Showing posts with label ranting nonsense. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ranting nonsense. Show all posts

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Reminder To All: Will Rhymes Sucks


During  today’s four-for-five performance, I received texts from a couple of people about Will Rhymes (pictured above on the far left).  “He’s trying to win you over.”  “Your boy doesn’t look too bad, haha.”  In fact, since his recall from Toledo after Carlos Guillen’s latest boo boo, Will “The Thrill” has gone eight-for-seventeen for the Tigers.  I even conceded that he might not be as bad as I thought in one text.
Then, I remembered that we were playing the Indians, perhaps the only team in the American League featuring more border line major leaguers than Detroit.  I remembered that Cleveland has had guys pitching this series that even Don Kelly has been feasting on.  And I remembered that I’m not a f-cking moron.  Nice try, though.
Will Rhymes has had 72 major league plate appearances.  Small sample size, I know (pun intended).  But in those plate appearances, he has an OBP of .314, an OPS of .663, an OPS+ of 78 (100 is average), a WAR of -0.1, and 4 walks.  Wait…four walks?  The guy has a strike zone the size of a Hot Pocket and has only drawn four walks?  And this is the guy that every Tiger message board poster and psycho-Inge-fan wants to be our second baseman now?  Am I the only Tiger fan in the world that cares about winning baseball games?
He’s not a horrible baseball player.  But he’ll be 27 by Opening Day in 2011.  He is below average and is not going to improve.  And what of Scott Sizemore?  Remember him?  The guy that hit .308 last year between AA and AAA with 17 homers, a .389 OBP, and .889 OPS?  The guy that struggled with the big club early in 2010, but has responded back in AAA by hitting .293 with 8 homers and an .837 OPS?  Why are we dealing with a guy smaller than the bat boy slap-hitting and needlessly bunting balls around instead of getting a look at our real future second baseman?
And for the love of everything that is holy, good, and decent...do not EVER describe Will Rhymes to me ever again as scrappy, gutsy, gritty, pesky, a sparkplug, a throwback, a hustler, a grinder, a gamer, a guy that’s 155 pounds (most of it heart), a guy that does the little things, a guy that gets the most out of the least, a guy with moxie, or a guy with spunk.  If you do, I will throw back my gritty spunk in your face after reading Hustler.
To me, he’s another in a long line of light-hitting, white, cookie-cutter, mediocre AAAA players that Dave Dombrowski keeps cloning and sending up to the big club in an attempt to drive me crazy. 
Except from now on, I will be referring to this one as Tinkerbell.  Ha.
Sigh.  I miss Magglio.  I can't even enjoy wins anymore.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Twelve Baseball Fans That Annoy Me


No...not her. Not this time.

I was lucky enough to attend Thursday’s 5-2 Tiger victory over the Blue Jays of Toronto. This brought the Detroit win-loss record with me in attendance this year to a flawless 3-0 so far, by the way. I rule. Anyway, it was a beautiful day, perfect weather, and I got to see in person, once again, why Justin Verlander is all sorts of awesome. Miguel Cabrera and Johnny Damon, too.

But of course, no silver lining in Your Party Host’s world comes without several clouds. In this case, it was the people I was surrounded by. I love attending games at Comerica Park. Love it. But the idiots that insist on joining me in watching my baseball team run around the field never fail to get on my nerves to the point where I want to see several of them torn apart by wild dogs. Am I overreacting? You be the judge.

The following are a dozen fans that I always seem to come into contact with at baseball games that irritate me. And yes, I swear, there were examples of each of these survived abortions at Thursday’s game. See if you recognize anyone.

1. The seat jumper. There was this heavily tattooed bald guy and his girlfriend (that looked like she had more miles on her than Al Bundy’s Dodge) that I personally saw get kicked out of three different sets of seats by the rightful ticket holders…all before the fourth inning. I mean, if it’s late in the game and you move closer to that action where no one’s been sitting…I can understand that. But these pricks just kept sitting wherever and were actually getting upset at being asked to move. Unlike most Tiger games I’ve been to, the ushers were non-existent at this game. Luckily, no one was shot, as I’m almost positive this guy had to be carrying a gun.

2. The bad parent. In the row in front of me, there was a father and his three sons, all heavily clad in Blue Jays gear. They were from Canada and were very quiet and polite, like most Canadians I’ve met. But the prick father, at two different times, got up and left his kids (the oldest of which couldn’t have been more than 12) by themselves for at least twenty minutes at a time. Maybe I’m overprotective of my own kid, but I’m not leaving my demon seed unattended at the playground, let alone in the city of Detroit. I watch too much CSI, Unsolved Mysteries, and the scariest show of all: The Evening News, I guess. Luckily for them, my buddy that went to the game with me was also a Jays fan and took it upon himself to look out for the little maple syrup drinking bastards.

3. Old people. I admit, I’m a bit biased against our country’s senior citizens. Working in the service industry, old folks are known to be rude, they run you ragged, they complain about everything, and they’re horrible tippers. Terrible people, in most cases. And maybe it’s because I haven’t attended that many 1pm games, but I’ve never seen so many people that resembled walking corpses at Comerica Park. Normally, the fat girls in Brandon Inge jerseys outnumber the blue-haired fossils 10 to 1, but this time the numbers were reversed.

