And we're going to the playoffs!

Once more I quote Blur: "Woo HOOOO!" Check out a lovely article about the celebrations. And see Jeff Daniels' video for Lifelong Tiger Fan Blues

I will tell you from the start, I can't be torn apart from my team: Game 17 of 22+

Summary:
Score: Baltimore 12 Detroit 8
Temperature: 74 o
Attendance: 37,464
Winner of the Dunkin' Donuts Race: Biggie Bagel (or, rather, "And Biggie Bagel toasts 'em!")

I'm a bit behind on my blog for Sunday's game but I've been keeping notes on what I wanted to write and have been mulling it all over. I'm still a little confused about what I'm feeling. When we woke up this morning, the Tigers lead over Minnesota was down to half a game. Oddly, this makes me love the team even more. It's easy enough to cheer for a team when they're winning; something happens when you're cheering for a team with huge ups and deep downs. On Sunday, we got to the park quite early, watched batting practice and read the local paper. It was free batting helmet day (for those under 14) and I watched little kids paste white numbers to the shiny blue surface . Some kids were really meticulous and very carefully attached their favourite player's number. Others put their numbers on upside down or decorated the surface randomly chosen numbers. There were a lot of Pudge's, Ordonez's and Inge's and a lot of random numbers too (I don't recall there being a player with the number 659519 but I could see how tempting it would be to fill the blue hat with those white numbers.) I thought kids with #28 showed great taste. As the crowd filled in, I was watching the kids with their helmets and looking at kids and adults with names on their t-shirts or jerseys. I had my Granderson shirt on and I was wondering how it is that someone goes about choosing a favourite player. What makes a 12 year old boy buy a Verlander shirt? Or a 30 year old man buy a Brandon Inge shirt? Or, frankly, me buy a Granderson shirt? Amidst this musing, I was reading a rather long article about Craig Monroe. I was really moved by this article (and the article I referred to in an earlier posting) and I realize I cheer louder for him now because I've read about what motivates him. On Sunday, rather than buying my usual scorecard, I succumbed to buying a program because of a feature article about the Beloved Centerfielder. Perhaps I've been delaying writing this entry because I'm still confused about why I found these articles so impressive and so moving. Further, I'm still confused about how all of this has happened to me this season. I've become very attached to some of these players; I find I'm no longer root root rooting for the home team, I'm cheering for a team of some really cool players. I'm cheering for Craig and Curtis to name only two. I think I bought a Granderson shirt not because of the runs he scored earlier in the season but because he had a rough August and he still keeps heading to the plate. As we were filing out of the park, a few people were grumbling about the Tigers' loss. I was smiling because the Motown song they played as we all filed out summed up all that I could not articulate about my feelings for this team:

I'm stickin to my guy like a stamp to a letter
Like birds of a feather
We..... stick together
I will tell you from the start
I can't be torn apart from my guy

The Quotable Paul Martin

Nothing could make a girl prouder than to see her big brother quoted on the Epicurious.com site.Check it out.

To Quote Blur: "Woo HOO!": Game 16 of 22+

Summary:
Score: Detroit 17 Baltimore 2
Temperature: 65 o
Attendance: 38,261
Winner of the Dunkin' Donuts Race: Cuppie Coffee

