Quiz: Are You Simmons, Klosterman, Smith, or Reilly?

A life question if there ever was one, the following quiz will provide you an answer to the age-old head-scratcher, "Am I more like Bill Simmons, Chuck Klosterman, Stephen A. Smith, or Rick Reilly?"

1) What is your drug of choice?

A) Cocaine
B) Marijuana
B) Rogaine
D) Airtime

2) What would likely be your steed on a cross-country road trip?

A) An Escalade
B) A Taurus
C) A BMW
B) A Pony

3) Which of the following is your favorite snack?

A) Dunkin' Donuts
B) Olive Garden Breadsticks
C) C-Doods
D) Dripping Melted Cheese

4) Who would you most prefer to interview?

A) A gay one-legged single mother who follows the Toledo Mudhens very closely
B) I'd rather be interviewed
C) Rajon Rondo
D) Jeff Tweedy

5) Which of the following albums gets the most iPod mileage?

A) Exile on Main Street - the Rolling Stones
B) Ten - Pearl Jam
C) This Is How We Do It - Montel Jordan
D) Making Love - The Very Best of Air Supply

6) Obscure reference of choice?

A) Jorge Lugo
B) Queensryche
C) Ray Pruitt
D) Steve Harvey

7) Which of the following sects would you would most prefer to think highly of you?

A) Your Negroes
B) Hipster/Indie Crossover Sportsfans
C) Frat guys, Former Frat Guys, and Future Frat Guys - all of whom think sports are extremely important
D) Sensitive Moms

8) Which of the following do you find the least annoying?

A) Ironic use of a word you previously ridiculed (i.e., trenchant)
B) Abbreviations of phrases you previously ridiculed (i.e. TUP for tremendous upside potential)
C) Food Metaphors (hold on one second, hahahahahhhahahaha. K, sorry)
D) Using the third person in reference to oneself

9) Who do you like (or in some instances, think you would have liked) the most of the following athletes?

A) Larry Bird
B) Roger Staubach
C) Allen Iverson
D) Lance Armstong

10) What is your favorite song about rain (Yes, I am running on fumes here, but I like an even 10 questions)?

A) Thunderstruck - AC/DC
B) I Wish It Would Rain - Bryan McKnight
C) I Love a Rainy Night - Eddie Rabbit
D) Blame It on the Rain - Milli Vanilli

Scoring:

1) A: 1, B: 3, C: 9, D: 6
2) A: 6, B: 3, C: 1, D: 9
3) A: 1, B: 3, C: 6, D: 9
4) A: 9, B: 6, C: 1, D: 3
5) A: 3, B: 1, C: 6, D: 9
6) A: 9, B: 3, C: 1, D: 6
7) A: 6, B: 3, C: 1, D: 9
8) A: 3, B: 1, C: 9, D: 6
9) A: 1, B: 3, C: 6, D: 9
10) A: 1, B: 6, C: 3, D: 9

Tallying the Results:

Add up your total score:

1-19: You are Bill Simmons
20-42: You are Chuck Klosterman
43-59: You are Stephen A. Smith
60+: You are Rick Reilly

If for some reason you are curious, I score a solid Klosterman, but I suppose that is by design since I made up the questions. Bye.

GoWF LOST: Episode 1

Editors Note: This is the first installment of bizarro-world Lost starring some of our favorite characters from around the sports world. Before you dive in to Episode 1, it’s essential that you read the preamble from last week detailing the cast of characters and their Lost counterparts. Hope you enjoy!

The story begins on day 17, with the majority of the Losties huddled around a towering campfire. The group has long since fabricated their camps beachside and begun to resemble an island community. The survivors have started to realize that going home may not be an immediate option. Further, the group has explored the island in some detail – locating the first of the hatches as well as the wreckage from both an airplane and pirate ship. At this point, the tribe is getting restless and they don’t know where to throw themselves. After a long day of preparation, Tom Brady, the interim leader of the group, is set to address the assembly.

