Saturday, May 31, 2008
"I am so mad right now"
This 2007-2008 season, it appeared the Pistons had made the adjustments that would put them back in the Finals. Flip Saunders was using the bench more, giving our starters much-needed rest. Our young guys were playing good minutes and showing that they deserved it. Locking up the 2 seed in the Eastern Conference, the playoffs looked promising; the Detroit-Boston match up that everybody wanted looked sure. After stumbling out of the gate, the Pistons made quick work of the 76ers and Magic, closing them out in five games a piece. Meanwhile, Boston battled through two seven-game series with the Hawks and the Lebrons. If anything, Detroit should have the edge, right? We had two relatively easy series. We had the playoff experience that Boston's Big Three lacked. We knew we could win on the road. If only it was that easy.
Boston held home court in game one. Chauncey wasn't himself, and the end result shows. How Chauncey goes, so goes the Pistons. Usually, at least. We rebounded from game 1 and stole game 2, with a great game from all our players. The rookie guard, Rodney Stuckey, played key minutes and proved himself to be a reliable playoff player. A PTPer, Dicky V may say. But as has become custom with this Piston team, game 3 was full of lackluster effort, terrible shooting, poor defense, and completely lacking energy. So after stealing home court from the Celtics, we gave it right back. You're welcome. This Detroit team rarely loses two playoff games in a row, though. We play best with our backs against the wall. In line with that, we won game 4 in resounding fashion, again coming from a balanced attack led by Antonio McDyess (21 pts, 16 rebs).
Back to Boston for game 5, this was close from the get-go. However, we were down by as many at seventeen in the third quarter. This is all too common for this team. And since their collective backs were against the wall, they locked down on defense, played a well-balanced offense, and clawed back to within one point in the fourth quarter. But we couldn't close it out. Boston won the nail-biter, 104-101. To the Palace we go for game 6. Boston was forced to either close out on the road, or play their third game 7 at home against a team that has no problem winning on the road in game seven. Just ask Shaq and D Wade. The table was set for two epic battles -- game 6 in Detroit, game 7 in Boston. I was utterly confident going into last night's game. We won't get closed out at home. Boston won't win two on the road. This game is ours. Or so I was convincing myself.
And it was a close game from the start. Rasheed and Tayshaun showed up with two horrendous outings, bringing nothing to the table in the team's biggest game of the year. Our All-Star back court of Chauncey and Rip was the only thing that kept us in the game. Chauncey got his stroke back, netting 29 for the game. Rip put in 21. Tayshaun was the only other player in double digits (with ten), and he kindly offset that with his lackadaisical play, highlighted by the most crucial turnover I've seen this team make.
We had a ten point lead late in the second half, but Boston locked down on D, upped the offensive aggressiveness, and ultimately stole the game. In the third quarter, we were clicking: making the extra pass, helping out on defense, hustling for the rebounds, playing with passion. Then it stopped. Everything we did to build a lead quickly vanished as Boston gained control of the game. Basketball is a game of runs, and Boston timed their run just right: it brought them the victory and sent every Pistons fan home dejected and frustrated. How could this happen? At the Palace? We were up by ten? 'Sheed only had four points on 2-12 shooting? Our back court combined for 50 points and we still lost? This was incogitable, nothing like what I envisioned.
I could not have been more mad after the game last night. Had it not been for a random midnight shift at work that involved ghosts, haunted places, and my two cousins, I would have been stewing in my anger for the entire night.
I am so mad right now.
That's all I kept saying. I couldn't believe it. But maybe I should have expected it. I've watched this team religiously since 2003. I've worn my Chauncey jersey every playoff game since then. I defended them at the end of each series, when all the haters would come out and bash the coach, bash the players, bash our style, bash our city. I stuck up for this team because I believed in them. We won it all in 2004, lost an excruciating seven-game series in the Finals in 2005, lost to a sizzling hot Heat team in 2006, lost to the Lebrons in 2007. After each loss I felt dejected. Each year, this team could have won it all. We had the talent, we had the veterans, we had enough young guys.
There were excuses galore for each loss, and you better believe I, and the rest of the city, pulled them out. "If 'Sheed had just guarded Horry at the end of game 5, we would've won it all in '05." "D Wade was getting the Michael Jordan treatment in 2006." "We were too tired by the time we faced the Cavs in 2007." There were no excuses this year. We had the bench; we had the starters; no way to wiggle out of this one.
And going into the playoffs, I had a feeling that if we didn't win it all, there would be some major changes to this team. While getting to the Eastern Conference Finals six years in a row is fine and dandy, it ain't winning a championship. And that's what matters. When you know you have the talent to win it all and yet fall short four years in a row, there has to be changes made. Ultimately, that's why I thought we were going to win it all this year. You have to understand the psyche of this team.