The Tigers scorecard has a section called "This Day in Tigers History" that informed me that on September 15, 1901 Detroit defeated Cleveland 21-0 at home in the most lopsided victory in Tigers history. Last night around the 7th inning, I was wondering whether the Tigers might break that record. They didn't but they did beat the Orioles 17 to 2. To quote Blur's haiku-like simplicity: "Woo HOO!" Today Dale's been keeping me updated the other games and reporting on the various wins and losses that could have an impact on the Tigers' playoff hopes. It's seeming like an inning by inning kind of thing. Despite last night's 17-2 win, I'm still pretty nervous and, even though I'm enjoying this new novel I picked up, I keep getting distracted by checking into the score. As I type this, I have the live scoreboard for tonight's game on in another browser.
Despite the remarkable technological advances that makes this all possible, I am reminded of those old time baseball scoreboards where the game was re-enacted for fans on a large gameboard (if you've seen Eight Men Out, you know what I'm talking about) via telegram. I found a photo of one such scoreboards-- a "Play-O-Graph" set up for the World Series for Chicago fans in 1929 and I'm intrigued by the whole scene. I love that all of these people are standing and watching an abstract re-enactment of the game and I love that they're keeping the road clear. I also love that the men are wearing suits and hats. It all seems so polite. Seeing that crowd of people (men, mostly, if not exclusively) in this photo is a reminder that baseball is often personal but more often than not, it's a very social game. In the past few games, I've been intrigued by the fact that, almost instantly, Dale has a group of friends as soon as we sit down. Last night, the minute we sat down, the two guys in front of us started talking to him like they'd known each other for years. Then another guy sat down and the four of them were sharing thoughts on first basemen, dugout politics and pitching prospects. Last night, the guy in front said to Dale, "You got the wife keeping a scorecard. Cool." I think I get a bit of "guy-cred" because of my scorecard but generally I am politely ignored and I'm perfectly ok with that. I learn a lot about the game by listening each night and I am able to take my nerdy photos and quietly cheer for my beloved centerfielder. I think I've mentioned that baseball allows you time for quiet contemplation but I'm realizing that it also allows people to have conversations with people they would never meet, let alone talk to for 3 hours, in any other context. I'm wondering, looking at the picture from 1929, whether it would be that much different from today. I see from my little web-based Play-o-graph that the Tigers won 2-0. To quote Blur once more, "Woo HOO!"

Fair Weather Fans?: Game 15 of 22+

Summary:
Score: Detroit 3 Rangers 2
Temperature: 65 o
Attendance: 24,196
Winner of the Dunkin' Donuts Race: Cuppie Coffee

As we headed toward Detroit, I saw the dark clouds creeping in. I was tired and really wasn't up for being cold and wet and waiting out a rain delay. To make matters worse, I realized while changing out of my work clothes and into my ballpark clothes that I'd left my ball park shoes at home. The only consolation of wearing pointy slingback kitten heels with my jeans and ballcap to a rain soaked ballpark was that I was wearing my UWO t-shirt; it made me smile to imagine people thinking "Oh yeah, trust a Western grad to wear pointy kitten heels to a rainy ballgame. What do they teach them at that university??" Poor footwear choices and bad weather aside, the pull of the Tigers outweighed the fear of getting soaked and commiting such an egregious footwear faux pas (I posted a picture of these shoes at the park on my Flickr site). Thinking there would likely be a downpour, we sat in the highest row where there was some shelter. We were there early and had a panoramic view of Detroit and the ballpark. We watched the crowds trickle in as the dark clouds began to swarm around us. Having seen a few "Tigers Fan From Before 2006" t-shirts, I started thinking about the term "fair weather fan" noticing the attendance for the past few rainy games and hoped it was the rain that was keeping people away not the fact that, within the past month, the Tigers 10 game lead now dances around the one or two games. While I've enjoyed the intensity of the nearly full ballpark, I have to admit I enjoyed having some open space in the stands in recent games: it leads to a more reflective experience. People who endure rain to watch baseball tend to watch baseball; there were very few "can you see me??" phone calls and I was happy to have an evening where no one did the wave. The excitement of the Tigers' mid-season victories was a thrilling ride and like nothing I've experienced before. The past month has been much more tempered and thoughtful. In the low attendance nights, people are watching the game much more carefully and contemplatively and I've liked that. The mood for the past few games has been somewhere between nervous dread and tentative hope. Every at bat is starting to matter and every play has the potential to be read as foreshadowing. If someone were writing a novel about a baseball team like this one, most writers would cringe at the tried and clumsy cliche of victories in sunshine and defeats in rainstorms. However trite the symbolism, I remain ever the student of literature and I find it hard not to notice the parallels between the weather and the Tigers' record. As much as I resist the awkward symbolism, I cling to the final moment of Tuesday's game as a sign of hope.
In the bottom of the ninth, the Tigers and Rangers are tied 2-2. As the Rangers take the field, the rain that poured insistently for the past hour lets up. The rain turns to a light mist as the first Tigers batter approaches the plate. When Carlos Guillen swings, the park goes silent. The sound of rain has vanished and suddenly all you hear is the crack of Guillen's bat and the silence of 20,000 people holding their breath. The ball arcs out of the park and the Tigers have won. Ever hopeful, I have to admit that as much as the above scene reads like a cringe worthy piece of fiction, I can't help but hope it's not a random narrative dot but an omen.

