It’s a veteran too; a worn-down Steve Carlton hanging on any way he can to accumulate another year of service time in the pension plan.

Joes Canseco, once a sure first ballot Hall of Famer, starting a second career as a kickboxer, that’s baseball.  So is the voice of a doomed Rafael Palmiero telling a Congressional committee: I never used performance-enhancing drugs. Period. 

Baseball is cigar smoke (you can’t smoke in the stands anymore), roasted peanuts ($3 / bag), winter trades (get their agents’ permission first), and the seventh-inning stretch. It’s time on the DL for stiff necks acquired by sleeping wrong, broken bats with cork scattered across the infield, and the strains of  Metallica when Trevor Hoffman comes in to pitch the ninth inning.

Baseball is a highly paid Boston Red Sox pitcher telling the media “What I do on my off days is my business.”

This is a game for America, this baseball. 

A game for boys, and men, and boys who never bothered to grow up and turn into men.

The Least Shall Be Most

Three days ago, ESPN's Jayson Stark named Delmon Young the American League's first half Least Valuable Player. 

He had as many double plays as homers (seven), two fewer homers than walks (nine), and had only 31 RBIs while hitting behind Fielder and Cabrera all season, and Jackson and Berry for most of it. And he did the unthinkable: called a Jew a Jew in New York City. 

Three days later, the AL LVP homered in his fourth straight game, helping the Tigers defeat the Royals 7-1 this afternoon at Comerica. 

Fielder and Peralta also homered -- Prince with two one -- and Max Strikeout whiffed seven in seven innings while allowing five hits, to collect the win. 

It was the Tigers' fifth straight win, and comes at a time when at last more pieces are falling into place, when they may wish the four day All-Star break didn't start tomorrow.

Papa Leadoff Walk

Only Jose Valverde could turn what should have been a sweet day into nail-biting drama.

Delmon Young, the league's first half LVP, homered in his third straight game. The Pretenders built up a nice 8-4 lead entering the ninth. Enter the closer; and, ooops, he did it again, walked the leadoff batter on four pitches.

A double and a five pitch walk followed. Billy Butler singled in two, and an 8-4 game became an 8-6 cliffhanger. In the pen, two pitchers began loosening. Closers for the closer. 

A Mike Moustakis sac fly plated the seventh Royals run. Pinch runner Jason Working Class (real last name Bourgeois) stole second. They tying run was in scoring position, with another Frenchman, Jeff Francoeur, up. 

Francoeur ended the game via un retrait au baton. Another trademarked Valverde-ism, making a mess of things and then striking out the last batter. Hugs and high fives were exchanged. One would think they'd just won the World Series instead of hanging on by their fingernails to a game in July.

Official Mediocrity

Official Mediocrity (OM) has at last been achieved. 

Drew Smyly struck out nine of the first twelve Royals hitters. Quentin Berry tripled in two, and Delmon Young -- voted the league's first half Least Valuable Player by ESPN's Jayson Stark -- homered with Prince Fielder on. 

The vocal quartet Three Holds and a Save -- Villareal, Coke, Benoit, and Valverde -- re-entered the spotlight, and protected the 4-2 lead.

The win evened the Tigers' 2012 record at 42 wins, 42 losses; and sent baseball fans throughout Michigan to their local lottery retailers to play 4242 in tonight's Daily Four game.

Now: can the Pretenders handle the pressure and enormous responsibility that goes with playing .500 ball? I mean ... to paraphrase Billy Loes,  if you start winning, pretty soon people expect you to keep winning. 

Downs Day Afternoon

They keep stats for everything now, and records that no one knew existed are being broken.

Yet no one knows if three straight games delayed by rain for over an hour is a record.

Over thirty three thousand sheeple entered Comerica this afternoon, and waited through 83 minutes of rain before pitch one was thrown. "Best fans in the world," says Jim Price. They have to be the best, or the most gullible, to come out in those numbers, with rain predicted, to watch an ordinary team play a very ordinary (40-42) brand of baseball.

Rick Porcello's line was anything but ordinary: 3.2 innings, 12 hits, 3 runs. The Twins helping him by having three runners thrown out at the plate, two on hits and one on a busted squeeze play.

But he left losing only 3-1, when this game had the shape and form of one in which good things eventually happen.

Enter Darin Downs, the rookie Tiger hurler appearing in his second major league game. He's the young man who three years ago was hit in the head by a line drive, his baseball career and life in jeopardy. 

Downs pitched three scoreless innings allowed one hit, and struck out five. He got the game to the setup men, just in time for more good things.  

In the eighth, Prince Fielder homered with two on. Delmon Young followed with a homer via video review. Earlier in the game, he drew his ninth walk of the season, in 283 at bats. All signs of life undocumented in the recorded history of man since the first Easter morning.

