1759
by civ ollilavad
Detroit Free Press baseball writer analyzes the Tigers failure and future:
It's not quite over. Not yet, not as long as Miguel Cabrera stays healthy and Mike Ilitch stays rich. Still, when Hernan Perez ended the Detroit Tigers' season by hitting into double play Sunday, it felt like the end of an era and the end of relevant baseball in Detroit.
The Kansas City Royals are the darlings of the sport now, or at least of the Central Division.
And the Tigers?
Well, they're the Midwest's version of the New York Yankees, a big-spending, star-chasing, brand-building outfit whose fans no longer enjoy a playoff chase. It's all about the ring now, and has been for a while.
Enough with the tease.
If 2006 was cute, then 2014 was its opposite: a six-month horror show, bereft of joy, filled with late-inning anxiety. The run to this year's postseason felt heavy from the start. No wonder the champagne spray last week tasted like relief.
And yet, before we list the litany of everything that went wrong, and before we look ahead to an uncertain future, let's give a nod to what went right. The last nine years reminded this region what meaningful baseball looked like and showed us how much more fun the summer can be when you care about a score in July.
Six of those years involved a playoff chase. Five of them ended with a spot in the postseason. Remarkably, not until this season did the Tigers lose before the league championship series. If you think that's just a bunch of sunshine, talk with those who love the Oakland A's.
That squad blew a four-run lead in the eighth inning and lost in extra innings in the AL wild-card game, after sporting baseball's best record at the halfway point.
The team with the best record in the American League, the Los Angeles Angels, just got swept. The team with the best record in the National League, the Washington Nationals, is about to. So yeah, baseball can rip your heart out.
But this isn't about those other pretenders, it's about your pretender. And that's what the Tigers were this season: a squad good enough to squeak into the playoffs but too flawed to stay there.
And it ain't just the bullpen.
Sure, that's the easiest place to start, and had the relief guys been even mildly competent, we'd be talking about Game 4 tonight, and whether Rick Porcello could find his way out of a September slide.
Yet isn't that the point, too? That this was always about the starting pitching?
It's easy to criticize the model of hoarding top-shelf starters and big bats now that it has failed for the fourth year in a row. I already can hear the questions: What about speed? Defense? A third-base coach? A more creative manager?
Fair points all, ones that general manager Dave Dombrowski must seriously consider this winter. But before we dismiss the current structure, let's remember this: Didn't the Baltimore Orioles just take down the Tigers with a similar makeup?
Baltimore was built on starting pitching and power, too. It had the third-best rotation in the league and hit a lot of homers. The difference between the teams was performance.
The truth is Max Scherzer and Justin Verlander didn't pitch well in the postseason. If they had, I'm not writing this column. Not now, anyway.
Though I'm guessing I'd be writing it sooner or later. This year's team simply wasn't good enough.
What stung so much Sunday wasn't that the Tigers underachieved, it's that last year's team did.
The cloud of Game 2 remains. Joaquin Benoit's hanging slider. Torii Hunter's somersault over the fence. A team on the verge of a winnable World Series blew it against the Boston Red Sox, though it's true that Cabrera's groin injury hurt their chances.
Losing to the Red Sox remains this era's most crushing defeat. The Tigers knew they had the best team in the game. They just didn't win. It happens, I suppose. A team gets hot. Heck, a batter gets hot, and one swing changes a season.
Sometimes the other teams simply have been better (the Texas Rangers in 2011). Sometimes the other teams were hotter (the San Francisco Giants in 2012). And sometimes the Tigers played poorly (the World Series in 2006).
This postseason, we saw all three.
So where do they go from here?
Scherzer almost certainly is gone. Victor Martinez could be gone. Torii Hunter, too. This team is old and expensive, the manager young and stubborn.
Brad Ausmus' decision to use Joba Chamberlain and Joakim Soria in the eighth inning of Game 2 is the blunder of the year. For whatever reason, he didn't have it in him to try Al Alburquerque, whose numbers in the previous month were far better than either of those pitchers.
That sort of lock-down thinking will have to change going forward, especially as Dombrowski tries to remake the team.
Ausmus is smart and witty and related well to the players. He just didn't display enough moxie to maneuver this team in crisis --though, in the end, it might not have mattered. The flaws were simply too deep.
That falls on Dombrowski, who made several smart moves last winter -- J.D. Martinez, Ian Kinsler -- but undone by his bullpen signings and the Doug Fister trade. Fister alone might not have made the difference, but Dombrowski should've gotten players to help immediately.
This team was built to win now. Not five years from now. In theory, trading for the future is fine, just not when the owner is in his mid-80s and is desperate for a title.
So here he is, overseer of a club that couldn't quite make it, full of aging stars who aren't quite the same, handcuffed by a roster that isn't quite deep enough. Maybe a couple of those stars return and a couple who already are signed regain their form.
It's possible that Justin Verlander and Anibal Sanchez join David Price to form a very good 1-2-3 next year, and perhaps Porcello takes that final step. This rotation could be a foundation, and if Martinez re-signs or a similar bat comes in, this team will contend in the division once more -- if the bottom of the order and the bullpen are rounded out.
Dombrowski faces his most challenging off-season in years, since at least 2009, when the Tigers lost to the Twins in Game 163 and he knew that he needed more firepower.
He does now, too.