There was this one confused, lost old lady that stood in the aisle with her mouth hanging open for a good ten minutes, staring at her ticket and then at the seats. She had no idea where she was. I considered helping her myself, but that would be breaking my iron clad rule of minding my own business in public, as well as my other rule of being nice to old people without being paid for it. So, instead, I was actually looking around for one of the missing ushers after a while (who I assumed were ignoring her because she happened to be black) when one of the young Canadian children (bless him) finally got up, looked at her ticket, and told her where she was supposed to sit (only three more rows up). She still took another ten minutes to find her seat. Five minutes later, I saw her wandering off once again, to God knows where.

After the game, we had to stand in the aisle for ten minutes, not moving. Apparently, some ancient codger had fallen or something at the top of the stairs and we had to wait for someone to stand him up without breaking his hip. I’m too busy for this stuff. Call me heartless, but people over 75 should be put to sleep unless a panel of experts can agree that they can still be of use to society in some way. I know I would want someone to smother me with a pillow if I was being such a bother to others.

(Note to sensitive/new readers to the blog: I'm kidding. Maybe.)

4. Fat people. I bet I saw at least six guys at the game that had to be pushing 400 lbs. I couldn’t help but see the uncomfortable looks on the faces of the poor folks that were unlucky enough to be sitting scrunched up next to these piles of lard that were no doubt cooking in the July sunshine. Look, I’m not a skinny person. But I’m not a walking condominium, either. Stay home and eat your own weight in pork rinks, Lunchbox. Okay? You know you want to.

5. Jerkoffs that wear Tiger jerseys with their own last name on the back. One of my favorite pastimes at the ballpark is checking out what jerseys people are wearing. Justin Verlander was the most popular choice at this particular game. It made sense since he was pitching. There were also their fair share of Cabreras, Inges, and Boesches scattered around the stadium. I saw the obligatory Higginson jersey that made me smile that someone else still remembers my hero. My personal favorite at this game was the rare Tettleton jersey. But I have never seen so many jerseys with a familiar number, but an unfamiliar name above it. Why do people do this? Do they feel like they’re on the team this way? Is this helping them live out some unfulfilled childhood fantasy in some way? People should not be allowed into the ballpark wearing such faulty gaming attire.

One last thing on these folks. It was a self-named jersey guy that after the game was finished did another thing that I detest at sporting events. As we’re exiting the stadium, some guy with an unpronounceable Polish last name over his #7 started screaming “Blue Jays suck” at the top of his lungs in the faces of several people in Jays attire that walked past him. I hate this. Show a bit of class, dude, especially since your team just had a seven-game losing streak. It takes guts to wear your team’s colors in another city. I respect that in people. In fact, a friend of mine wore a Tigers jersey to Cleveland once. After the game, he happened to see Jim Thome (still with the Tribe at the time) at a bar in the Flats. He approached Thome, complimented him on his play, and asked for an autograph. Thome looked him up and down and said, “You’ve got a lot of balls wearing that in here.” He signed a ticket stub, shook my friend’s hand, and wished him well. That’s class. I’m always respectful of out-of-towners.

Well, unless we lose. Then I tell them to get raped by a grizzly bear.

More whining after the jump. Join me.


Saturday, June 26, 2010

A Rant On Jim Leyland


Bear with me, kids, but this has been building inside of me for a while. When I’m not doing my usual “Jo Jo the Idiot Circus Monkey” schlong joke jamboree here at the DNR, I usually try to give an opinion that is honest, but perhaps not the general consensus of other Tiger fans I read and/or I talk to.

For example, I was pro-Gary Sheffield when not many were due to his high OBP and will to win. I was very much in favor of signing Jose Valverde when most were not. I’m of the opinion that Brandon Inge may possibly be the bloody antichrist while the majority of Tigerland wants a statue of him built in left field at Comerica Park. I even wanted Josh Anderson to be a starter, thinking he was going to morph into some sort of 1980’s Vince Coleman-type player. I’m not always right. (Don’t tell anyone.) But the point is, I try not to be anything close to cliché over here.

But I’m kind of about to be in this piece. Again, stick with me on this, if you will.

It is very cliché for a baseball fan to rag on the manager of his team. “He’s an idiot.” “Fire the bum.” “Heck, I could do a better job running the team than this clown.”

You can read comments like that after every article dealing with the Tigers over at tigers.com, the Freep, or the Detroit News site. Baseball fans always think they are smarter than the manager, no matter which club they’re a fan of. Second guessing the skipper has become an art form in today’s sports viewing with ESPN’s talking heads, instant replay, and of course, the internet becoming more and more prominent. Being a manager is a thankless job that one would have to be a little bit crazy to want to do in the first place. Look at Joe Torre, for crissakes. All the guy did in New York was win and it still wasn’t enough for them.

But screw Torre. This is a Tigers blog. And I am frigging sick and tired of Jim Leyland and how he runs the Detroit Tigers baseball team. At times, I even hate him more than Don Kelly. (I know!)