Looked Like We Were In For Nasty Weather

The 41K sheeple ... er, Tigers fans, who waited through tonight's two and a half hours or rain and wind and lightning to see baseball deserve a pass. Justin Verlander was pitching, and when he takes the ball, anything can happen. The Tigers might even win. 

Win they did, 5-1, led by Cabrera's two homers and double, and Austin Jackson's 3 for 3.

Jackson, still The Man, third in the American League in hitting with a .329 average,  is arguably the most deserving AL player who isn't going to next week's All-Star game. Third in OPS, seventh in slugging, leads in triples, plays Gold Glove defense, not good enough even with a 34 man roster. But Me Tarzan Yu Darvish gets to go, voted in by the sheeple as player #34. Eight Texas Rangers being better than seven, I guess, and do they really need 13 pitchers on the squad?

If You Need To Watch Baseball Real Bad ...

Those who waited through tonight's 90 minute rain delay stand as proof that Tigers fans are bigger fools than anyone could ever imagine. 

Here, in fact, is a picture of some Tigers fans in line at the day-of-game ticket window: 

No, Lyle "Mouton" isn't among them. (Look at those sweet little faces. Think about them next time you order veal scallopini.)

Not visible are the ominous blue-black southwestern sky and the gentle pitty-pat drops of rain that indicate something much worse is on the way. 

But the sheeple ... er, fans, trooped to their seats and waited for the game to start. Wandered around, rode the carousel. visited the ATMs, and spent money in the food court of this ball park occupied by a team whose owner makes pizza, that has almost no covered seating.

They saw baseball played as the Marx Brothers would play it. 

In the third, Ramon Santiago kicked an easy two-out grounder. Five unearned runs scored, and a 3-1 lead became a 6-3 deficit. He booted a second ball in the fifth, but no damaged was done. 

Purnal Boesch clanged a Josh Willingham liner that was scored a double, taking the shine off a rare good night at the plate (3 for 4, a homer, three RBIs).

A two-run homer by Austin Jackson in the same inning evened the score at six. But that isn't fair. It's not fair to take the gift back once it's been wrapped and handed over. 

The usually reliable Brayan Villareal allowed two doubles in the seventh. After an intentional walk, a sac fly gave the Twins a 7-6 lead. That was okay, though, the top of the order was due next inning, and anything can happen. And it did; with QB on first, Trevor Plouffe (rhymes with "pooffe") grabbed a Cabrera liner and turned it into a double play. Their guy catches the ball ... and, after that, you pretty much knew it was over. No need to watch the last two innings, unless you loved The Bad News Bears and want to see more.

But this night of disaster at Tiger Park at Comerica Yards does have a feel-good angle. 

Sixty former illegal aliens who violated US immigration laws by coming here, and staying here, without proper documentation were sworn in as naturalized citizens on this Fourth of July eve. They got rained on, and got to see some very bad baseball played the Tiger way. An allegorical preview of life in their new home, where they've been living for years anyway. Hello .. this is Amercia.

The Men Of LaMancha

They dream the impossible dream, reach for the impossible star: the .500 mark (Official Mediocrity); no matter how hopeless, no matter how far ... 

The grail slipped a little farther away tonight with a 6-4 loss to the last-place Twins.

The loss leaves the Quixoties two games under OM at 39-41 with one game remaining before the season's halfway point.

This year's secondary quest is getting Rugburn off the Interstate. (In Maggie's Rugburn-off-the-Interstate pool, I have July 30 at Fenway as the day and location of his finally cracking the .200 barrier.)  RR went 0 for 3 to end the night at .178; the mirage of just being ordinarily awful wavering in the summer heat. 

Tonight's LOL moment was Purnal Boesch hitting for Rugburn with two on and two out in the seventh. The right kind of hit would have tied the game. But he struck out swinging. At least he didn't stand there and watch the third one go by. The moment, like a painting by one of the great masters, seemed to capture the spirit of that precise moment in time, and of the whole 2012 Tiger season.

Hold, Hold, Hold, Save

Drew Smyly came out after five, leading 5-3. Villareal, Coke, and Benoit blanked the D-Rays to earn one hold each, and Valverde got the nine-pitch save.

Isn't it wonderful when things work like they're supposed to? 

Five Tigers drove in one run each, and that's also good. No single player carried the entire offensive load. Rugburn was among then, going 1 for 3 and continuing to creep up on the coveted .200 mark. It's July, it's hot, everywhere;  traditionally the time and conditions that cue RR to remember what baseball bats are for and start hitting.

Rays' starter Alex Cobb is one of five players in MLB history with that surname, and the first since 1929. He, more than any active player, really belongs in the other team's uniform; with the name COBB on the back and the Olde English "D," the same one Tyrus Raymond wore, on the front.