We're All Behind Our Baseball Team...

I'm not really a baseball fan. As a sport, it seems only marginally more interesting than soccer, which ranks somewhere between "paint drying" and "men kissing" in terms of something I'd like to watch. I can probably count on both hands the number of Tigers games I've been to in my entire life. And I just haven't paid much attention to the Olde English D since, oh, around 1984 or so. (That hat always looked so cool on Tom Selleck.)

But there are undeniably times when baseball does get exciting, when it seems to live up to its hype as the national pastime -- something so quintessentially American it inspires and unites even citizens who would ordinarily be at odds in every other walk of life. "Oh, look, homo environmentalist hippie communist, let's leave off our bitter abortion debate -- the Tigers are in the World Series!" "Sure thing, right-wing Jesus freak gun nut -- that Maggs, he's my Tiger!"

For better or worse, baseball is our soccer, in both senses: a mostly boring sport, yes, but a venerable one that still somehow inspires passion in a great many people who invest bits of their identity in their favored teams.

With all that said, how great would it have been to be at the ballpark for that final victory over Oakland? One chap who was there was kind enough to post his video of the moment when Ordonez sealed the deal:



So I, the very fairest of fair-weather fans, join with the rest of Detroit in saying, for what it's worth: Go get 'em, Tigers!

Rowr.