The icing on the cake for me, for whatever reason, was in the series finale against the Mets on Thursday. I can’t quite remember how it came up, but Mario and Rod were talking about stats, computer printouts, and whatnot. Then they said that Leyland wasn’t into any of that. They commented that at most, he’ll have one piece of paper that he’s written things on. Mario even noted that Jim’s seems proud that he “doesn’t even know how to turn on a computer.”

It is 2010, kids. Our manager is proud of the fact that he doesn’t know how to take advantage of information that might make his team better. He brags about being stuck in his ways. He continues to hurt the team when a regular player is hurt by just subbing a Quad-A player in the starter’s normal spot in the batting order, whether it’s Don Kelly leading off or Ryan Raburn hitting third. Mother of God, the most inept hitting player on the team, Gerald Laird, was second in the lineup the other day. What the fudge, man? It is ridiculous to me.

How many games did Jim cost us by stubbornly batting .230 hitter extraordinaire, Clete Thomas, third in the batting order last year? How many ballgames this season have been lost by his decision to bring make Dontrelle Willis the #5 starter over Our Hero, Nate Robertson or maybe Eddie Bonine? Exactly how long was he planning on leaving a gassed Fernando Rodney in there during the infamous Game 163? Why was Figaro starting the most important game of the year (at the time) last year and Polanco getting a day off the final week of the season when we needed him most? When exactly is he going to have a talk with Carlos Guillen about throwing, whether it be to the wrong base twice in the same game from left field against KC earlier this year, or throwing sidearm at second base and pulling Miguel Cabrera off the bag multiple times this month? (Apologies for the run-on sentence…I get worked up.)

I could go on and on. I’m just frustrated and fed up with The Marlboro Man’s antics. I’d like to see the Tigers follow the modern trends that are being followed in running the teams in Oakland, Toronto, and Boston, for example. Maybe I just picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue.

Big Al over at Bless You Boys wrote a good piece complaining about Jimbo’s lineups on Wednesday and brought up how great Jim is a managing the clubhouse. I agree 100% with him on that. Jim’s great at keeping players happy and his handling of the Jim Joyce/Armando Galarraga saga was perfect. Bravo, Mr. Leyland on that stuff.

But f-ck team chemistry. I give two slaps of a fat chick’s ass if the Tigers are a happy group and like each other. I want them to win baseball games. I want them to not continue to wilt under pressure late in the season. I want my manager to give the team their best chance at winning each and every time they trot onto the field. And batting Don F'n Kelly leadoff is not doing anything close to that.

I’ve always been one to think that a baseball manager does not win games for his team. But he sure as hell can do his part in losing them with his decisions. In 2,917 MLB games as manager, Leyland is 1,450-1,467…that’s a winning percentage of .497. With the exception of a piss poor Colorado Rockies team in 1999, Jim’s had pretty good baseball teams over the years in Pittsburgh, Florida, and Detroit and is still under the .500 mark. Yes, he won a World Series with Florida in 1997. But that Marlins team was so overloaded with superstars that even the Yankees would have blushed about it. A chimp could have taken them to the Series.

Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m actually Alan Trammell and am bitter about how the team screwed me over.

But I’m pretty sure that I’m not. I have zero confidence that Jim Leyland can lead the Tigers to the promised land. He got involved in a perfect storm in 2006 and I’ll be forever grateful to that team for the memories up until the World Series collapse against an inferior Cardinals team. But I don’t see it happening again. I just continue to see this team lose game after game where if we had a manager with even a minor interest in taking a look at the numbers that are readily available to him, to quit being so stubborn in his ways that have led him to a career losing record, to just use some f-cking common sense once in a while…

Sorry, Jim. I really, really hope that I’m wrong. You’re a nice guy. You’re a class act. You give some interesting as hell interviews when you’re in the mood. You don’t want to hear any weak sh-t from Jason Grilli. Amen!

But enough’s enough. It’s time for a change.

We are watching Detroit Tigers baseball at a very special time. Do you folks realize and appreciate that? Right now, we have arguably both the best hitter (Miguel Cabrera) and best starting pitcher (Justin Verlander) in Tiger history playing on the same team in the primes of their careers. (All due respect to Cobb, Kaline, Greenberg, Lolich, Morris, etc.) We have experienced supporting superstars in Johnny Damon and Magglio Ordonez that are more than capable of pulling their weight. We have two of the most promising young players in Austin Jackson and Brennan Boesch that I’ve seen come up as rookies in recent memory. We have the youngest pitching staff in the majors and these kids can throw...and more are on the way! We have an owner that is willing to spend cash to the point that he was the only owner to lose money in MLB last season...and he was cool with that. He just wants to win.

And in 2011, all of the pieces will be available for the Tigers to make their most legitimate run at a World Series since I started watching baseball in 1985. Most of the bad contracts will finally be gone, the kids will have a year of experience under their belts, and if we’re lucky, Joe Mauer will have died of AIDS by then. (Pray with me.)

But I ask you, one more time, is Jim Leyland the man that you want to see running the show again?

I say no. Please, no. With a capital f-cking "N".