Return of Today on iTunes

In response to a long standing and repeated request from a regular visitor to Heidi's cafe, I have _finally_ got my lovely computer and iTunes set up in my office. Thus, I am pleased to tell you (and you know who you are) that today's favourite album is Gomez's How We Operate. "See the World" is putting a particular spring in my typing. We saw Gomez a year or two ago in Detroit and it was one of the best shows I've seen. If you happen, for example, to live in South Burlington, VT, you might be pleased to know they're playing there on Oct. 3. No Detroit. Sniff.

My first rain delay: Game 14 of 22+

Summary:
Score: Mariners 4 Detroit 3
Temperature: 72 o
Attendance: 23,583
Winner of the Dunkin' Donuts Race: Biggie Bagel

I'm a little behind in the blogs and I didn't think anyone would notice. You're a tough crowd sometimes. I've been writing this in spurts over the past few days. It's been a rather chilly week and there have been a few massive rainfalls. Two in particular were really bad and both
coincided with a Tigers game. I was only at one but Dale was at both. Last Tuesday's game was my very first rain delay; it may have been my fault for having said only a few hours earlier, gazing at the then perfectly blue sky, "it's amazing that I've never been rained on in all the games we've been to." Oops. The next day, Dale and Dave had a 3 hour rain delay. So, a few people have asked me what you do during a rain delay. You either leave or you wait. If you wait, you wait. Judging from the number of people falling up the stairs when the game
resumed, quite a few people drank many beers while they waited. You might, as I did, watch this amazing process wherein the grounds crew rolls a giant tarp over the infield in a well-choreographed series of movements. It's sort of like the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade except with a giant silver tarp instead of the giant Snoopy. And, well, there's a lot less merriment and mirth. Ok, maybe it's nothing like the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade but it still amused me. The other thing you can do-- as I did-- is stand there and think about the game and reflect upon why so many people are standing in the cold waiting for it to resume when there's not a patch of clear sky anywhere. On the screen, they played a long video where various celebrities, players, fans and historians talked about the game. Of particular interest to me were the people who talked about the parallels between baseball and everyday life. Some of these were somewhat cliched but others were incredibly moving. Someone-- whose name I copied down on my scorecard but is now washed away-- said that baseball's a sport where you can give it your all and still come up short. That's the heartbreaking thing about it and I've seen in the players' strides and in their determination. In my own small way, I've felt that too. In the past weeks, I've also been thinking about how, in previous summers, I took comfort in the fact that even though players strike out, mess up, screw up, wipe out, they still go to the plate and give it another stab, inning after inning, day after day. Baseball is a sport where you come back to the park and back to the plate again and again trying to get it right. There's a lot that can be learned from this game and there is, if you want it, a lot of inspiration on the field too. Perhaps I'm feeling so much affection for these players because they remind me of the need to step up to the plate day after day. It's unlikely you'll hit a homerun at every at bat but there's nothing stopping you from trying.

What a difference a year makes:Game 13 of 22+

Summary:
Score: Angels 2 Detroit 1
Temperature: 68 o
Attendance: 38,688
Winner of the Dunkin' Donuts Race: Biggie Bagel
Number of multicoloured beach balls launched from the top row of section 325 in the 7th inning: none :(

I'll make a minor correction to yesterday's blog. Yesterday I wrote that the game changes day by day. Actually, it appears that it can change almost hour by hour. A few times today, Dale has reported that these Sox were up on those Sox and then described how this team's victory and that team's loss alters the Tigers' standings. This hour by hour, day by day attention to wins and losses is a fascinating thing to watch. To give you a sense of how different this season is from last year, attendance at a Sept 5, 2005 game was 26, 150 and the Tigers' record was 63 wins and 72 losses. Now, they're regularly getting 38-40,000 fans out a game and, as of tonight, their record is 85 wins and 53 losses.
Last night's game was about as exciting as it can get. Undoubtedly, we've seen the Tigers one run down in the bottom of the ninth before but it's getting to the point where every win counts and everyone in the park knows that every win counts (except perhaps the person behind us who thought bat and ball boys were actual players paid millions of dollars to "sit on a chair in the field and watch the game"-- bless her though for coming out, I say). I knew words would fail to capture the buzz and excitment of last night's game so I used my digital camera to capture a bit of video of last night's excitement. I did capture a still image of the crowd in the last inning: but I'm still not sure words, video or images could capture the magic of last night's game. I've spent a while tonight trying to figure out if and how to post quicktime videos but, as you'll note by the absence of a quicktime video, I've not figured it out. Perhaps you can imagine the energy from 38,000 people standing cheering Marcus Thames in what was the final at-bat for the Tigers. It's all pretty amazing: I don't think any of last year's 26,150 fans could have dreamed a season like this would be one year away. I don't think many of last night's 38,688 fans can believe it either.

