In sports, everybody is a winner—some people just win better than others. Like Curtis Granderson, who no longer has to carry the hopes and dreams of a shattered city on his shoulders. Plus, there's less running to do.

The Yankees, Tigers and Diamondbacks are inching oh so ever closer to a maybe possible not there just yet—almost got it!; no, not quite!—but definitely a done deal that will have multiple baseball players calling the moving company. At the center is Granderson, the heart of Detroit's late-decade resurgence into respectability. The player who seemed birthed specifically to bat leadoff and patrol the gigantic centerfield acreage of Comerica Park for the rest of his days. Instead, he's just another Starting Lineup figurine to be placed on George Steinbrenner's beautiful oak shelves.


Oh, sure the Tigers are being well-compensated for their troubles and contract extensions, blah blah. Maybe it's not a fire sale, maybe it's not exactly the rich robbing the poor. (More like the ultrarich taking from the slightly less rich.) But it sure feels like it. Everybody likes Granderson. He could have been the face of the Tigers for many, many years ... a nice respectable, un-juiced, non-wife beating guy—and now ... just like that ... he's a fucking Yankee. Good for him.


Honorable Mention: The Memphis Grizzlies. Seriously, they actually won something. Savor it, fellas.