Big League Stew's getting a lot of love here today, but 'Duk reminded me of another bit of Tigers news that I passed over in lieu of two-hour rain delays and matinee baseball.  (Plus, we're getting a bit of traffic from his post, which got me to thinking that we should comment on the story.)  We're talking, of course, about the revelation that Brandon Inge aggravated his oblique injury in bed the other night.

Wait, let me reword that.

Inge strained his oblique further on Monday night while pushing himself up on his elbow as he tried to lay a pillow underneath his son's head.  As someone who's not a parent, my initial reaction was that I'm glad I don't have any kids.  But that's entirely a personal reaction.  And really, I'm kidding.  I love kids.  They're our future.  They make a great accessory and conversation piece at grocery stores, coffee shops, and wedding receptions. 

I imagine, however, that any parent could relate to what Inge went through.  We do anything for our kids, right?  Inge was just making sure his son was sleeping properly.  I know the general reaction leans toward disbelief and amusement.  ("He did what?")  And as 'Duk pointed out, this can be added to the list of freaky injuries (a future book for Rob Neyer, perhaps?) that makes baseball lore so interesting.

Sure, this seems funnier because it happened to a professional athlete.  But you can almost hurt yourself doing anything.  I'm sure we all can share a story about that.  This winter, I threw out my back bending forward to put something in the paper shredder.  I could barely move and was laid up for almost a week!  I think I aggravated something that I may have done while shoveling show, but to anyone else hearing the story, it's "hurt back" and "paper shredder."  And for Inge, it will probably always be "strained oblique" and "pillow." 

Maybe Inge deserves some credit for being upfront about what happened.  (Though it probably would've come out anyway, like the news about Joel Zumaya's Guitar Hero injury.)  He didn't claim he hurt himself dirt-biking or lugging deer meat around.  But then again, what is there really to be ashamed of?  Inge wasn't doing anything stupid.  He wasn't violating any clauses in his contract.   It was just a freak thing.  One which happened to separate cartilage from his rib cage. (Ow.)  And one that'll bring us some laughs for the next couple of months.  Unless this adversely affects the Tigers' back-up catcher situation long-term, in which case Tyler Inge could be classified as a health hazard.

[Once again, thanks to the wonderful camera of Samara Pearlstein for providing one of the best photos of Inge ever taken.]