Sorry, forgot to take the camera. Lori, my brother Paul, and I went to see the D-Backs play the beloved Tigers. The mighty Tigs inflicted a thousand paper cuts on the D-Backs and eventually prevailed 5-1. The Tigs aren't the plodding bashers of yore; they're quick and sure-footed and able to take the extra base with hustle and guile. They looks like a team that is built to flourish in Comerica Park, a place where doubles and homers go to become triples. Rookie Centerfielder Nook Logan, a lanky greyhound, drove the a stake in the D-Backs heart when he darted to the 376 sign in left-center field and then reached over the wall to rob Troy Glaus of a homer. We sat in the upper deck directly behind home plate with seats on the aisle. A fine time was had by all.
Now, let's talk about the Pistons, briefly. The Pistons win when they make teams play worse than the Pistons do. The Pistons would be deadly if they could make routine shots. They can't. So they must look for other ways to win. The result is unwatchable, recreation league fair--akin to televising nightly amateur league games from your local Y. Good thing that San Antonio finally found players who had the steely nerve to make some big shots, otherwise the Pistons poor shooting, flooping, and bellyaching would be the talk of the league and be the model for copycat coaching. The San Antonio win changes the focus to athletic play, proficient shooting, and a big man who can do play both ends of the court.
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