Who's My Tiger? Tough call: Game 12 of 22+ games

Summary:
Score: Detroit 9 Angels 0
Temperature: 69 o
Attendance: 37,509
Winner of the Dunkin' Donuts Race: Cuppie Coffee
Number of multicoloured beach balls launched from the top row of section 325 in the 7th inning: at least 2 dozen (plus a few inflatable killer whales)

On Friday, we were back at the ballpark. It had been almost 10 days since I'd last been and it seemed like forever. As much as I enjoy it, I have to admit liking having more than half an hour of awake time at home during the week. I was mentioning this to a colleague at work who said, "but that's the way to watch baseball. You have to watch it everyday since they play almost everyday. So much can change within a week or two." I'd never really thought about it but he's spot on. I don't quite watch it everyday but watching it as much as I have the past month and a bit has done a few things: not only have I increased my affection for the game and the team but I've found my affection for the players grows with each game. I worry about their slumps, I cheer at their successes, and I laugh at them dancing in the dugout. This year, the Tigers have a "Who's Your Tiger?" campaign. In April, Placido Polanco was my Tiger. Then in June I added Curtis to my list. And Omar Infante. And Magglio Ordonez. And then after reading his Gum Time blog I added Nate Robertson. And, of course, Brandon Inge. And then I read this article about Craig Monroe and now he's one of my Tigers too. The list keeps growing. And then I think about who's not on my list and can't find a reason why they can't be one of my Tigers too. So I add Pudge Rodriguez, Carlos Guillen, Marcus Thames, Joel Zumaya, Justin Verlander and Jeremy Bonderman too. I think that's almost the whole team; if I double checked the roster, I'm sure there would be someone else I'd have to add. Oh my. There are times, like Friday night in the 8th inning, when I had to pause and think, "How did this all happen? When did I become someone who yells "yay yay yay!" and jumps up and down at a baseball game?" I didn't consciously set out to become a Tigers fan when we went to our first games in 2000 but it has happened incrementally and I find myself loving this team and this game. I suppose it's all there in Motown wisdom:
You can't hurry love
No, you'll just have to wait
She said love don't come easy
Well , it's a game of give and take

PS: thanks to all of you who politely inquired about my slump. Thanks to Leyland's advice, I'm back at it as of this morning. Curtis too seems to be rebounding as does Cuppie Coffee. It's all good.

Site of the Week.2: Altoid Tins; Don't Leave Home Without Them

As many of you know, I am Altoids obsessed so I couldn't let this site pass me by. This one's from Dale and is a veritable gem: Make a Survival Kit out of an Altoids Tin (and Two More Life-Saving DIY Projects). Amazingly, it's not from Red Green but from Field and Stream. It seems to me you could make some pretty funky earrings out of this kit too. I mean, if you're really really lost in the wilderness what else are you going to do? Here are a few other links: The McGyver Challenge Altoids Tin Contest (learn how to make speakers out of Altoids tins!): 94 Uses for Altoid Tins (i.e., #70 "FBI agents: instead of those little wallets, put your badge and ID inside an Altoids tin. Looks great when you flash it at people for whose houses you have a search warrant" or, "#68 "Ever notice those hip, tiny new backpack/purses? Take this fashion trend to its logical conclusion and strap an Altoids tin to your back for those trips to the mall" or, in keeping with the Survival Theme: "# 83 "If you filled them with something hot, such as Cream of Wheat, you could use them to warm your feet on cold winter nights.")

