The turning points

Miguel Cabrera stood and watched. The umpire called strike three. The stadium gasped.

And that pretty much tells the tale.

Winter is coming. Baseball, the summer game, bowed out officially and finally Sunday night, in a damp and chilling fashion that had little to do with the weather and everything to do with a Detroit deep freeze.

Four-gone conclusion. Before a Comerica Park crowd wrapped in hoodies and winter coats, wiping cold rain from its faces, the Tigers gave a last shrug of effort, the way a stabbed bull make its last lunge before collapsing.

And then they expired. Final score of the final game, 4-3 in 10 innings. The San Francisco Giants took, earned and absolutely deserved the 2012 crown. The Tigers were only in this World Series the way a hostage is in a closet, a muffled noise from behind a locked door.

“We got beat,” manager Jim Leyland said afterward. “They’re the world champions and they deserve to be the world champions.”

The good news is the Tigers took a lead for the first time in this World Series. The bad news is it lasted two innings. As Leyland said, tip your cap to the Giants – and while your head is bare, scratch it while pondering Detroit. A team that at times this season seemed to burst through its clothing like the Incredible Hulk could not escape of its own wrapping paper in this Fall Classic.

For all but a few moments in this Series, the Tigers were a corked bottle, a dammed-up river, glue in a drain. Nothing flowed. Nothing came through.

Cabrera gave them a brief lead Sunday night with his first home run of the Series, but by the time he had his next at-bat, the Tigers were losing and he struck out.

Delmon Young tied the game with a home run of his own. But by the next time he came up, the score was tied again, and he was the third strikeout of the eighth inning – following K’s by Cabrera and Prince Fielder.

Finally, in the 10th inning, Phil Coke – who insisted the night before “there’s no quit in any of us” – surrendered a single to Ryan Theriot, who hadn’t had a hit all series, then a perfect bunt by Brandon Crawford, then, one batter later, a single to (who else?) Marco Scutaro. Theriot raced home. The throw from Austin Jackson wasn’t even close.

Neither was the World Series.

Four-gone conclusion.

The turning points

Yes, Game 4 was better than the first three, but it was not the coda the Tigers wanted to their season. They still were beaten four straight by a magic steamroller known as the 2012 Giants. (That seems very San Francisco-like, doesn’t it? Something that might have rolled through Haight-Ashbury in the late 1960’s. The Magic Steamroller?)

But wasn’t it so?

How else do you explain a team that got exceptional pitching even from even its weaker pitchers, got amazing defense from guys you never heard of, got timely hitting from every spot in the lineup, and never stopped smiling. The Giants haven’t lost a baseball game in 10 days, having won the last three against St. Louis in the National League Championship Series and all four against the Tigers in the Series. They go home champions. There’s nobody left to play.

Four-gone conclusion.

Tip your hat. Scratch your head. The Tigers – who have done it before – picked a bad time to stop hitting. A team that has been plagued with waves of ineffective bats got plagued again at the worst moment, like a pimple on prom night, or a sick stomach on an overseas flight.

The Tigers lost their Series games by the following scores: 8-3, 2-0, 2-0, 4-3. When you look back on it, you land on several “what if?” moments.

What if Justin Verlander doesn’t get that visit from pitching coach Jeff Jones in Game 1, then throw the next pitch for a two-run homer to Pablo Sandoval?

What if Prince Fielder doesn’t try to hustle home on Delmon Young’s double in Game 2?

What if Miguel Cabrera doesn’t pop up with the bases loaded in Game 3?

What if Jhonny Peralta’s long fly ball in Game 4 goes a few more feet, into the seats, instead of into Gregor Blanco’s glove?

Ah, well. Playing “what if” is like trying to hold back the rain – something no one could do Sunday night. The fact is, the Giants outplayed the Tigers. As Leyland said before the game, “I can stand up here and try to paint the best picture, but we’ve got to go out and win a baseball game somehow.”

Couldn’t do it.

Four-gone conclusion.

Redemption stories

Don’t blame the pitching. With the exception of Verlander – and yes, that’s a big exception – the starters did exceptionally well. Doug Fister. Anibal Sanchez. Max Scherzer on Sunday night. Tigers pitchers are supposed to win games when they only give up two or three runs, not lose them.

Instead, it was a big power blackout. And what are some images that linger from this World Series?

Verlander calling curtly for the ball after a Sandoval home run? Fielder unwisely rounding third and sliding into home? Cabrera slamming his bat after popping up with the bases loaded? Quintin Berry telling reporters “I felt like I killed an inning”?

