See? I hold the fate of a Major League Baseball team in my two own pasty hands.
Tigers lose miserably, 11-0. JTL rants about their ineptitude. (Tiger manager Jim Leyland may have also called out their generalized pussitude thus far this season; reports are sketchy.)
DATELINE: MONDAY'S GAME, 5TH INNING
JTL takes a break from being tag-teamed by Brazilian bikini-supermodels to check the score of the Tiger game.
JTL: "Hold on, ladies... gimme a sec."
JTL: "Goddammit! They're losing again! Looks like we're going to need the extra set of rubber sheets, ladies — whadda ya think?"
Esperanza: "Não conte com os ovos antes de a galinha botar."
Esmeralda: "Curta que a vida é curta."
JTL: "Wow. I actually don't know any Portuguese."
DATELINE: MONDAY'S GAME, 9TH INNING
JTL cringes as he checks the score... to see the Tigers have come back to take the lead (and eventually win). JTL takes all the credit. Esperanza and Esmeralda continue to prepare the Sex Hammock.
DATELINE: TUESDAY EVENING
Sensing a change in the breeze, JTL actually believes the Tigers can win. What happens? THE TIGERS MOTHERFUCKIN' WIN. AGAIN.
DATELINE: WEDNESDAY, 12:45 PM
Now irritatingly cocky, JTL tells his third-period Physics class that, like Archduke Ferdinand, no man can stop the Detroit Tigers. One eager student points out that the Archduke was actually assassinated, triggering World War I. JTL points out that he alone determines the student's mark.
DATELINE: WEDNESDAY, 12:46 PM
Student retracts statement regarding Archduke Ferdinand; suggests his "history-learnin' probly wasn't none too good."
DATELINE: WEDNESDAY'S GAME, 5TH INNING
Tigers are in the midst of clobbering Cleveland, 9-1 (after a grand slam by Edgar Renteria), and a comedic enterprise turns tired and laborious.
The moral of the story is this: The Tigers are back, baby.