Alright, I love the Tigers. They’re young. They’re winning. They’re old-timey. They play in a city people only speak of in whispers. (Seriously—when’s the last time you had a conversation about Detroit? An out-loud conversation?) Now, they have beef with the White Sox?
Love it. You know Tony La Russa couldn’t sleep last night. Came out this morning looking as tired and frantic as that author character from Stranger Than Fiction. Stewing all night over how to get his vengeance against Alex Lange. It’s good for the Sox that they play the Tigers this weekend, because otherwise you just know La Russa wouldn’t be able to focus on October baseball. He’d be poring over the Cactus League schedule. He’d be trying to find ways to disguise himself and get to Florida, where the Tigers will be come March. He’d have one of those Charlie Kelly walls except it’d be real and it’d be tracking the whereabouts of various figures in the Detroit baseball organization. Jim Leyland would be calling him and he would NOT be picking up.
