Brandon Inge - The End Of An Enigma

Well, this is likely the end of the Brandon Inge era in Detroit.


Inge has accepted an assignment to Toledo … to take one final shot at continuing his professional career in the bigs. An assignment he is unlikely to return to Detroit from.

I am an Inge fan.

I would have rather he retired.

I would have rather on the return from the All Star break, that Brandon just step up to the microphone and said:

“Thanks guys, it’s been great. Baseball has been very very good to me. I will miss the game and the fans and wearing the Old English D, but it’s time I move on. I have purchased a ranch and my family and I will now enjoys a comfortable life raising llamas and camels we will donate to underdeveloped nations”

A couple of tears, a couple of hugs from teammates and managers and executives … a wave … and … goodbye.

That would have been classier. And it probably would have been added to the list recent Tiger emotional moments.

And he would have gained the a little bit of that respect back from those fans that are gladly holding the door open now for Inge to walk out.

But that opportunity is gone, and Brandon will likely fade away – out of sight and out of mind of Tiger fans. Back to riding team buses and carrying his own bags in hopes of creeping his average back up to .240 and that a call may one day come saying “The team needs you Brandon, you’re the only guy that can help us now …”

Of course, by accepting the Toledo assignment, Brandon still has a chance to return to Detroit. Should Inge go to Toledo and suddenly hit .310 off of Triple A pitching. And Wilson Betemit gets hurt. And Kelly gets hit by lightning.

And the Tigers are by then past the July 31 trade deadline.

But Inge is now hitting .177.

It’s almost impossible to hit .177. A check swing single now and then should at least get you to .180.

And he does average twenty or so errors a season. Inge was not a golden glover by any means. But he did come through with some of the best highlight reel plays of the last ten years. Diving catches behind third – throwing on his knees – before they were broken – to first – to nab a speedy runner just before their foot came down on the base.

Great stuff – the kind of plays we watch baseball to see.

I can’t think of another player who inspired such fan loyalty with such unimpressive numbers – the kind of loyalty that had fans voting him the player of the game when he didn’t really do anything but maybe bare hand a bunt down the third baseline and toss out the runner.

Love him or hate him, Inge is an enigma in Detroit. I looked it up:

e•nig•ma  [uh-nig-muh]


1. a puzzling or inexplicable occurrence or situation


2. a person of puzzling or contradictory character

There was a picture of Brandon next to the definition. Okay, I made that up – but there should be.

Brandon is like the kid down the street that you hope does well, and because the fans liked him so much and seemed to identify with him so much – a really good play by Inge was interpreted to be an amazing play that human beings can’t make. Add to that – a batter hitting .240 who steps up in the ninth inning once or twice and hits a game winning homer or drives in a game winning run.

But he didn’t get those kinds of hits very often. But Inge fans might tell you he did it all the time. Inge might tell you so as well.

Then there was Brandon’s appearance in the 2009 All Star Home Run Derby – after being voted in by fans like me typing crazy codes into a computer screen for several days in a row – often neglecting family and personal hygiene in the process – only to cringe to hear Inge was going to participate in the homer bashing contest meant for names like Pujols and Cabrera and the likes – then to shrink into utter embarrassment for Inge as he barely hits a softly tossed pitch out of the infield.

Remember that? I know you do. That action right there redefined Inge to me.

The guy does have an ego … as well as an undeniable case of the “delusions of grandeur”.

And you know – Brandon was never the same after that. And then the knee surgeries that he never quite recovered from

But ya still liked the guy.

Anytime I went to Comerica Park, I always saw Inge signing autographs along the field line – or after a game through the security bars on the other side of the street as the other Tiger players hopped in their Maseratis or Lamborghinis and pulled out of the player’s parking lot – leaving the day’s game behind them.

And then there was his involvement in the community – visiting sick kids in hospitals – a truly heart wrenching activity to be sure – and lending his face, name, and presence to various charitable foundations and organizations in the area.

Of course fans love him.

They rooted harder for Inge than any other Tiger in the last twenty years.

And I for one do not want to take that part of Brandon Inge’s legacy away.

It’s one thing to be the greatest third baseman of all time like Brooks Robinson, An achievement that Inge never came close to.

