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If we've learned anything about Octobers the last few years, it's that the month tests, stretches and hones every aspect of loyalty fandom. Typically, we pretty much just tell our friends that we'll see them sometime in November. It's a stressful time.

Therefore, to adequately preview the madness that is the baseball playoffs, we've invited some of our favorite bloggers for each of the eight playoff teams to write about their teams, similar to our NFL Season Previews. No sport has better individual team blogs than baseball, and these writers are some of our favorites.

These will be running all day today, and we very much hope you enjoy them.

Up right now: The Detroit Tigers. Your writer is Andrew Stout.

Andrew Stout, who is "strikingly handsome," runs the Tigers blog Mickey Tettelton Memorial Overpass. His words are after the jump.



Detroit, September 2005:

Tigers general manager Dave Dombrowski surveys another disappointing season in Tigertown from his luxury suite high above Comerica Park. A season that started with so much promise has fallen into disarray. High priced free agent additions Troy Percival and Magglio Ordonez and fellow All-Star Carlos Guillen represent the walking wounded; the clubhouse has split into warring factions after former Tigers great and current manager Alan Trammell's authority was undermined publicly by malcontent catcher Ivan Rodriguez; the pristine Comerica Park, which shines as a beacon of hope and revitalization within the post-apocalyptic surroundings of downtown Detroit, sits half empty on this cold and drizzly early autumn night. Fans are so disenchanted after more than a decade of losing that they openly lament losing Ugueth Urbina, the psychotic set-up man who set his ranch hands after attacking them with a machete, in a trade deadline deal. Things are bleak.


After watching Nook Logan unsuccessfully attempt to bunt for a basehit for a third consecutive time Dombrowski retires inside his suite, checks the waiver wire and pours himself a snifter of brandy before settling in for the evening. While mulling over whether he should place a claim on Vic Darensbourg, Dombrowski realizes it's getting increasingly chilly inside his luxury box and walks over to turn the heat up before finding, much to his horror, that the thermostat is already set to 80 degrees. Oh no.

Behind him the doorknob turns slowly and in walks pizza mogul/owner/vampire Mike Ilitch followed by his pack of snarling wolves. Dombrowski doesn't have the courage to turn around and face his mercurial, hermetic boss but he can feel the icy breath of Count Ilitch on his neck. "I brought you here to change this." Mr. Ilitch whispers in a raspy snarl as one of his wolves walks menacingly through Dombrowski's legs. "You've got one year to fix this." With those chilling words, Mr. Ilitch disappears back to his lair in the deep recesses of Comerica Park. Shaken, Dombrowski puts down his snifter and walks towards the field — only to witness Carlos Pena strike out for the fourth time. He knows there's only one man who can help him.

Just outside Pittsburgh, a man whose looks belie his age gets up to greet a beautiful crisp, early October morning with his first flavorful Marlboro of the day. He's 61, married to a young nubile wife, two beautiful children, had a successful career and is wealthy beyond his wildest imagination. Life is good.


Bang! Bang! Startled the dashing gray haired man answers the door to find a disheveled teen with an ashen face. "There's an urgent telegram for Mr. Leyland s-s-s-sir," the kid stammers. "Thank you." Leyland says as he turns the blank envelope over and opens it.

Detroit needs you.

It's a short message, but Leyland can sense the desperation in his old friend and knows he must temporarily set aside everything he's worked so hard to achieve to assist Mr. Dombrowski. Leyland accepts the position and, knowing the game and players have changed dramatically in the few years he's been away, wants to communicate with his new charges in a way that won't seem archaic and out of touch. After donning his smoking jacket, he sits down in front of the most modern machine in his house, and after much frustration and manual consultation, writes a letter on his brand new Remington Model 17 typewriter, makes 30 copies with the mimeograph machine and mails them on the first zeppelin out of Altoona. And then all is good.



Sorry for the lengthy introduction, but in my years as a Tigers fan I've always found it easier to dramatize the events surrounding the organization than to face the actual truth that the Tigers were rotting from the inside out and were years away from contention.

But this season, for the first time in my conscious memory, there will be no need to make up fictitious tales to justify pouring my heart and soul into following a losing team because the Tigers have qualified for the playoffs ... as A.L. Central Division Champions no less!


Woo-hoo!!! Bring on the Oakland A's. Time to avenge the loss of the '72 ALCS. Joe Rudi can go to hell and take Gene Tenace with him. Comerica Park will be rocking for its first ever playoff game just like those Mark Fidrych games they run ESPN Classic at 3 a.m., where Tiger Stadium's foundation was shaking.

Barry Zito doesn't have a chance in Game 1. He'll leave the field having made Rick Ankiel look like Greg Maddux. And to celebrate this return to glory we'll dance on Charles O. Finley's grave. Ha ha ha! Wait ... someone's trying to tell me something, this had better be important ... uh huh ... oh ... well that changes everything.