This group of Pistons is by far the most proud team in the NBA. In 2004, they felt snubbed because all of the media crowned LA champs before we even played. So we went out there with a giant chip on our shoulder and took it to 'em. And in the following years, we still felt dissed, that we didn't get the credit we deserved. If ever we lost, it was our fault; we didn't execute; we didn't make stops; we didn't hit open jumpers. We never gave credit where credit was due. And part of me liked that. I liked the fact that they didn't kiss butt, and I liked that they knew how good they were. But they got lazy.
There's the old analogy of being able to "turn it on" when you have to and really clamp down in crunch time situations. Well that has been this team's mantra since we lost to San Antonio. All the sudden, we had all the experience, we had "been here before." So we didn't get flustered; we didn't get nervous. Translated: we played hard when we absolutely had to. If the series was even, eh, screw it. There's always next game. Well that caught up with them for the final time last night against the Celtics. They succumbed to a hungrier team, a team with a legit super star that took over in crunch time (again -- D Wade in '06, Lebron in '07, Pierce in '08).
And I thought we had finally learned our lesson. We can't keep playing those stupid games. We barely lost game 5, and I thought for sure we'd come up big in game 6, forcing an epic game 7 in Boston. But 'Sheed laid an egg again in the big game, we folded down the stretch; our offense went stagnant. We had the game in hand, up ten late in the second half. Then Boston did all the little things that championship-caliber teams do: grab the loose balls, up the defensive intensity, hit the open shots, get to the foul line. We settled for long, contested jumpers, committed untimely turnovers, fouled, lost our composure. And we lost.
This team with such depth, such proven experience blew their final lead together. This era in Pistons history will be remembered as coming close so many times. We never could make it back over the hump to get to the Finals again. I don't know what changes will be made, but it's common knowledge that something has to happen. I'm not convinced firing Flip will be the right move, but that's another debate. I think Chauncey and Tayshaun are must-stays, and I think Joe Dumars needs to wheel-and-deal to get our own super star that can carry the team late in games. But that will be for a later date.
Because I was so confident going into last night's game, I was that much more disappointed when we lost. I just knew this supremely confident team couldn't get eliminated at home: we would find a way to win, to force that game 7. But we didn't. We let Boston take it to us down the stretch. We refused to set the tempo and dictate our style of play. Instead, we played like we had been there before, like this was no big deal. Well wake up, boys, that was a big deal. And now you're eliminated.
For an hour or so after last night's game, I kept saying, "I am so mad right now." I was mad that we couldn't score in the fourth quarter, that I wouldn't be able to wear my Chauncey jersey for a while, that this was probably the last time I would see this nucleus of Pistons playing together. I was mad that we didn't show up down the stretch of the biggest game of the year. Unfortunately, the better team won this series. It was so evenly matched that that statement could be said regardless of the outcome. Boston deserved it. But now the Pistons won't be the same. This era of Pistons basketball as we know it is over. And that's a sad thing.
I loved this team.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Some Housecleaning and Sports
Unfortunately, I have failed to write about some absolutely wonderful things in the sports world, both on the Detroit scene and the sports scene at large. The Lions looked hopeful but proved to be normal -- bad, that is. U of M lost again to Ohio State but capped off the season with a spectacular win over Florida, sending Loyd Carr off the right way. The Pistons played a great regular season, locking up the 2 seed for the playoffs. The Tigers made some blockbuster moves to acquire great talent. It looked like this season would be one for the ages. Then we started playing. The Red Wings posted the best record in the NHL and skated into the playoffs with home ice all the way through; they looked ready to play. And that's just the Detroit sports scene.
So needless to say I missed a lot. This is inexcusable, really, but please excuse and forgive me, and accept this humble invitation to join me as I resume this blog. If this is your first time reading my site, I'll take a few minutes to explain what exactly goes on here. This can be a very complicated site, full of writing and, well, that's it. Not all that complicated, I guess. So let me explain to you this blog.
As you may surmise from the title of the blog, I write most often about Detroit sports. I am a huge Detroit sports fan. Combine that with my love for writing and you have a match made in heaven. For me, at least. I write about whatever sport happens to be going on at the time. Right now, I have the distinct privilege of rooting for the Red Wings, Pistons, and Tigers at the same time, with two of those teams deep in the playoffs. (And to all of you Detroit-haters, please, back off. I'm looking around and I don't see any other city providing the like. Thank you).
So I write about sports a lot. It's not only Detroit sports, though; so fret not, all you non-Detroit sports fans. I am a fan of all sports, and I don't confine my writing and viewing of sports to Detroit. I'll write frequently about all games, teams, players, deals, situations, whathaveyou.
But aside from sports, I like to dabble in all things in life. Whether it be some simple things I saw or a book I'm reading or movie I watched, I'm never short an opinion or "take," and I'm always willing to write about it. Summarized: this blog is about Detroit sports, sports in general, and all things Chad (in that order).