Was it San Francisco’s Barry Zito, a redemption story, on the mound? Or Madison Bumgarner, a redemption story, on the mound? Or Ryan Vogelsong, a redemption story, on the mound? Or Tim Lincecum, a redemption story, on the mound?

Was it the thudding disappointment of Tigers hitting into double plays? The meek pop of ball off bat when it’s destined to be a grounder? Was it the speedy feet of Gregor Blanco and Scutaro, who made the Tigers look like aching middle-distance runners?

Was it Leyland biting his lip and facing the questions he least liked to face, deflecting criticism of his players like a laser shield on a spaceship? Was it Bruce Bochy, the Giants’ manager, who seemed almost as impressed as we were that his team kept going and going and going?

Or was it Cabrera standing there watching strike three to end it, the pilot light of the Tigers’ heat flaming out on the biggest stage in the final moment?

A case for the defense

I’ll tell you a big part of what it was. The Giants’ defense. If that isn’t the reason these guys won the Series, it’s a really close second. There were the spectacular plays, like the diving catches made by Blanco or the swift death tag by Buster Posey on a sliding Fielder.

But more frequently, it was the tight efficiency of the basic out that kept the Giants above troubled waters. Their positioning was masterful. Their infield play was exceptional. They vacuumed everything off the dirt and turned every close play into an out at first – or a double play. Multiple times on Sunday, the Tigers had chances to outrun a grounder; they never did. They were always beaten by a step, beaten by some great throw or barehanded grab.

Compare that to the Tigers, who gave up several infield hits in Game 4 alone. They’re not bad. It’s not errors. It’s just the extra second it takes to get the ball out of the glove, the slightly off-target throw that puts a man on base. We knew this coming in. The Tigers were never going to win a series with defense. But they weren’t supposed to lose it to defense. Their bats were supposed to be the neutralizer, remember?

Well, consider that seven of the last 10 Tigers to bat in this series struck out, including Fielder, who was simply terrible at the plate in the World Series, hitting .071 with one hit in 14 at-bats.

So much for that plan.

There are many questions now for the Tigers. What to do with Young? The inevitable farewell to Jose Valverde – and the search for a new closer. How to make room for a returning Victor Martinez?

And how much of a hangover will this quick autumn death leave with them next spring?

All questions for another day. For now, towel off. Get warm. Light a fire. That was Detroit and it wasn’t Detroit. Either way, baseball is done, a four-gone conclusion, and the winter is going to be a little longer around here.

Contact Mitch Albom: 313-223-4581 or malbom@freepress.com. Catch “The Mitch Albom Show” 5-7 p.m. weekdays on WJR-AM (760). Follow him on Twitter @mitchalbom. To read his recent columns, go to www.freep.com/mitch.

Miguel Cabrera stood and watched. The umpire called strike three. The stadium gasped.

And that pretty much tells the tale.

Winter is coming. Baseball, the summer game, bowed out officially and finally Sunday night, in a damp and chilling fashion that had little to do with the weather and everything to do with a Detroit deep freeze.

Four-gone conclusion. Before a Comerica Park crowd wrapped in hoodies and winter coats, wiping cold rain from its faces, the Tigers gave a last shrug of effort, the way a stabbed bull make its last lunge before collapsing.

And then they expired. Final score of the final game, 4-3 in 10 innings. The San Francisco Giants took, earned and absolutely deserved the 2012 crown. The Tigers were only in this World Series the way a hostage is in a closet, a muffled noise from behind a locked door.

“We got beat,” manager Jim Leyland said afterward. “They’re the world champions and they deserve to be the world champions.”

The good news is the Tigers took a lead for the first time in this World Series. The bad news is it lasted two innings. As Leyland said, tip your cap to the Giants – and while your head is bare, scratch it while pondering Detroit. A team that at times this season seemed to burst through its clothing like the Incredible Hulk could not escape of its own wrapping paper in this Fall Classic.

For all but a few moments in this Series, the Tigers were a corked bottle, a dammed-up river, glue in a drain. Nothing flowed. Nothing came through.

Cabrera gave them a brief lead Sunday night with his first home run of the Series, but by the time he had his next at-bat, the Tigers were losing and he struck out.

Delmon Young tied the game with a home run of his own. But by the next time he came up, the score was tied again, and he was the third strikeout of the eighth inning – following K’s by Cabrera and Prince Fielder.

Finally, in the 10th inning, Phil Coke – who insisted the night before “there’s no quit in any of us” – surrendered a single to Ryan Theriot, who hadn’t had a hit all series, then a perfect bunt by Brandon Crawford, then, one batter later, a single to (who else?) Marco Scutaro. Theriot raced home. The throw from Austin Jackson wasn’t even close.

Neither was the World Series.