Tom Brady (standing and animated in front of a group seated in a circle around the fire): Alright, is everybody here? Folks, it’s time we start thinking like a team. We’ve tried the short-term “help we’re stuck on an island” clichés and they simply have not worked. Writing messages in the sand and blowing smoke signals is for TV shows. It’s time we start thinking longer-term. I know that none of us want to admit to ourselves that we’re not going home, but it’s time to start thinking that way. The way I see it, we have three options. Number One: we can devote our collective energies to fixing up the old pirate ship and try to get ourselves off this island. Number Two: we can try to figure out what is really behind this whole “island” and why we all lived through the crash. Number Three: We can try to find the secret treasure that is inevitably hidden somewhere on this strange island.

Meanwhile, the silhouettes of Dock Ellis and Bill Walton appear from out of the woods. They are laughing hard with their arms around one another as they stumble their way into the circle surrounding the campfire.

Tom Brady: Glad you too knucklefucks could join us. Do you mind me asking, what was so important that you could not make it to the assembly meeting? This is an important meeting in which we should all take part.

Dock Ellis is biting his lower lip trying to contain his laughter when Walton speaks up.

Bill Walton: We can’t find our car (bursts out laughing). We found this AMAZING Volkswagen van in the woods (hands waving in the air as he gets overexcited), got it running, and were jamming out to some good tunes – well at least in Doc’s opinion – but then we got out for some air and we lost the thing.

Brady: Maybe if you two would stop eating all these random plants and licking all the toads and lizards, you wouldn’t keep screwing shit up. Anyway, just sit there and be quiet. We have work to do. Where was I? Oh yeah, so we should take a vote. All those in favor of the boat, raise your hand?

Sasha Cohen raises her hand and immediately Mark Cuban follows suit and starts yapping.

Mark Cuban (nearly hyperventilating): Guys, we need to fix the ship! It’s the only way we can get Sasha Cohen off the island with her baby. She has a baby and the baby needs to be cared for like a… a baby.

Dock Ellis: Shit up, Cuban. You’re gonna die soon. Everybody knows it.

Bill Walton: It’s true, that dude sees the future. He told me about all it. You can try to stop it, but very much like the Grateful Dead in May ‘77, some things were just meant to be.

Tom Brady: OK, two votes for the ship. Who wants to focus on the mysteries of the island and how the hatch plays into this whole thing.

Brett Favre raises his hand.

Brett Favre: I’m old and my joints feel damn good on this island. I was gonna retire after this season anyway. I think we’re meant to be here. The island brought us here. Last night, I was trying to sleep and I heard voices. It was Aaron Rodgers and he told me to “GET LOST.” I think I was put on this island for a reason.

Jackie Christie slowly raises her hand as well.

Jackie Christie: Everyone, I’m really scared. It’s been 17 days I still haven’t found Doug. Normally, he wears a Taser bracelet that shocks him repeatedly whenever he gets outside of a 20 yard radius from me. I think he might be dead.

Tom Brady: Um, ok. So, that’s two votes for the solving the mystery of the island. Last but not least, who want to look for treasure?

The remaining Losties raise their hands, followed by some Ichiro fist pumps and a high five between Maglio Ordonez and Missy Gibson. Ray Lewis pinches Missy’s ass while she is busy giving the high five and turns around and slaps him.

Tom Brady: Ray Lewis, do you have something to say?

Ray Lewis: Shut the fuck up, pretty boy. I’ll make you my bitch. You too, freckles. You and me, my tent, after the meeting. Wear something sexy.

Missy Gibson: In your dreams Ray Lewis. And why do you keep calling me freckles? I don’t even have freckles.

Tom Brady: Well, that settles it. I guess we’re looking for the secret treasure that we can only assume is on this island, because all deserted islands have a treasure, right? We’ll need to split into teams. Missy, Maglio, Bill Walton, Mark Cuban, and Brett Favre; you’re coming with me. We’ll head into the jungle tomorrow morning to start looking for clues. Everyone else, you’ll maintain the camp: fish, pick berries, and get rid of those horrible farmer’s tans. You people are so painfully ugly.