So if you think you may enjoy reading this blog, I invite to come back and check it out. Please, leave comments, suggestions, thoughts, opinions, pontifications, etc. in the "comments" section following each post. My goal is to blog twice a week. That will be no problem right now, seeing that I have an abundance of material to pull from because Detroit sports are amazing. I think I already mentioned that.
I'll be writing as long as you're reading: this can be a nice relationship. I'll treat you right, don't worry. I'm looking forward to it, people. I'm out.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
An Apology and List of Everything
Well, since my last post on September 12, lots has happened. Lots in the world of sports at large, lots in Detroit sports, lots in my life. So how on earth am I supposed to wrap up a month of my life in one, coherent post? Seriously. Does anyone know? Because I don't. I've been thinking about it, but I just can't figure anything out. So I'm here sitting at my computer, writing, not knowing where I'm going to go with this. You can just call me The Rambler.
There have been several things that have happened throughout the last month or so that, when they happen, I have made the mental note of "Gotta blog about that." So I'll tell ya what; here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to give an incoherent rambling about the several things that have stuck out in my mind. This may be 1,500 words or so, but continue on if you want to be enlightened on All Things Chad. If I were you, I'd read on. Some of these are sports-related, others not.
My Detroit Tigers
I'll tell ya what, this was a bummer of a season. Plagued by injuries, constantly climbing up-hill, we never really had it. You're only as good as your starting pitching, but ours were injured. A lot. And that hurt like you wouldn't believe. We had our chance and we blew it. We came close but fell short. It was over when we got swept by the Indians. It was a tough, tough season. But I'm optimistic.
We're still returning a great team for next year. And that's the great thing about sports: there's always next year. Granderson had a heckuva year. Can't say enough about him. A stand-up guy, well-spoken, great fielder, complete hitter. What more could you ask for? Verlander showed no signs of the typical Sophomore Slump. He posted 17 wins and was the only reliable starter for the entire season. He pitched with the best of them. All of that to say that next year's team will be another good team. We'll be in the hunt until September again.
And really, that's all I ask for. Call me easy-to-please, but whatever. I suffered through the '90s when the Tigers straight up terrible. No other way to put it. So to have a team that fell short this year but was in contention until the last weeks of the season is good enough for me. Baseball matters in Detroit again, and it's awesome to see. I was very bummed when we got eliminated, but I'm good now. Just looking forward to next year.
A Pennant Race on GameCast
I don't have a TV right now, no access to the baseball playoffs. So since August 25, I have not been able to watch a full baseball game. This forces me to watch games and keep updated with ESPN GameCast. It's one of the best inventions ever. I'm an ESPN.com junkie, and this is my favorite feature. Look, I can still see what's happening, stay up-to-date, all in pretty close to realtime.
But the thing has its limitations. Sometimes it'll fall behind, and you'll go from Curtis Granderson up with a 2-2 count to Carlos Guillen hitting a two-run double. That'll freak ya out, especially if it happens when the other team's up to bat. Really, it's one of the most nerve-wracking things is when it's a full count, runners on base, bottom of the ninth, and you're just waiting for the next thing to pop up. All of the sudden "Incoming pitch has been hit into play" shows up. Then the ball comes in. Then the ball goes out of the batters box, getting bigger and bigger, going farther and farther, right to the warning track. Then "Ivan Rodriguez flied out to deep center" shows up. All of that anticipation for nothing. If you were watching it on TV, you could tell it wasn't going out, that it was a relatively routine play. But you can't tell that on GameCast.
All of the strike outs seem the same, all the throws and catches and hits look routine, normal. Like I said, I love me some GameCast, but it's a crappy way to follow the Pennant Race.
Text Messaging
I love text messaging. There's just no other way around it. I am an extremely fast, accurate texter. Probably the best I know. I know, I'm kind of a big deal. Anyway, it's an awesome way to get the basics out, to make plans, to say "hey," to make fun of someone. But I've thought a lot about what I call "Text Messaging Etiquette." Is there proper etiquette to follow, certain rules that should be followed? I think so. Here are some that I've thought of, in no particular order:
- Respond quickly. It's very annoying when you send a text to someone and they take forever to respond. Granted, maybe you can't get to your phone, you're in class, in a meeting, whatever. But at any rate, respond as quickly as possible. It doesn't have to be a verbose, 150 character response, but just get back quickly.
- Avoid the dumb T9 errors. Look, no one's more of a proponent of T9 than I am. I used to text in ABC, and I was pretty darn fast at it. Once I made the switch over to T9, my texting took on a whole new form. I'm a fast typer, too, but my texting with T9 is down right impressive. (Okay, I'll quit bragging). But the thing you have to be careful with T9 is the dumb errors when you don't toggle through the words. For instance, you want to type "don't" but you forget the apostrophe and type "foot." Or, you want "game" but type "hand" instead. Or "book" instead of "cool," "east" instead of "fast." Just read through the text before you send it. Sometimes these little errors can make the incomprehensible.
