The baseball gods have fled and my oracles are all broken. Like Verlander I wander alone and wonder what the future holds. Will I continue writing extremely specific predictions in the hopes that they coincide with a World Series title or will this too lead to discontent and defeat? Currently my gift is gone. I burn sacrifices and the smoke travels upwards, coiling senselessly, received by no one. Like the Tigers in a destitute time, I will try to trace the footsteps of these fugitive baseball gods and get things back on track. One thing is certain -- the old rubrics no longer apply; there has been a shift in the baseball cosmos.
In order to understand the patterns of the new world I must find new oracles, and this may take time. I would venture to guess exactly 13 days. Do not assume in my absence that I have died or no longer watch baseball. The truth is much different. I will travel south and search for new baseball gods in the Caribbean. There are secrets burried there from when Rick and JV went on their bender to make sense of last year's defeat. I will search the sand and the water for clues, seeing brightly colored fish and creatures that are both beautiful and dangerous. I will consume new liquors and foods while looking at the same stars, searching for the plan. I will follow baseball on a cellphone application thanks to a temporary international plan, but I will not be able to report my findings on BYB -- there is not an app for that, to my knowledge. I will send out an occasional tweet if you want to confirm that I still live. Or tweet at me, and I will confirm that you are alive and real and matter in this lonely universe during these dark times.
In my absence, I expect that the Tigers will win some games, but of course I cannot say for sure. I assume that Verlander will struggle and will even begin to envy Rick's success a bit -- we all find ourselves in situations we thought we never would and Justin is no different. Brad will be angry at his lack of control. Having spurned the baseball gods, he will feel helpless before this void of defeat and bad starting pitching. It is easier to scoff when one is winning. Torii will play bad defense and so will Rajai. Austin will be practically as alone as Brad out there, trying to cover an endless expanse of grass while rockets soar in all directions. Andy Dirks will continue to heal. Anibal will emerge as our best starting pitcher. DK will hold the faith and Lamont will despair. Donnie will finally move into his house and it will be anti-climactic and unreported.
On June 10th, I hope to emerge from my odyssey with a fresh understanding of life and baseball. Presumably the fog will lift and my eyes will be bright and clear again, penetrating into even the smallest minutiae and happenings of Tigers baseball. Until then, I will miss you all and hope that you can keep the faith, even when defeat after defeat assails the Tigers, as senseless and cruel as nature herself. Throughout these dark times even I can still hear the universe's song for the Tigers.
(Which is a long way of saying I am getting married and going on a honeymoon so I will not have time to write these for a while)