Ray Lewis: Nice try, eye black. You’re not running off into the forest with all the good poon. I’m coming with. Plus, I got the guns.

Tom Brady: What? Where did you get the guns?

Ray Lewis: None of your business, baby daddy. Just remember, Ray Lewis has two kinds. The ones attached to his shoulders and the ones that’ll blow your mutha fuckin’ head off.

RAY LEWIS FLASHBACK:

Ray Lewis: Dogg, I’m drunk as a mutherfucker. Let’s go get some Champ Burgers at Checkers and Hot Apple Turnovers. They got Checkers in Atlanta, right?

Ray’s Cronie: Hold on a minute. See this bitch rollin’ out right here. Nigga got up my mix – called my mama a semen dumpster. Watch this. I’m gonna bust him upside his head with this champagne bottle.

Ray’s Other Cronie: Do it, dogg. You finna fuck his shit UP.

Ray Lewis: If we just kill them, then can we get a Champ Burger?

Ray’s Cronie: Yes.

Crack. Pop. Pop. Cloud of Dust. Ray and his two buddies jump in the Escalade and peel out. Everyone disseminates.... Well, everyone except for the two dead guys.

Tom Brady: Ray… Ray?

Ray Lewis: Oh yeah, I’m here. I’m with you guys. Tomorrow morning, first thing. Right.

The fire trickles as we see the Losties part ways and head to their respective shelters. Meanwhile, we see two sets of yellow eyes peering from the woods through the darkness.

Gadooosh. LOST.

Brett Favre Gettin Jiggy

Recognize that smooth cat in the middle of the bunk sandwich?

The Ten Most Beloved/Transcendent/Memorable Detroit Sports Figures

Let's face it; the city of Detroit is bleeding like a stab wound (both economically and literally) and could use a little pick-me-up, something to stop the bleeding.

In case you have never seen a sports movie; when the going gets tough and the townspeople get down on their luck, the factories shut down, and the houses get foreclosed, it's the sports teams that pull through to raise the spirit. Thanks to Johan Franzen and the Wings, Detroiters have a little something to live for these days, as another cup looks plausible.

Unfortunately, despite the 'Hockeytown" moniker, Detroit needs a true hero to pick up the collective morale. Thus, given our penchant for the making of lists, let's go back through the annals of time (or at least our childhoods) and look at the great beloved Detroit sports personas of all time.

1) Steve Yzerman - Yzerman is and always will be the embodiment of Detroit. Stevie "Y" led Hockeytown to the Cups, played every single game of his pro career with the Wings, and played an inspired pro career spanning 24 years. To cap it off, the NHL fans voted Stevie the NHL's greatest captain. Damn straight.

2) Barry Sanders - Undeniably the biggest star ever to play a sport in Detroit and by far the most beloved, Barry exhibited the sportsmanship, the skill, and the swerve to inspire legions of youngsters to wear #20. Unfortunately, he now sits at number two on the list as he ended his career with a big diss of his franchise, but still, he never did play for any other town or ask to be traded. He just walked away when he'd seen enough. And can you blame him, it's the Lions? We'll always love him and know he'll always be the best.

3) Joe Dumars - Growing up a Pistons fan in the Bad Boys heyday, most kids sported Isiah jerseys or the savvier, hipster kids rocked a Worm jersey, because that was when Rodman was still cool and wore the shortest shorts in the NBA. Everybody appreciated Dumars for his smart reliable play and marksmanship from behind the arc, but rarely did he steal the highlight reel. Still, when MJ came to town, guess who would shut him down? When the Pistons needed a big game, guess who dropped 40 and gave the net a nasty case of leather burn? And when the Pistons franchise was stuck in expansion team blue uniforms with "horsepower" logo, guess who came into the front office to right the ship and win one more title? Yup, Joe D.

Ok fine: The jury is still out on his career as the GM. We forgive you for Darko, but you've gotta rebuild the engine from the bottom up to usher in a new era of DETROIT BASKETBALL. Our tip, hold off on spending until next season. I fear Carlos Boozer signs for a max deal and sits half the season with a swollen ego, er knee.