- Don't argue over text. It's just not good, I promise. Express frustration, tell the person you hate them, but don't argue about it. Wait for a phone call or face-to-face to argue. Texting takes too long for those of you who aren't as talented as I am (haha!), and it's too informal to argue over.
- Don't have deep conversations over text. If it's a most, alright. Better to have an interesting convo over text than to argue, but it's still not ideal.
- Use some punctuation. Look, I'm a grammar nut, so I pretty much use perfect grammar (accept for capitilization) in my texts. I'm not saying you have to be perfect, but at least use periods after sentences. Reading an 120 character text with no punctuation is impossible. You start putting sentences together that aren't together, and it gets more than a little annoying.
- Avoid using all caps. Like on the internet, all caps is interpreted as yelling. If you yell at me over text, I'll get mad. So please, don't use all caps.
- Don't completely ignore texts. I've been guilty of this before. But if you text someone, text them back, even if it's to say "I'm super busy right now...I can't talk." That's much better than nothing at all. Nothing implies you're ignoring or you're dead or you've lost your phone. Chances are none are the case, so just text back.
I think that's it for texting. Hopefully those rules can improve all of our texting etiquette!
Josh Beckett
Okay, James will hate me for this, but I am absoutely diggin' Josh Beckett. He's the modern-day Bob Gibson, Jack Morris. The dude ball's up in October, no question. His game 4 performance was an absolute clinic on October pitching. Eight innings or five-hit, one-run baseball, racking up eleven strikeouts. The dude is filthy. Anytime you can dile up to 97 and paint the black, while dropping your curve off the table, you're unhittable. He has a swagger that shots "There is no way we're losing when I'm on the mound!" Give him two runs and you're set. I can't say enough about this guy. I am thoroughly, thoroughly impressed.
The Colorado Rockies
Look, I can acknowledge how hot the Rockies are. It's amazing. They're playing fundamental baseball in the time of year when guys get freaked out by the pressure, when lesser men would fall short on any give night. But these guys are more than hot right now.
And I don't care. Is that bad? Does it make me a non-baseball fan? I just can't bring myself to jump on the Rockies bandwagon. And trust me, I was looking for a bandwagon to jump. I can't watch sports and not root for someone. So I jumped on the Boston bandwagon. I like the city, like Man Ram and Big Papi, Schilling and Beckett. I just couldn't jump on the bandwagon of a team and I don't care about. At all. They're an awesome team right now, and I'll be proud to say that I watched the most amazing September-October run ever. But I just can't bring myself to really care. Sorry.
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We're done with the list for now. I have a few more things to write about, but quite frankly, I'm running out of time, and I have to wrap this up. College football's in full swing, basketball's coming up, an amazing ALCS series is heading back to Boston, and I'm a giddy sports fan. I can't write that much on this blog because certain restrictions, but I'll try to keep you all posted.
But in the mean time, go out and enjoy some fall weather. Breath in the fresh, crisp autumn air and enjoy the colors of the best season of the year. Root for the college team, choose sides for the World Series, and enjoy life as a sports fan in the real world.
I'll go back to GameCast.
(for those of you that were counting, that was over 1,700 words. I think I deserve some sort of prize.)
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Remembering 9/11
Like everyone else that was cognizant that day, I remember exactly where I was when I found out what happened. I was sitting in tenth grade World History class. My teacher’s wife knocked on the door, and my teacher went out to talk to her. He came back in—stoic-faced and serious—and turned the TV on to the news. One building in flames. We sat there as the story unfolded, as information was gathered. I was fifteen at the time. Translated: nothing really set in. Not yet, at least.
As we sat in class we watched the second plane hit the building. It was surreal, a thing of movies. Was it an accident? Who did it? Why did they do it? Were the two connected? Is this terrorism? No one knew at the time. That was the scariest part—the unknown. We didn’t know what had happened; we just knew that our freedom had taken a massive blow, that our security was somehow breached. That America wouldn’t be the same.
Later in the morning as we were watching the news, we saw the first tower fall. It was another surreal moment. A magnificent building in the biggest city in the most powerful nation in the world was attacked. And it was falling to the ground. Just thinking of the people trapped in the buildings was scary enough. But then the news channels showed people jumping from the tops of the buildings. Faced with being trapped and burning to death or jumping to an immediate demise, some chose the immediacy of jumping. I don’t know what I would have done.
We saw these pictures, these scenes played over and over again. They were being engrained in our minds. As a younger teenager with a moldable mind and relatively innocent from the violence, terrorism, and cruelty of worlds outside of the United States, seeing this was unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. No one would ever think this would actually happen. This was a scenario that would get played out in movies, with the action hero killing the bad guys, steering the plane to safety. Everyone’s safe; nothing ends up happening; it all works out. Now, these plans flying into our buildings—really, our Country, our safe haven—was reality, no longer an implausible plot for an action movie.