Site of the Week: Odd, yet alluring

This week's nomination comes from my friend Elaine. It's the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster site. I have few words that I can use to describe this site but do check it out, linger on it and let it all soak in. You'll thank Elaine for it. Really.

Cuppie Coffee, Curtis and Yours Truly: Game 11 of 22+

Summary:
Score: White Sox 7 Detroit 5
Temperature: 74 o
Attendance: 40,187
Winner of the Dunkin' Donuts Race: Cuppie Coffee

I entered the park yesterday thinking about slumps. At first I was thinking about Cuppie Coffee's apparent slump. As we went through the gates, I told Dale "If Cuppie Coffee doesn't win tonight, I think they'll send her to the minor leagues for a while." I think my worries about Cuppie Coffee were, in fact, manifestations of the slumps I did not want to acknowledge namely my own creative slumps and the batting slump of My Favorite Player. When Cuppie Coffee emerged victorious before the bottom of the 4th inning, I hoped it was an omen for my player. Alas, the slump continued last night and I've found myself worrying about him today and hoping for the best for this afternoon's game. In part I'm worried about him being sent to the minor leagues (like Shelton) but, I also feel for him because I'm in my own much smaller, much less public slump of my own. To go back to a previous entry about the inevitable peaks and valleys of baseball and writing, I am grateful that no one knows how often I'm striking out when I sit down to write lately: thankfully no one pencils "3 pages of turgid prose" into a score card when I call it a day. Poor Curtis gets editorials written about him. On the other hand, look at the diagnostic tools at his disposal: "Slaught has done his video and computer work on Granderson's swing and doesn't see anything glaring, fitting in with manager Jim Leyland's assessment that he's somehow swinging through good pitches he should hit. Slaught added, however, that Granderson has a lot of timing mechanisms in his swing that make it a complicated thing to pick apart. Any one of those could set his swing off too early or too late." On surface, baseball and writing are very different things but, actually, there may be some useful similarities to consider. As I think about my writing slump and Curtis's batting slump, I think perhaps I can glean something from empathizing with Curtis. Here's a section from an editorial on the Tigers' website: "Leyland believes, when he [CG] does get through it, he'll be a much better player for it in the long run. That's part of the reason why he'll keep running him out there, at least against right-handers. His only advice: Keep hacking." In another article, Leyland is quoted as saying: "I basically told him, 'I don't [care] if you strike out,'" Leyland said. "'Swing the bat. Don't worry about it. Swing it. Go up there, unbutton your collar and let it fly instead of trying to make sure everything's perfect. It's OK to make a mistake.'" I may not have video or computer work to analzye the timing of my faulty syntactical swings but I think Jim Leyland has offered the best advice a slumping writer (or batter) could hear: keep hacking and swing the bat.

PS: Note about Game 12: it was an afternoon game and I had to work. Dale tells me Dashing Donut won. The Tigers did not. 10-0. Ouch.

I've become a fan: Game 10 of 22+

Summary:
Score: Tigers 4 White Sox 0
Temperature: 75 o
Attendance: 39, 361
Winner of the Dunkin' Donuts Race: Biggie Bagel

Last night was the beginning of a 4 game homestand with the Chicago White Sox. I have to admit I really haven't been following how many games Detroit is up over whomever but I do know that Chicago's behind Detroit and if Detroit loses all or some of these 4 games, it would have implications for the playoffs. Last night, while waiting for what turned out to be an amazing spinach pizza, I confessed to Dale: "I'm feeling really nervous about this game. I don't know why." Dale looked up at me with a gentle pride and said, "You've become a fan." And, I think I have; games have evolved into something else for me. I have always enjoyed going to ballgames; they have been an intellectual, aesthetic and almost esoteric experience. In the past few weeks, I'm starting to see that there is a difference between liking a game and being a fan. In the past few weeks, Tigers games have become increasingly emotional expeience: the suspense that makes me sort of ill and the excitement and relief over a good play or a good game. While I'd not really felt these emotions at a ballgame before, I recognized the feelings immediately; they're the very same ones I feel when I watch the Oilers in the playoffs. In feeling these emotions I realize that baseball's has really made a home in my heart as has the city of Detroit. In thinking about how Detroit and the Tigers have nestled into my affections, I am reminded of Dave asking me if my Curtis Granderson shirt was the first sports shirt with a name that I'd ever owned. No, this is my third: in the 80s I had (and still have) home and away Oilers jerseys with Paul Coffey and Kevin Lowe's numbers. Curtis has good company.