4) Chauncey Billups - Nobody is singing Cinderella in Detroit about the Billups-Iverson trade this year, believe me. Us Detroit fans knew we had a special player. Don't believe me, check out this old post where we rallied all the Detroit blog friends we could round up to sing our praises and try to convince Mr. Big Shot to stay put the last time the trade rumors surfaced. Go win a championship in Denver, Chauncey. You deserve it.

5) Robocop - Technically not a professional athlete, but he gave his all to the mean streets of Detroit. Plus, Murphy was a specimen. He ran a blazing "40" and could have gone pro in any number of sports, but rather chose to devote his life to putting criminals behind bars. He will always be revered in Detroit. "Dead or Alive...you're coming with me."

6) Sparky Anderson - "Bless you Boys." The lovable manager by the name of Sparky assembled the team that changed the world for my generation of Detroit sports fans (the '84 Tigers). While Sparky arguably experienced his best years as a Cincinnati Red in the 1970s, his cartoonish face and World Series crown earn him an easy place on the list. Plus, he shares a nickname with Clark Griswold.

7) Bill Laimbeer - Despite winning multiple titles with the Pistons and leading the orchestra of the Shock for however many more, Laimbeer stuck fear into his opponents. Make no mistake, people claim to have hated Laimbeer and made fun of his white boy gumpy style, but they were scared. Laimbeer was the enforcer on that team and taught Detroit that we like teams to hate us. Bring it on.

8) Nicklas Lidstrom - Arguably the best NHL defenseman of the past twenty years, Nik also lasted his entire career in Detroit. Nicklas is best summed up by looking at his assists, 769 total. He was nominated for the Norris nine out of the past ten seasons and winning six of the past seven. Yeah, he's pretty good. More importantly though, Lidstrom is a team player. Never the biggest guy weighing in at just 190 pounds, Lidstrom racks up endless minutes and plays through pain, missing just 17 games in 13 seasons. Not too many guys stick to the same team for their whole careers, so when a star like Lidstrom comes to town and stays for good, we should all be thanking our lucky stars.

9) Herman Moore - A personal favorite in Lions history, Herman Moore (before the hand injury) was one of the great - and most underrated - wide receivers in NFL history. You can't always measure the impact of a guy like Moore on a stat sheet. Oh wait nevermind, he once caught 123 balls in a single season (an NFL record at the time). He also tallied three 100+ catch seasons and notched 62 touchdowns. Herm dominated the red zone, perfecting the corner toss up and is largely responsible for the popularity of the huge wide receiver. Catching a touchdown pass for Herman Moore was more about dominating his opponent and getting position, rather than making an athletic diving grab. It didn't hurt that he also set the University of Virginia record for the high jump. I used to wonder if his gloves were smothered in Big League Chew, because the ball just stuck to those hands. Once Herman got near the corner and the ball left the QB's hands (even if it was Scott Mitchell, Eric Kramer, Dave Krieg, or Rodney Peete), you could mark six on your score sheet. God Bless Wayne's Run and Shoot.

10) Kirk Gibson - A former MSU Spartan and duel sports star, Gibby ruled the world back in the day. Shit, we all felt like he hit that homerun and gimped around the bases for Detroit in the 88 World Series, not the Dodgers. He was still a part of us.

Honorable Mentions: Ben Wallace, Allan Trammel, Lou Whitaker, Paul and Gary Gait, Jerry Ball, Chet Lemon, Jack Morris, Darrell Evans, Dave Bergman, and Darren McCarty.

Oh yeah, feel free to chat up all those that we missed. We are only human.

You Are Annoying Fake Tom Brady

As much as I hate to admit that I actually buy this magazine now and again, have you ever noticed every issue of Men's Health is exactly the same? I'm not really sure how they get away with this, but save for maybe a couple 500 word pieces on some dapper metrosexual, they literally rerun the exact same articles month in, month out.

As hard as it is to believe that people do not get upset by this, I think they probably get away with it, because most readers are probably like me and only pick up an issue once in awhile when they need something to read on a flight. Granted the magazine has a pretty huge readership, but still they must have a small population of regular readers.