But it’s another to be ranked up there with the most loved players possibly in Tigers history – with names like Kaline , Horton, Fidrych, Trammel and Gibson – a goal Inge reached in some inexplicable manner seemingly with ease.

And in the long run – which is more important – even in the game of baseball?

And by indicators shown by Inge – that love was mutual.

Hang On Baby, Here Comes Part Two

While we are slightly more than half way through this 2011 season, the All Star Break is pretty much viewed as the mid season intermission in Major League Baseball.

And if you thought the first half of 2011 was a roller coaster, well brace yourself my friend – because you ain’t seen nothing yet.

In a nutshell, the first half unfolded something like this.

The Tiger’s stunk, then they were great, then they stunk again, and then they were great again, and closing into the end they stunk and were just on the brink of being great aagian.

Did ya get all that?

The difference between this Tigers team and that of 2006 is that we have more great players, and we have more not-so-great players.

On the great side – we lead off with a powerfiul 1-2-3 combination of Justin Verlander, Miguel Cabrera and Alex Avila along with Jhonny Peralata and Victor Matinez. And Brennan Boesch’s name should be added to this list as well.

Man, that does sound pretty good, don’t it?

And even though Jose “Papa Grande” Valverde has scared the bejesus out of Tiger Fans with ninth inning walks and hits – he hasn’t blown a save yet. He’s got the best stats in the American Leagues.

Really? Let me check that again … yup – son of a gun he does so.

Counter that with Old Man Maglio Ordenez, and his checkers partner Brandon Inge – along with decent bat but no glove Ryan Raburn, I just don’t seem to have it because I’m in my sophomore slum Austin Jackson, and Brad Penny and Phil “hey I’m not in the starting rotation no more” Coke throwing 4th and 5th in the rotation.

We are watching the changing of the guard right now as we witness the final games of Ordonez, Inge, and Carlos Guillen – should he ever come back up from Toledo.

Let me put it this way. Cleveland was supposed to be in a rebuilding year (exactly like our Tigers of 2006 were), and this was supposed to be the do-or-die season for our Detroiters.

But right now our Tigers are in more of a transition state than probably any other team in the Major Leagues. Manager Jim Leyland and and President / GM Dave Dombrowski are struggling to find answers for second, third, and the last two spots in the rotation.

And our bull pen has not been … stellar.

But there is hope Tiger fans. Indeed, there is always hope. But this hope is not so far removed.

We have some good players who slumped in the second quarter . Guys like Max Scherzer – who in the opening weeks was challenging Verlander for the title of Ace. And Rick Porcello has started picking up his end of the slack in his last two starts. Austin Jackson is much better than he has shown in the first half and hopefully he will rebound and return to his stellar “Curtis Granderson who?” form. Danny Worth and Don Kelly could both start to grow from their current 4A status into major leaguers.

And then there is the looming July 31 trade deadline. What the heck is going to happen there? A second baseman? A thirdbaseman? Reyes of the Mets? Baker of Chicago? If so, who do the Tigers sacrifice? Boesch?

As I sit here and type this now, the dastardly bastards that are the Chicago White Sox are about to start play here at Comerica Park. Verlander is to kick off the second half against Gavin Floyd. Miguel Cabrera is in the line up – although Austin Jackson is not.

And we always count on Verlander for a win. But now we are into the second half?

The Tigers have not played the second half of a season above .500 for the last ten years. The last five since we have called Jim Leyland “Skip”.

So all statistics from April until now go right out the window. The Tigers are starting fresh with a clean slate and a tie for first place with Cleveland.

And Chicago and Minnesota are not to be counted out just yet – not by a longshot.

Man, this is gonna be good.

Let’s just hope for a happier ending in 2011.

The Biggest Blowout I Ever Almost Saw

This Tigers fan went to the ball game yesterday.

For the sake of my own historical archives, it was San Francisco’s second game in the D after a great close game the night before blown by Papa Grande in the top of the ninth.

But last night’s game was a blowout.

In more ways than one. And it was not that great of an experience from start to end.

But I can only blame the Tigers for the end.

It was parrot-head day at Comerica Park. It was Jimmy Buffet day – complete with flip flops and margaritas and flowery shirts … and a typhoon.