As the rest of the day unfolded, more horrifying news was brought to light—the plane that crashed into the Pentagon and the one that crashed in Pennsylvania. Also as the day progressed we learned more about what happened—that it was terrorism, that it was a direct attack on our Country by people who hated us. They didn’t just hate our Country or our President: they hated our way of life. Our beliefs. What we stood for. The very “American-ness” of every person in this Nation.
The next day the death tolls were being estimated, more stories were being told, more horrifying footage was being shown. These next few weeks were some of the most fascinating of my lifetime. Seeing the Nation rally around our President. Seeing all partisanship put aside. Seeing the Flags wave with pride. Seeing genuine sympathy from usually unsympathetic people. Seeing people come together to support a cause.
Patriotism was now the “in thing.” And rightfully so. These terrorists hated our way of living, the American Way. So we Americans stood up tall, shoulders back, nose to the sky and said, “Nothing’s going to keep us down.” We stood resilient, knowing that if we gave way to the terrorists—if we tucked tail and ran, if we cowered in the corner—it would be that much easier to do something like this again. So we stood together, hand in hand, and supported our Country, remembered those lost, and defied those that did this.
But underneath our collective countenance of bravery was a fear. Ever subtle, a certain fear crept into our daily lives. We couldn’t help but look at Middle Easterners in a different way. We couldn’t help but be leery of flying again. These terrorists came into our Country and killed our people. All because they hated us. Of course there was a little fear in everyone. Of course it would affect our daily lives. We would never forget it.
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It’s been six years since 9/11/01. Watching some of the news coverage yesterday, everything was as if it just happened. It was as if I was back in World History class. It was as if it was a normal, innocent fall day back in 2001. And looking back on the events, remembering the pictures, playing the footage over in my mind, I can see how things have changed.
When I fly on planes now, sometimes I don’t think about September 11th. Sometimes I just get on the plane and enjoy the ride. But there are times when I look around me, when I wonder what I would do if something happened. I don’t get mad at the metal detectors anymore, that’s for sure.
But I know that the innocence of my generation has been lost. We haven’t had to fight in a war and defend our Country from the “bad guys.” Pearl Harbor was a history lesson; it was “a day that will live in infamy.” But now my generation witnessed America-haters trying to tear down our Country. We watched them kill innocent Americans. We saw the terrifying scenes of people jumping from buildings, plummeting to their deaths. We heard the heroic stories of fireman and police officers. We witnessed this tragedy, and it affected us. Some enlisted in the Armed Forces, saying “If they’re going to attack our Country, I’m going to do everything in my power to never let this happen again.” Boys became men. No matter how the effects fleshed themselves out, people were affected. My generation and the rest of our Nation were affected.
But on most days—days that aren’t September 11th—I take my freedom for granted. I don’t think about that day when our Country took a punch to the jaw. But yesterday was September 11th, and I was thinking about that day six years ago. Tears welled up in my eyes when we had a moment of silence, remembering the lives lost in this terrible tragedy. I was astonished anew when I watched the footage again. I remembered back to what it was like seeing those images for the first time. The innocence was ripped away from my generation. This was our Pearl Harbor.
And we’ll never forget it. Ever.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
My Ode to Michigan
“What are you going to write about, Chad?” I’m sure you just inquired in your mind. Well, I was involved in a conversation a few days ago that caused me to think about my home state, Michigan. In my mind, I began developing the case for Michigan being an excellent state to live in. Because Michigan’s most well-known city is Detroit—infamous for its gangs, violence, and bedraggled downtown—the state of Michigan often gets a bad rap. I’m writing here today to dispel that bad rap and to paint a picture of Michigan that’s not often seen. So consider this blog “Chad’s View of Michigan.” For those of you who look down on Michigan, aren’t interested in Michigan, or are apathetic towards Michigan, this writing is for you. Please read on, and may your view of this wonderful state be changed forever!
When people ask me if I like Michigan—and after I confirm that, yes, I do indeed like my home state—I tell them first of the weather. That may surprise you, but allow me to explain. People down South love the heat—the sticky, humid, sweltering heat that is there for a good half of the year. People far North enjoy the frigid winters, covered in bounteous amounts of snow for several months. People in California enjoy the same 80 degree, sunny weather every day. I understand that it is common for people to enjoy where they are from. I also understand that everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion about weather. But let me purport that Michigan is best.
The saying I always use is “In Michigan, you get all four seasons.” And I truly mean that. You’re not trapped in the sticky summer months; you’re not bundled up, month after month after month. You get everything in Michigan. You get a beautiful autumn, filled with colors from leaves—you know, the deep auburn, the burnt orange, the rich yellow. Autumn’s colors. It’s the fall, of course, so you get to go out on Saturdays and enjoy the fall at an apple orchard. Or you get to throw on jeans and a sweatshirt and play some football. You make a bonfire at night. Because it’s the fall in Michigan.