Well, this always annoyed me, but what has really taken my hatred of David Zinczenko to a new level, the man behind this fluff crap magazine, is the fact that now the front page of Yahoo! runs these same stupid articles at least once a week now too.

How long is it going to take before somebody realizes that this guy is recycling the same two piece-of-trash articles on repeat no less than 10,000 times? And the guy is neither a doctor nor a nutritionist, so why is he considered such an expert that we should all continue reading his insightful two articles?

If you are wondering what the two articles I refer to are; I'll remind you.

1) How Should I Get Flat Abs?

You should do this sweet 15 minute workout consisting of a variety of ab exercises.

2) What Should I Eat?

Superfoods! You should eat things like tuna, almonds, green leafy vegetables, peanut butter, salmon, blueberries, red beans, and grilled chicken.

Oh and since I am an expert, I better remind you that you should not eat copious amounts of Popeye's Chicken, Taco Bell, Beer, or quadruple cheeseburgers. Now you are on your way to looking good.

Thanks for the tips you ass. I never would have thought of those fail proof approaches to six-pack abs. Now think of something new to write and stop patronizing us pillowy men everywhere. Don't you get it? We want to know the secret to six pack abs without doing any work, while drinking 18 beers a day and eating the Popeye's Chicken. So figure that out with your PhD in douche, smarty pants. Until you do, we continue to hate you Fake Tom Brady.

Getting to Know the OTB (Off Track Betting)

Given it's derby weekend, we thought we'd provide the sphere with a little carnal knowledge on an integral part of the weekend. You see, ever since the demise of internet gambling, betting on horseracing has become a bit trickier. Fortunately, while our righteous lawmakers consider it immoral to bet on human sports, there’s seems to be a loophole that we can freely blow our personal fortunes on sport, just as long as it includes the mistreatment of animals. To make a long story short, I am referring to the ability to go to the OTB (Off Track Betting) and lay down bets on horse racing. Manhattan is littered with OTBs and you know when one is near. There is an aura emanating from the OTB for at least a one block radius, or maybe it is the fog of 27 packs of cigarettes being smoked per hour. I’m not sure. Either way, a trip to the OTB is a cultural experience that I recommend to all, just not very often.

A trip to the OTB can be intimidating, so I will do my best to prepare any first timers for the seedy underbelly (read: pit of hell) you can expect to encounter. First and foremost, there are various types of characters you will likely run into at the OTB:

The Grandpa – I call this individual the Grandpa, because he reminds me of the way things were with my own Grandpa. This is the guy usually sitting in the one random chair outside the OTB with his own ashtray. Much like at family reunions, the old man always had the best chair and nobody ever sits in it, even if he went to in the kitchen or to the throne. He also had his own personal ashtray with cigarettes miraculously dangling a four inch ash at all times. It’s important to clarify that the Grandpa is not necessarily old, but garners respect and has his own chair. You get the idea. The Grandpa is at the top of the OTB food chain.

The Toadies – The toadies are part of the regular OTB circuit. These are the guys who act like it’s no big deal that it’s the Kentucky Derby. For them, it’s just another day at the office. These dudes earned their nickname from the toadies in The Christmas Story. The toadies were the shits who thought they were tough, because they rolled with Farkus. These guys act the part, but you can just sense they are waiting to see which horses the one or two gurus go with before they place their bets. The toadies dress like the stereotypical seedy gambler from the movies and basically just flip through magazines all day. I wouldn’t be surprised if these guys never actually bet, but rather preferred to just hang out for lack of anything better to do.

The Mike Dexter – This is the guy who really has no clue what he is doing, but he comes in with his group of buddies, so he acts like he knows it all. Maybe, this guy has done this once before, but he is the kind of person who would pretend to know everything about quantum psychics if he thought his friends would be impressed. He’ll probably announce multiple times to the whole room that “Dude, Curlin’ is totally gonna kick ass. He looked great at the Bluegrass his last time out.” Clearly, he picks a favored horse and rattles off a factoid that he snagged from USA Today earlier in the day. By the way, he gets his name from Mike Dexter, the douche in the epic film, Can’t Hardly Wait. This is the guy who thinks he is the bomb, but in actuality, nobody can stand him.