But no Jimmy Buffet.

I thought he was going to sing the national anthem and perhaps sing at the seventh inning stretch.

The game sold out and we missed getting a free hat by twenty minutes. My lovely wife Darlene was very disappointed. We were trying the day before to get tickets on line – and the seats kept evaporating leaving us to the very top row in the bleachers directly behind home plate.

We marched all the way up there – stopping several times so that Dar could recuperate her back and legs to continue the journey up – we let the sherpas go at the final flight, radioed to base camp our status and plugged in our oxygen masks to reach the summit.

Our tickets said section 329 row 20 seats 24 and 25. The very last row at the top and our seats weren’t on the isle – they were in the isle. If people were walking up and down the isle – you couldn’t see the plate.

“I think we’re in section 328 not 329”, said Dar pointing over her shoulder.

She was right. We were one section off. We both leaned forward to look down the row to our seats in 329 and came to the conclusion that two college kids were busy drinking beer and eating pizza in our seats.

“Let’s stay here until someone comes to claim these”, I said.

“What if they do? Do we go kick those guys out of our seats?”

I looked down the aisle again. “I don’t think those seats are worth fighting for”, I said.

The game started with Scherzer on the mound. It was great … until he threw the first pitch.

The inning consisted of a bloop shot over second into right for a runner, then a line drive shot a Cabrera which he dove for and knocked down, but Scherzer couldn’t beat the runner to first.

Then a home run. A three run shot to left just over the Tigers bullpen.

Then a bobbled ball behind first by Raburn for a safe call as Ryan couldn’t pick it up and throw it in time.

Then another home run – this time to right field.

The score was now five to nothing.

That’s when the nice couple with tickets for our seats appeared – having just radioed base camp and releasing their sherpa’s from duty.

I explained our situation as we moved out of their way, and they were nice enough.

“It’s pretty pathetic when you get kicked out of the worst seats in the stadium”, I laughed to the fellow as they settled into our spots.

Dar and I ventured down from the top of Comerica Park. The game was out of hand already. So we would walk around the stadium and peek in here and there. Darlene wanted some souvenirs.

I just wanted a shirt – a pair of sleeves with the old English D on the breast. No such shirt could be found. Shortly after – we found ourselves standing in front of and leaning on the marble base that supports the bronze statue of Willie Horton in center field. Darlene had come to know Mr. Horton – who is an incredibly nice and generous man – in her course of professional duties. In fact he even signed my daughter Alannah’s very first little league baseball card of herself – which caught Darlene by surprise as she only meant to show it to him … “What are you doing?” she gasped as he ran his pen across Alannah’s face” … one of my all time favorite stories.

The feeble Tigers defense continued – as we watched two innings finish by Giant double plays.

That’s when we noticed the monstrous sky appearing over the horizon behind the first base line side of the stadium. Lightning crackling across the sky – and we headed for the main concourse behind home plate for coverage.

The storm hit fast and the storm hit hard …. And the field was cleared and covered within moments.

The winds whipped – and we found ourselves standing between a young family, the father sitting with a baby curled under him the mother to one side, and Dar and I on the other to protect the infant from flying debris.

Everything was flying around and the people in the crowd stayed calm but you could feel the concern – which outweighed the feeling of inconvenience of a rain delay.

That lasted for nearly two hours of standing there.

We walked more around the concourse trying to read the skies. It was an ugly green then an orange. It looked like there was no way they could finish this game – now only three and a half innings completed.

I was praying for a rainout.

We finally decided it was safe to head for the car – parked four blocks away. The rain had stopped – but it was going to start again. And once in the car, it did indeed again start to pour.

We made our way back to the tunnel to cross back to the other Land of the Free and just as reached the hole under the river – the radio crackled that the tarp was coming off the field.

The storm really hit Windsor hard – downing power wires and trees and flooding. The power was out for more than two hours. We reached our Legion to check out a new band when we saw the score read 15-1.

“I’m glad we left now”, I said to my lovely wife as I finished a game of 8-ball.

In this one evening of baseball, a couple of truths became clear. Our pitching is suffering, second base is clearly a weakness, and there just might be something to this global warming concern!

It was indeed a blowout – in more ways than one.