I've just been informed that the Tigers didn't win the A.L. Central because they failed to beat the Omaha Royals ONE TIME this weekend, so that lengthy A's-Tigers preview I spent all of Friday writing becomes moot. Awesome.


Without further ado, the Detroit Tigers Playoff Preview.


Jeremy Bonderman

Best Case: Goes 4-0 with an ERA of 2.00, establishes himself as one of the premier young pitchers in the A.L. and signs a long term extension to anchor the Tigers rotation heading into the next decade.


Worst Case: One Carlos Guillen error leads to an unearned run and his implosion. He screams into his glove so much his ears start bleeding, throws 30 straight sliders in the dirt before his arm detaches from his body at the elbow in the third inning. Afterwards he enrolls in the Steve Blass Recovery Clinic.

Fernando Rodney

Best: Finds a reliable fastball to go with his devastating change-up and, combined with Zumaya, shuts down the late innings and bridges the gap to Todd Jones.


Worst: Comes into Game 1 at Yankee Stadium with a two-run lead, plunks six straight batters, paces around infield, squats down, soils himself, walks off mound, through the clubhouse and into the ether only to resurface 15 years later in the Mexican League under the alias Rodney Fernando.

Joel Zumaya

Best: Becomes a young, dominant, late inning, postseason sensation in the line of Mariano Rivera and K-Rod. Sets record for most shattered bats in a postseason.


Worst: Lets fame from local Comcast High Speed Internet commercial go to his head, shows up to Yankee Stadium in a fur coat surrounded by floozies and tells Tigers he's leaving team to pursue acting career in Ron Popeil infomercials.

Craig Monroe

Best: Hits two walk-off homeruns in the playoffs and establishes himself as the most clutch fourth outfielder in all of baseball for whatever the hell that's worth.


Worst: Ventures into Macy's while on an off day in New York, puts on 10 really nice belts, walks out the door without paying, tackled by security, scuffle, punch, more scuffling, mace, attemps to grab gun, spends night in the pokey and misses decisive Game 5.

Carlos Guillen

Best: Has a breakout postseason and establishes himself as one of the top shortstops in the A.L. along side Derek Jeter, Michael Young, and Miguel Tejada. Re-ups with Tigers this off-season for reasonable price.


Worst: Feels really inconvenienced that he has to play for two more weeks in October, and since he can't help but hit .300, starts throwing potential double play balls into rightfield leading to aforementioned Bonderman meltdown.


Chien Ming Wang

Best Case: Gets the free swinging Tigers to pound EVERY SINGLE sinking fastball he throws into the ground, never reaches a one-ball count, and throws a complete game, three-hit shutout in 61 pitches.


Worst Case: N/A. The best case scenario I laid out above is happening, there's no stopping it nor denying it. He could be carried off the mound by a decrepit Yogi Berra, he has that much Don Larsen potential against this Tigers team.


Best: Gets Yankee fans off his back with a big playoff series that includes a clutch hit in Game 5 that ends in a long, meaningful, embrace with Jason Giambi at home plate.


Worst: Goes 3-4 in Game 1 rout at Yankee Stadium but strikes out once with two outs and a guy on first, which leads to a chorus of boos and a shower of D batteries. Suffers psychotic break and plays the rest of the series with purple lipstick smeared all over his face, holding his bat upside down and sobbing uncontrollaby.

Derek Jeter

Best: Leads Yankees to World Series victory and further cements his status as one of the greatest Yankees to ever put on the pinstripes.


Worst: Goes 0-22 as Yankees are eliminated in first round. Still universally loved by Yankee fans. Sleeps on a pile of money with many beautiful ladies. God I hate this man.

Kyle Farnsworth

Best: Plays great and gets rid of past playoff ghosts. Proves a set-up man is really worth 18 million dollars.


Worst: Called on to pitch a day game while still hung over from partying the night before. Gives up three-run homer and chokes away the lead after throwing cutesy breaking ball that ends up in the black seats. Leaves mound, breaks both hands punching the air conditioner, throws chairs onto the field, tries to goad Nate Robertson into a fight before setting himself on fire.

Finally, I think it's great for baseball that the Tigers and Yankees are meeting in the playoffs. Two of the A.L.'s oldest franchises, both steeped in history, with amazing fans, squaring off against each other for the first time in the postseason. The Yankees an organization known for its winning, epitomized by legendary alcoholics like Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle and Billy Martin, against a Tigers franchise with a history of upstanding character guys like Ty Cobb, Ron LeFlore and Denny McLain will finally play meaningful games against each other in October. All the celebrities will be out to witness this historical clash from Jack Nicholson, Denzel Washington, Spike Lee in New York to ... ummm ... does Jeff Daniels count? Yes., Jeff Daniels in Detroit. My completely biased prediction is the Tigers take it in 4.