I’ve worn my Magglio jersey tee, my newish, frayed brim, Tigers hat, and a giant Tigers Hulk hand for two straight days. I might look and smell like James Van Horne. I’ve been known to incessantly shout “Eat ’em up Tigers” over the past couple days, too.
Truth is, Tigers play game 163 today for the AL Central championship against the Twins, a do or die, win or go home, win or lose and still hear more about Miguel Cabrera’s drinking problems game that means everything — and I”m nervous/excited as can be.
I’ve been sweating profusely for the past three hours, I haven’t eaten all day, and my palms are about as sweaty and rosie as Pee Wee Herman’s in a late night movie. I went to class today, only to be stared at and ridiculed by my peers, and judged by my professors. While my criminal law teacher was discussing manslaughter, all I could think about was Placido Polanco choking up and slicing an outside fastball to right to bring in the winning runs. Death to the ‘dome. When my evidence teacher was talking about Rule 601, I could only think about competently witnessing the Tigers celebrating on that dreaded turf field as Jason Kubel and Joe Mauer cry.
Baseball is the best game in America and I couldn’t ask for much else from my Tigers. They’ve exceeded expectations this year and have given a die-hard fan like myself, and many others in Detroit, the ability to watch winning baseball for only the 3rd time in the past two decades. It’s a glorious experience and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Let’s go get the job done and continue on to the playoffs!
Oops, I have to go change my pants. I just wet myself. Game time in 50 minutes now!! Ahh!!!
GO TIGERS! Eat ’em up!
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