The Detroit Tigers are Decadent and Depraved

While many cyber-laureates of the blogosphere – like, most specifically, my half-crazed colleague Kenneth R. Haddad – boobishly bubble over the Detroit Tigers’ “optimistic” 2009 prospects, I cannot help but half-heartedly crawl into an isolated corner – whichever one A-Rod’s inhabiting – at the thought of the calamities about to be conceived in Comerica Park this summer.

Admittedly, the pitching staff has improved; by comparison, though, the addition of Edwin Jackson will look sterling when Dontrelle Willis has an ERA higher than Michael Phelps, Jeremy Bonderman spends half the season in an iron-lung (or cast for whatever he did to himself), and Todd Jone’s columns for the Detroit Free Press get more press time than his sub-par statistics. Save for Verlander, the Tigers’ pitching arsenal is like Cynthia Rodriguez’s collection of Madonna paraphernalia: lacking.

Even more pitiful, perhaps, is the catching corps: Gerald Lair? Matt Treanor?? Dusty Ryan??? Not even a steady progression of question marks can capture the vapidity of the aforementioned trio. Everyone knows that Pudge’s ego was more inflated than his steroid-based stats, but at least he provided solid defense and leadership behind the plate. Laird developed a somewhat reputable name while with the Rangers (not the ice-skating variety of New York); unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Matt Treanor –who’s better known for his marriage to Misty May Treanor – and Dusty Ryan, who, up until this point, has yet to be acquainted with baseball.

And hopefully Jim Leyland was fired during the writing of previous paragraphs.
Perhaps most optimistic is the outfield, anchored by the face of franchise (not you, Rodney)- Curtis Granderson. Magglio still has three or four years of solid production, but it would be foolish to think he’s not shopping for a better situation outside the 313. The biggest question mark is Carlos Guillen, who, despite having been an All Star in his own rite, has yet to be tested outside of the infield. Put in Sheff, or, as he’s commonly known in culinary circles, Gary.

Bottom line: start buying tickets to the Shock. Because the Tigers certainly won’t be making a playoff run.

(above: bad tiger; below: good tiger)