Then autumn turns into winter, and the cold winds blow. Yes, it gets cold in Michigan. The winter may come early, it may come late: no one really knows. There’s something special about waking up on a winter morning, peering out the windows and seeing the streets covered with thick, white, fluffy snow. You bundle up, go outside, and begin shoveling. It’s work, but it’s fun. After all, it’s the first snow of the year. Snow on Christmas day trumps everything. Snow makes Christmas feel official, like it really is Christmas. There’s a reason “White Christmas” is a popular movie. People love a white Christmas, and Michigan can give it to you.
Then the snow dries up. Enter: spring. With spring comes baseball season, warm weather, and rejuvenation. After the chilly weather of the winter, the warm sun and fresh smells of spring offer a great change of pace. There’s a certain smell to the spring—that freshness, newness, the dawning of sunnier days. It’s a beautiful spring, and the kids are outside, enjoying the weather, getting some sun, and looking forward to the summer.
The summer comes with heat, sun, and the long, cool evenings. The family barbeques and cookouts, the pool parties and camping trips. Summer baseball, days on the lake, and suntans. Everything about summer in Michigan is nice. As cold as it gets in the winter, the summer gets hot, if that makes sense. Mid- to upper-90s is not uncommon. I mean, we get a real summer. But it’s all in proportion. That’s the thing with Michigan weather: nothing goes on for too long; you never get sick of anything; it’s always changing. All four seasons, baby. All four seasons.
Another thing that I love about Michigan (and I’m from the greater-Detroit area, so keep that in mind) is the blue-collar feel to the state. If you read my post “A Detroiter on Soccer,” you can see the mindset of one Detroiter, me being that one. Detroit is a city built on tough, nose-to-the-grindstone work ethic. You don’t have to have “street cred” to be from Detroit, which is a common misunderstanding of the city. With the auto industry being so prevalent—the plant life, the nuts and bolts of vehicles, the ingenuity, the competition—that same mindset is set in people from Detroit. A drive to be the best, to work hard, to earn a living.
And being a sports fan, you can’t ask for a better city. I’m not a big Lions fan, but NFL football is still a huge draw. The University of Michigan is a premier program with diehards all throughout the state. (Yes, we lost. Yes, we lost to Appalachian St. There, I said it. Moving on.) The Pistons are an amazing organization. We went through a drought in the 90s, but we’re a top team every year. The Red Wings are a great team, and Detroiters actually love hockey. The Tigers are getting back to being a consistent top contender. And as long as Dombrowski’s here, I think we’ll be right up there. So if you’re a sports guy, this is the place for you. Lots of sports, and lots of good sports.
Also, the metro-Detroit area is an amazing mix of many different cultures. There’s Greek town, Mexican town, East Dearborn. There’s everything. Upper-class and lower-class; blue-collar and white-collar; white and black; sprawling farm land and busy streets. Michigan’s got it all.
I could go on and on. I really could. I could talk about the beautiful Great Lakes. I could describe the gorgeous State Parks. I could tell you about the simple, rich farm life. Or I could speak more of the wonderful mix of cultures coming together in one state. Or of the great restaurants everywhere you turn.
I could describe a nice, crisp fall morning for you and your family at an apple orchard. The family spends the day out in the leaves, picking apples, enjoying the beautiful weather in jeans and a sweatshirt, followed by an afternoon watching U of M while eating some great chili. Then I’d take you back to the winter morning, when you first see the snow. I’d tell you about the way my face would light up when I’d see a sheet of white covering my driveway. I’d sit you next to a fireplace on a cold winter night: you’re sitting there wrapped in a blanket, reading a book, sipping coffee, glancing out at the falling snowflakes. Then we’d go out to baseball practice in May. The sun’s back out, the weather’s getting warm, you’re pulling out your t-shirts. You can smell the spring, feel the change, and you’d get excited. Then I think I’d let you join me for a hot, sunny summer day out on the lake. Everyone’s tubing and enjoying the company, enjoying everything the Great Lakes have to offer, getting sun burnt, and having fun.
If you went with me to all of those places during all of those times, Michigan would grow on you. Michigan doesn’t always take your breath away at first sight. When you stay up there, live up there for a while and get into the culture, the feel of the city, that’s when you get hooked. When you see all of the seasons and understand the mindset and follow the sports and enjoy the scenery. That’s when it makes sense; that’s when you realize why it’s a great state.
That’s when you’ll understand why I love Michigan.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
My Tigers
This has not been an easy time to be a Tigers fan. Last summer was easy. Very easy, really. Being a kid in the ‘90s, there was nothing pleasant about the Tigers. I remember Cecil Fiedler hitting 51 homeruns in ’90, but that was about it for Tigers highlights. We had no star power; we weren’t winning; there wasn’t anything exciting. That’s the team I grew up watching.