The Psu-Psu-Pseudos – This is a staple at the OTB or any Sportsbook in Las Vegas. Yes, it’s the pack of usually four, but up to 10 “dudes” in their mid-to-late 20’s, even early 30’s pretending to be high rollers. These guys roll into the OTB with the sole intent on placing a handful of $10-$20 wagers, including a “ballzy” $30 trifecta box. Yet, you’ll see these guys clenching their ticket in their lifeless hand as the race ensues as if they are holding a $2000 betting slip. And you’ll always know when they make pull off a $15 “across the board” winner, because they won’t shut up about it. Wait, did I just describe myself?

The Michael Jordan – These guys just know what they are doing. Customary profile is loafers with no socks, short khaki shorts. They are the big fish in the small pond filled with minnows…they are a whale, is more like it. They carry a paper tucked under one arm with their favorite handy-capping magazine in tow. We call them Jordan’s because they are strictly business and their intent is for a hefty wager, but they rarely have the lock picks. In essence they are degenerates in disguise. You can’t hide behind a cigar…we see through you.

The Girlfriends – Guys, bring your girlfriends at your own risk. Keep in mind that the guys who frequent the OTB don’t see a whole lot of these "girl" things. The OTB regulars will do everything in their power to start up conversations to show off their horseracing prowess to your ladies. Next thing you know, the poor girls are wrapped up in long-winded diatribes about the trainers, their stables, and the condition of the mud in Louisville. Undoubtedly, the girls will respond with a comment like, “Ooooh, that one has cat in the name. I love cats.”

The Preston Winchester III – These guys are the worst. This is the guy who rolls in and wants to make a show of how much money he is about to bet. This guy has seen the derby on TV and thinks it is a fashion show and that his Derby party in the Upper East Side is going to be “the” place to be on Saturday. So, he needs to roll into his party with OTB tickets showing big money bets. Little does he know, half of the people in the OTB would probably follow him out and slit his neck if they wouldn’t miss the race in order to do it.

In addition to familiarizing yourself with the cast of characters, you will need to know how to place a bet. The best advice I can tell you is use the automated machine. The OTB is a scary place and you will be made to feel inferior in every way possible when you go to the counter. Granted, if you go to the automated machine, you have about a 15% chance of placing the bet you actually intended, but you do not have to expose yourself to the humiliation of being embarrased by the OTB henchmen. True story, I cone accidentally won $600 doolars by betting my horse at the complete wrong track (aka, during the derby, but not the derby). Plus, when you bet with the automated machine, you can come back and insert your tickets to check if you won. Believe me, if you are inexperienced with the OTB, there is a solid chance that you will not know if and how much you won. This is a good thing.

Well, I hope this little tutorial inspires everyone to go out and blow some money. Considering the state of economy, I can't think of an easier way to get out of those financial troubles than to head over to the OTB. Until next time, D-Gens. Out.

How Bad Are the Lions on Draft Day?

Lions fans and non-Lions fans alike perpetually joke about the woeful draft history of the Matt Millen era, but today over lunch (two crunchy chicken tacos, one soft corn tortilla steak, side of Mexican rice, some chips and uber mediocre salsa), I poured through the draft analysis in the recent Sporting News and saw this woefulness quantified.

The Sporting News issue puts forth a solid team-by-team needs analysis, but what I really love about their draft issue is that there is a team-by-team grade for the last 5 years of draft performance with legit stats to back it up. The issue lists the total number of draft picks over the past 5 years, the number of studs (loose term, but we can all pretty much agree on who is a stud and who isn't, so I trust 'em), number of starters, number of backups, number of players on other teams, and number of players no longer in the NFL.

Guess who received the worst grade? Yup, the Lions earned themselves a D-. Of the 36 picks the Lions selected in the past five drafts, they landed zero studs and only five starters. What really seals the awesomeness of this team's level of failure though, is the number of players no longer in the league.