Field(s) of Dreams: Game 9 of 22+

Summary:
Score: Tigers 7 White Sox 1
Temperature: 79 o
Attendance: 39, 278
Winner of the Dunkin' Donuts Race: Biggie Bagel

A couple of weeks ago, Dale and I were stuck on the bridge trying to get over for a Sunday ballgame. We were there for over an hour which, happily, offered us an opportunity to hear the Saskatchewan part of Noah Richler's A Literary Atlas of Canada http://www.cbc.ca/ideas/features/literary_atlas/ on CBC. I was happy for the opportunity since we were leaving for 12 days in Alberta and Saskatchewan the next day. It was a really insightful, frank and poignant description of a province I love deeply. Amidst the usual defence of the landscape that is too often described as "nothing out there" there was an interesting description of Saskatchewan as a land of mystery. One of the speakers said that it is a land that reveals itself slowly and a space that you need to work at discovering its secrets and its beauty. This concept is akin my mother's insistence that those who find Saskatchewan boring need a lesson in looking. As we inched toward the border, I listened to the description of the space I love while gazing toward the Detroit skyline. Thinking about where I come from and where I am now, I don't think I'd ever felt so liminal as I did hovering above the Detroit River somewhere between land and sky, between Windsor and Detroit, between Canada and the US. As we meandered from our parking spot to the ballpark through downtown streets we'd not seen before, I started thinking about the Noah Richler show about Saskatchewan. In many ways, downtown Detroit is about as far from Golden Prairie, Saskatchewan as one can get. However, in other ways, it too is a space that reveals itself slowly and a space where you need to work at finding its beauty. Like Saskatchewan, Detroit is a space that is often maligned; to be sure, there are some pretty major problems but there are some remarkable things if you go looking for them. I write this from my seat in the ballpark. We're here early and Motown music is playing while I stare out at the Motown skyline. Amazed that I, a prairie kid, am not only listening to Motown in Motown but that I find the Detroit skyline friendly and familiar, I take out my digital camera to take a few shots to somehow make it all real. In previewing them, I see the last photos I took are of haybales near Wainwright and smile at the juxtaposition of wheat fields and baseball fields. Maybe, Detroit and Golden Prairie aren't that far away afterall.

"It's a Hot Pudge Sunday!": Game 8 of 22+

Summary:
Score: Texas 7 Tigers 6
Temperature: 79 o
Attendance: 39, 071
Winner of the Dunkin' Donuts Race: Dashing Donut

Someone once advised me that writing is "all about peaks and valleys." Baseball is a lot like writing in this regard. This Tigers season is magical but not magical enough to avoid those valleys. Sunday's game had its peaks but it also had its valleys. In particular, the Tigers blew a 6 run lead to lose 7-6. On the upside (if indeed it is an upside), I got lots of practice discerning hits from errors and learning how to enter errors into my score card. Although the jumbo-tron twice claimed that it was "A Hot Pudge Sunday," I'm not sure even Pudge could save the game.
Earlier, I had written about sitting in different parts of the ballpark offered different vantage points from which to see and understand the game. Our seats for yesterday's game offered a clear view of the Tigers dugout which I'd not had before. From this perspective (and with the aid of my new zoom-in capabilities) I got some insight into dugout culture and also some behind the scenes strategizing. I was intrigued to see My Favorite Player (who was not in the lineup) doing some weird little dances to the amusement of the other players. I could also watch players watching the game; I got a better sense of their personalities watching the dugout. Interesting as that was, I was perhaps most interested in being able to see what was about to happen on the field before it actually happened. For example, you could tell a new pitcher was about to come in when the manager's pacing picked up. And, I knew something was up once My Favourite Player picked up his ball glove in the ninth inning. Sitting here again offered more insight into the various nuances of the game and into baseball culture. Much of it remains elusive though. Attempting to glean a deeper inside knowledge of the game, I asked Dave (a pitcher himself) what the manager was telling the pitcher when he walked out to the mound. Dave thought for a moment and said, "He's saying, 'Don't suck, ok?'" The many mysteries of baseball may remain mysteries. And then there's the mystery of Dashing Donut's victory. My section really thought Biggie Bagel was going to take it. I think someone should check what's in his sprinkles.