And kind of unfortunately, baseball was the first sport that I loved. I started playing when I was five years old. I was just a little tike out there, but I played a lot – and I mean a lot – of baseball. So naturally, I grew to love baseball the most. I played hockey and basketball and football for fun in the summer, but baseball was the sport I really loved. The reason I said that was unfortunate was because growing up a baseball fan, I had to be a Tigers fan. That, indeed, was unfortunate. Being a kid that played baseball all of the time, I didn’t have a good home team.
From 1994 to 2005, the Tigers didn’t have a winning season. Put another way, from when I was 8 until when I was 19, a Tigers winning season was a foreign thought to me. It would never happen – the Tigers always lost. Going to the Tigers game was fun only because going to baseball games was fun. It wasn’t that I was so happy to go see my Tigers; I was just happy to go to a baseball game. I was still a young Tigers fan; they were the team I cheered for; they were my hometown team. But still. How excited can you get for a 119-loss team? Does that inspire anybody? Does anyone think, “More likely than not the Tigers will lose tonight … I can’t wait to watch them!”?
I don’t care how die-hard of a fan you are; I don’t care if you’re a baseball purist and/or elitist – nobody thinks that. And I sure didn’t think that. But I say all of that to say that last year – when it came out of nowhere, when the Tigers started winning, when we finally had a baseball team – it was easy to get behind that, easy to support that team. They were a unique team, no doubt. A great mix of veterans and youngsters, the teams won in every way imaginable. They hung tough with the good teams; they blew out the bad teams. Our pitchers would come through in the close games; our hitters swung us into victories in the slugfests. It was a fun, fun team to watch.
This year, they’re still fun to watch. They started off the year very well, reminiscent of last year’s team. We had great pitching, great hitting, great star players, great role players. It began a season that would take us as far as last year, only that one step further. The addition of Gary Shefffield proved to be the boost that our lineup needed, a great hitter in the three-spot. Kenny Rogers was injured, but Jeremy Bonderman and Justin Verlander kicked it up a notch. Magglio was having a dream year. This was a fun team. This was a great team in the making.
Then came the second half.
For whatever reason the Tigers have entered a slump of epic proportions. And that isn’t hyperbolic language, folks. We haven’t won a series since our July 17-19 sweep of the Minnesota Twins. Translated: we haven’t taken a series in over a month. This team with a killer offense, a potent pitching staff, a competent bullpen, and a fearless leader has slumped unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
As I’ve said this team just doesn’t have the same feel as last year. I’m not saying that’s bad or that it has anything to do with the team: I’m just saying that there’s definitely a different feel and dynamic to this team. Last year, things went our way. All of our pitchers stayed healthy. None of our marquee position players went out with injuries. We never went into a giant slump like this – we went over little bumps, not endless slumps (sorry for corny rhyme; please, read on).
If we were trailing in the bottom of the ninth, you just felt that we were going to win. This year, if we’re up by three going into the eighth, I’m uncomfortable. I’m crossing my fingers, rubbing my rabbit’s foot, holding my breath, hoping the bullpen will hold the lead. Some of the problem’s mental, I presume. Baseball is a long, grueling season, and when the dog days of summer come upon a good team it’s tough. But when the dog days of summer – those long, hot, humid days that never end – come upon a slumping team, already ailing, tired pitchers are crippled; worn out players are exhausted; minor injuries become difficult to overcome.
This is something that makes baseball unique. It’s played outside in the hottest months of the year. Players get a day off here and there, but nothing enough to truly rest an aching knee, hamstring, elbow, or back. And when the players are frustrated from not winning, they have to go back out the next day, overcome the physical problems that come with playing such a long season, and in the mid-90s heat of a sweltering August day, go out and compete in a mentally-taxing game against a team that just happens to be playing well at that point. That’s baseball for a slumping team. No fun. No fun, at all.
But it can change just like that (I just snapped my fingers, if you can imagine). A big homerun. A lights-out performance from a starter. An in-your-face speech from the manager. And just like that the season’s back on track. The team realizes what’s at stake; the heat doesn’t seem so unbearable; the injuries seem to go away. Now we’re playing baseball. We’re in the pennant race.
And that’s where the Tigers are at. Though we’re slumping, we’re still in the hunt for the Central Division. As I have said, we have not played good, solid baseball. But neither have the Indians. When we’ve slumped, they’ve slumped. They have failed to put separation from their division rivals. Great teams don’t let opportunities like that slip away. They may hang on and win the Division; that’s possible. But they may have let us hang around just a bit too long.
I’m not sure why – and this may just be me being a Tigers slappy – but I feel like we’re going to turn it around soon. It may be the two big wins here at Comerica over the Yankees. It may be the recurring thought of, we can’t play this poorly much longer, can we? It may be that we have the best manager in baseball. It may be that down the stretch, in the race for the pennant, I feel like our guys will step it up, like they did last year in the playoffs. Though nothing’s indicating great play in the near future, I’m saying watch out.