11 of the 36 picks are not even in the NFL.

Remember, that's just a five year history. Maybe if this was at least a ten year history, that would make a little sense, but come on, that means over half those guys were drafted in the past three seasons. They aren't even 25 yet! That is 31% of all picks that are not even in the damn league.

Well, we can only continue to hope that the new administration will have a better track record. This is a key weekend coming for Detroit football as the Lions have one of the most stacked draft days they have ever seen and may ever see again. It's not often you get the first pick in the whole draft, another first round pick, and an extra 3rd and 5th rounder. The Roy Williams trade to Dallas was in my mind the best personnel move the Lions have probably ever made in my long time as a fan. I'm not exaggerating for once; I mean that. Now let's hope they take the opportunity to make this team a powerhouse on the defensive side of the ball.

For the record, my opinion on the consensus Matt Stafford pick in the first spot is "ignore the roar." I'm with the contrarians who say trade down (if anybody actually wants to trade up in this crap class of top picks) or let the clock run out. Either way, I'd take Aaron Curry (and Laurinaitis later). Risking another dud quarterback is just not a safe risk to take. The team needs to fill way too many holes with safe picks that will provide some return to risk yet another default.

As per usual, the optimism is a flowing with a little over a week to go and we're crossing our fingers for a big weekend. If there's one thing I always say that's great about being a Lion's fan, it's that the off-season is always a lot of fun. Hopefully, we'll have some reason to celebrate.

Have We Not Suffered Enough?

Really, Greg Paulus? While we're at it, let's see what Bobby Hurley is doing. Maybe he'd like me to wash his car? Is there nothing sacred?

Cabrera Homers Twice, Owns Blue Jays

In light of the Tiger's unfathomably disappointing 2008 season, Miguel Cabrera obviously provided one of the lone bright spots. Amidst the heaping steamy pile of losses, Cabrera stashed away a .292 batting average, 37 home runs, and 127 RBIs in what was not quite a MVP caliber season, but it wasn't that far off either.

Well, thus far in the 2009 season, Cabrera looks like he wants a full scale run at it. Through three games, Cabrera notched 3 multi-hit outings and currently wields a modest .700 average. Last night, he tallied two dingers and 4 RBIs to give the Tigers their first win of the season, and more importantly, avoid the 0-7 start that we were all thinking of in the back of our minds.

Sure, it's early and this could be a flash in the pan, but once Ordonez and Granderson start hitting, the top of this order should be one of the best in baseball. And hey, we're already better than the Yankees.

A Zoom Zoom in a Zoom Zoom

With two new stadiums in my neck of the woods in the new Mets and Yankees digs, I'm hoping to make a solid effort to pay a little attention to baseball this year. I say it every year and it usually lasts about two weeks before the reality sets in that fantasy baseball sucks dong and watching games is only fun at the ballpark.

Still, this year, I will stick it out. Hell, I made it out to the first ever baseball game played at Citi field, even if it was a St. John's game. Nice place though, Citi Field. The food is not all its cracked up to be, but there are lots of good spots to hang out besides the actual seat, Caesars Palace and up by the scoreboard being the best.

Anyway, the problem is the Tigers look like crap again. Off to an 0-2 start against the Jays, things are looking a little grim. The starting rotation looks fine as does the offense, so it's clear that the success or failure of the entire season rests in the hands (or Sega Thumb) of one man, Joel Zumaya. Without Zumaya, we have no hope. Maybe that's hyperbole, but with the likes of Rincon, Rodney, Lyon and Robertson in the bullpen, I honestly think with Zumaya there's playoff potential, without, there's 90 loss potential.

Zumaya is allegedly about a week away from resuming activity in the minors and hopes to be back in two weeks. Thus in about two months Zumaya should be back and playing Tiger baseball. Are the Ghosts the least bit optimistic? No, but the thought of his return would certainly increase the odds of an interesting season for a Tigers fan. After last season's disappointment, we could sure use a little zoom zoom in our zoom zoom.