Baseball and Libraries?: Game 7 of 22+ Games

Summary:
Score: Tigers 4 Texas 2
Temperature: 77 o
Attendance: 34,765
Winner of the Dunkin' Donuts Race: Biggie Bagel

I'll admit it; I was tired at tonight's game and my mind was wandering. We just returned from almost 2 weeks away and today was my first week back at work. My thoughts wandered between work and baseball and at one point, I started wondering if anything could be more disparate than baseball and libraries. I amused myself by imagining a being at a library conference and saying "I'm the Team Librarian for the Detroit Tigers." Tonight as I sat down to write my game blog, I realized I did not have any major insights into the game (despite Dave calling me "grasshopper" and pointing out a few more nuances I'd not noticed before). So, on a whim, I googled "librarian and baseball" just to see what would happen and I see that actually there are a few connections between libraries and baseball. For example, check out this neat promotion: "Step Up to the Plate @ your library." You can download a playbook (geared toward various age groups) that "contains four pages—or “bases”—of questions in order of increasing difficulty. The questions focus on women in baseball, African-Americans in baseball, Hispanics in baseball, Major League Baseball, and ball parks. Select one question from each “base,” for a total of four questions, and use your library’s print and electronic resources to find the correct answers." I downloaded the over 18 playbook and there are some really cool questions; I think I actually may work my way through these. I realize, at this late hour, that this promotion is actually very interesting from an Information Literacy point of view. Maybe thinking about baseball and libraries isn't all that strange after all. Or, maybe it is. I find myself wondering "maybe I could get hired as the team librarian" and then imagining Jim Leyland saying, "Quick, get the librarian. We need an almanac in the bull pen!" and then wondering if my team uniform would have a Dewey Decimal number on the back? Ah well. It is late and I should get some sleep. Still, it's something to dream about.

Blogging break

Hello... hope this post finds you all well. I'm taking a blogging break but am posting photos to Flickr intead. There are more like this prize winning cabbage photo. If you're worried about the latest standings of the Dunkin Donuts race, Dave kindly sent this along: "Just to let you know, I was in attendance for tonight's Tiger loss: Attendance was 35 624, Dashing Donut won the Dunkin Donut's Race." Talk to you soon! H

Baseball immersion, or, how I started talking in my sleep: Game 6 of 22+

Summary:
Score: Tigers 1 Cleveland 0
Temperature: 86 o
Attendance: 39,178
Winner of the Dunkin'Donuts Race: Biggie Bagel

Baseball immersion is doing odd things to me. Not only I am starting to be able to spot ground rule doubles, I am, apparently, talking in my sleep about my favorite player. It's probably good that I have a small baseball hiatus coming up. This weekend we went to four games: two Tigers and two Woodslee Orioles games. It's strange to watch the same sport in such different venues. The Woodslee Park is one of my favourite places since you're watching baseball in an idyllic small park near cornfields and a rural elementary school and a nice high steepled church. Everyone seems to know each other; kids show up on bikes to watch; people stop by while walking their dogs. Everyone seems to know each others' dogs too. Thankfully, at Woodslee, no one calls their friends to wave at each other from across the park.
In my summer of baseball immersion, these Woodslee games offered another dimension. From where we usually sit in Comerica, the actual game is a silent one: players move around the field without a sound other than a crack of a bat or a thwap of a catch. Watching baseball in a park like Woodslee, you hear all sorts of things: some expected, some unexpected. Some I could transcribe here, some, I would not. But, of course, in the stands you don't hear it all but it's something. Today I was watching the Tigers and was wondering about the chatter and talk that was happening on the field and in the dugouts. There is a kind of mystique about it all: what exactly are they talking about? Who knows, maybe they're all on cellphones in the dugouts saying, "Oh yeah, I see you waving. You're wearing a blue shirt, aren't you. You're getting whacked by a big foam finger? Good. Turn off your phone and watch the game." Highly unlikely but still possible.