My Tigers are not finished.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Annoying People (Sports Style)
Seeing that I like to watch sports and that I do watch a lot of sports, there are things that annoy me about viewing sports with people. Certain things that people do or certain ways people act. Or maybe something in the environment or setting's wrong. Well, I thought I'd use this post to describe some of the people that annoy/frustrate/irritate me during sports viewing.
(NOTE: I was going to write about the Tigers. I was pumped about their win last night, the return of Zumaya, the great bullpen pitching. Then we played tonight. Another crappy outing by our starter, followed by horrendous relief pitching. We scored eight runs and still lost by three. Frustrating, frustrating, frustrating. I'm not being a pessimist here or anything, but can I just state the fact this year has a totally different feel than last year? Every time our bullpen comes out, it's a, "Oh crap. Please, please please, just try and hold the lead tonight. I don't want to go to bed sad." We're not getting the same big hits that we got last year; the bounces aren't going our way. It's a different year, and not for the better. Please, Tigers, play better! There. Got that out of my system).
So I thought today I'd give my list of types of some of the people that annoy me during the viewing of a sporting event. In no particular order, they are as follows:
- The talker. Don't get me wrong, I don't like silence when we're watching games. I like passionate cheering and interesting discussion. It's just the person that's talking constantly. Sometimes it's about the game, sometimes it's about whatever. But either way, there's this voice talking and talking and talking all throughout the game. That's annoying. And it kind of segues into the next annoyance . . .
- The non-sports fan. Usually, the people that are talking away all game are the people that don't like sports -- they're just there to be supportive of their significant other or some other lame reason. This person's usually talking to the other non-sports fan during the whole game. What's bad is when those to start distracting the real sports fans. Then it's just down hill from there. Constant stupid chatter about clothes or shopping or something else. Ugh.
- The know-it-all that doesn't know it all. Look, if you don't know a lot about sports, don't try and act like you do. This is the person that "knows" something about everything, but not really anything about anything. That make sense? It's the person that makes a comment about a sport or team or player, followed by the rest of the group looking at each other with a "What?" look. At least this person's into the game and likes sports, but please, stay within your limits. Don't talk like you know when you don't know. I'll be honest, I don't know as much about football as I do about baseball and basketball. So I don't talk like I do. Just know your limitations, people. Know your limitations.
- The disinterested girlfriend of one of The Guys. This can be one of the first two people. Usually, this is in a group setting: a lot of people are getting together to watch a big playoff game so Jim has to hang out with Susie, and it's annoying all night long because she could care less about the game, and Jim has to constantly explain elementary things to her, which is annoying to hear. Plus, she's usually trying to pull him away to play pool or Foosball or to get something to eat. Inevitably, Jim goes away, leaving his manhood on the couch. Please, disinterested girlfriend, leave him alone for this two and a half hour stretch of sports. Thanks.
- The story teller. This guy can be entertaining a lot of the time, but he can also be very annoying. He's the guy (brother to The Talker) that has a story for any possible situation, any sport. If you're talking golf, he's hit three hole-in-ones. Football, he's taken the biggest hit. Basketball, he's hit six threes in a row. Baseball, he's thrown a no-hitter. Or at least he's seen each of these and can tell him in great detail. All throughout the game, he's telling some story. But at least it's sports-related.
- The one-upper. This guy's a brother to The Story Teller and The Talker. Also, this person is pervasive throughout all of life, all social situations, all very annoying. No matter what cool stat you just gave, what amazing story you recounted, what out-of-this-world feat was accomplished, this dude's done better. It's amazing . . . amazingly annoying. He's always slightly better; his stories are just that much more "out there." He can be fun for the whole group, but he is a total kill-joy for the previous story tell or fact-stater. Plus, this guy's usually an ego maniac that just has to be a little better than everyone else. Very, very annoying.
I think that wraps up my list for now. I'm sure there are more that I can think of, but I don't want to come across like too much of a downer. For guys, we like to watch sports. We like to make fun of each other, make fun of the opposing team, argue about sports, eat a lot of a food, and make noises we shouldn't make. Sorry, but it's true. And this isn't all throughout life, in every situation. But there's something about plopping down on the couch for a three hour football game that just brings out the different side of guys. It's quite funny, really.
One of the people that I said bothered me is the Disinterested Girlfriend of One of The Guys. What's really great is when the girlfriend (or whatever girl) is actually interested, when she actually knows something about the sport. She doesn't have to be a know-it-all (and it probably wouldn't be good if she was), but if you can tell she's genuinely interested or that she actually cares about the game, it's a great thing. Or, if she just watches the game intently, asking certain questions (not stupid questions) throughout. This shows she's paying attention -- not bored to death, dreaming of shopping. Guys usually have to make it a "guys night" to watch a playoff basketball game. It's a great, wonderful, very cool thing when you can have a mixed party and your girlfriend is the only one that's not annoying everyone else to death.
Make a mental note of that, ladies.