The Score Card: Game 5 of 22

Summary:
Score: Tigers 7 Cleveland 6
Temperature: 82 o
Attendance: 41,502
Winner of the Dunkin' Donuts Race: Dashing Donut

Last night was perhaps the most exciting game we've been to this season. In the first inning three of the first four hitters scored runs; in the 6th inning it was 5-0 and then it started to get exciting. The Tigers won with a two run HR by Craig Monroe in the 8th inning.
I know these things because I'm looking at my trusty scorecard. It's taking me a while to learn the art of keeping a scorecard but I'm slowly getting it. Last night's card was perhaps the best one I've kept (though I missed some things in the 6th inning; distracted, I think by the group of moms who had imbibed too many tequila slurpees and were starting to dance and "woo-HOO"). I kept my first scorecard when we had really good seats for the Yankee's game last year and Dale reminded me that I really needed to pay attention since balls regularly landed in our section. Keeping a scorecard made me pay attention. I realized too that there's a certain ballparky-romance about the scorecard; it's a lovely piece of baseball history. My grandfather kept a scorecard and in keeping a card, I feel connected with him. Last night, I realized that keeping a scorecard is helping me learn the subtlties of the game. For example, was that a passed ball or a wild pitch? A double or a single plus a fielding error? I'm still iffy about those but I know I'd never have even thought about those things in my pre-scorecard days. My scorecard keeping skills are still pretty rudimentary but I'm getting better and I'm learning a lot.

A couple of other things. Last night I discovered a whole new function on my digital camera; check out Flick'r. Wow! I'm very excited. And, there's been some talk around our section that Dashing Donut might be using steroids.I guess I should say, by "talk," I mean me and Dale. One more thing. I really don't want to use this blog to rant but allow me just this one: let me just say this to my fellow ballpark patrons. Why must you call every friend you know who is in the park and try to figure out where he or she is. There are 40,000 people there. If it matters, get the seat and section number and go over there. In the past few games we've been sitting next to people who have made 3 or 5 phone calls to people: "I'm waving! Can you see me? I'm waving now. I'm standing and waving! What are you wearing. I'm wearing a blue t-shirt. Blue. I'm wearing a blue t-shirt and waving. No, dark blue. [Aside: there are 20,000 people wearing dark blue Tigers t-shirts] I'm Waaaving! Do you see me? Waaaaaaaving! Oh I see you! Hi! Do you see me waving at you? Ha ha!! I see you waving!" It's enough to make me want to purchase a giant foam finger to whack people with. "I'm the one getting whacked by a giant foam finger. Help! Do you see me getting whacked? I'm getting whacked!"

Mah Na Mah Na: do do de do do; or, this week's site(s) of the week

This week, I've decided to go with a set of inter-related sites as my site of the week. On Tuesday, a number of us met at a downtown establishment and the conversation turned to the Muppet Show and the "Mah Na Mah Na" song. Mita--ever a wealth of cool and quirky information-- told us that "Mah Na Mah Na" was not an original Sesame Street/ Muppet Show creation but was, in fact, a real song. I realize that my ignorance about "Mah Na Mah Na" puts me squarely in the Sesame Street Generation and in the same category as those who think Billy Idol ripped off "Rebel L" and the Beatles mangled "Letter B" .
Because I have such fond memories of singing this song with my dad when I was a wee lass and because I'm excited about seeing him soon, I set out to find more about "Mah Na Mah Na." So, this week's sites are the best of what I found.
Watch the Muppet's "Mah Na Mah Na" clip
"Mah Na Mah Na" goes back to the late 1960s and was by the uber cool Piero Umiliani
The best part: in May 2006, an album with 11 versions of "Mah Na Mah Na" was released. You can listen to clips of Mah Na Mah Na "the football club mix" or the "tiki mix" or the "Space a Go-Go mix" by going to the iTunes music store and searching for "Piero Umiliani Mah na mah na." You'll need to have iTunes installed; if you don't have iTunes yet, well, you should.

On a side note, Those pink bovine things in the video clip are called "Snowths" and I learned about them on this site which I mention in part because the name is so brilliant: The Kermitage. You can also read about (wrongly) forgotten Muppets like The Salzburg Sauerkraut Singers: "a group of four pigs that sang a mock-German song while throwing sauerkraut." I don't see Pepe the King Prawn though... pity.