Four-gone conclusion.

The turning points

Yes, Game 4 was better than the first three, but it was not the coda the Tigers wanted to their season. They still were beaten four straight by a magic steamroller known as the 2012 Giants. (That seems very San Francisco-like, doesn’t it? Something that might have rolled through Haight-Ashbury in the late 1960’s. The Magic Steamroller?)

But wasn’t it so?

How else do you explain a team that got exceptional pitching even from even its weaker pitchers, got amazing defense from guys you never heard of, got timely hitting from every spot in the lineup, and never stopped smiling. The Giants haven’t lost a baseball game in 10 days, having won the last three against St. Louis in the National League Championship Series and all four against the Tigers in the Series. They go home champions. There’s nobody left to play.

Four-gone conclusion.

Tip your hat. Scratch your head. The Tigers – who have done it before – picked a bad time to stop hitting. A team that has been plagued with waves of ineffective bats got plagued again at the worst moment, like a pimple on prom night, or a sick stomach on an overseas flight.

The Tigers lost their Series games by the following scores: 8-3, 2-0, 2-0, 4-3. When you look back on it, you land on several “what if?” moments.

What if Justin Verlander doesn’t get that visit from pitching coach Jeff Jones in Game 1, then throw the next pitch for a two-run homer to Pablo Sandoval?

What if Prince Fielder doesn’t try to hustle home on Delmon Young’s double in Game 2?

What if Miguel Cabrera doesn’t pop up with the bases loaded in Game 3?

What if Jhonny Peralta’s long fly ball in Game 4 goes a few more feet, into the seats, instead of into Gregor Blanco’s glove?

Ah, well. Playing “what if” is like trying to hold back the rain – something no one could do Sunday night. The fact is, the Giants outplayed the Tigers. As Leyland said before the game, “I can stand up here and try to paint the best picture, but we’ve got to go out and win a baseball game somehow.”

Couldn’t do it.

Four-gone conclusion.

Redemption stories

Don’t blame the pitching. With the exception of Verlander – and yes, that’s a big exception – the starters did exceptionally well. Doug Fister. Anibal Sanchez. Max Scherzer on Sunday night. Tigers pitchers are supposed to win games when they only give up two or three runs, not lose them.

Instead, it was a big power blackout. And what are some images that linger from this World Series?

Verlander calling curtly for the ball after a Sandoval home run? Fielder unwisely rounding third and sliding into home? Cabrera slamming his bat after popping up with the bases loaded? Quintin Berry telling reporters “I felt like I killed an inning”?

Was it San Francisco’s Barry Zito, a redemption story, on the mound? Or Madison Bumgarner, a redemption story, on the mound? Or Ryan Vogelsong, a redemption story, on the mound? Or Tim Lincecum, a redemption story, on the mound?

Was it the thudding disappointment of Tigers hitting into double plays? The meek pop of ball off bat when it’s destined to be a grounder? Was it the speedy feet of Gregor Blanco and Scutaro, who made the Tigers look like aching middle-distance runners?

Was it Leyland biting his lip and facing the questions he least liked to face, deflecting criticism of his players like a laser shield on a spaceship? Was it Bruce Bochy, the Giants’ manager, who seemed almost as impressed as we were that his team kept going and going and going?

Or was it Cabrera standing there watching strike three to end it, the pilot light of the Tigers’ heat flaming out on the biggest stage in the final moment?

A case for the defense

I’ll tell you a big part of what it was. The Giants’ defense. If that isn’t the reason these guys won the Series, it’s a really close second. There were the spectacular plays, like the diving catches made by Blanco or the swift death tag by Buster Posey on a sliding Fielder.

But more frequently, it was the tight efficiency of the basic out that kept the Giants above troubled waters. Their positioning was masterful. Their infield play was exceptional. They vacuumed everything off the dirt and turned every close play into an out at first – or a double play. Multiple times on Sunday, the Tigers had chances to outrun a grounder; they never did. They were always beaten by a step, beaten by some great throw or barehanded grab.

Compare that to the Tigers, who gave up several infield hits in Game 4 alone. They’re not bad. It’s not errors. It’s just the extra second it takes to get the ball out of the glove, the slightly off-target throw that puts a man on base. We knew this coming in. The Tigers were never going to win a series with defense. But they weren’t supposed to lose it to defense. Their bats were supposed to be the neutralizer, remember?

Well, consider that seven of the last 10 Tigers to bat in this series struck out, including Fielder, who was simply terrible at the plate in the World Series, hitting .071 with one hit in 14 at-bats.

So much for that plan.

There are many questions now for the Tigers. What to do with Young? The inevitable farewell to Jose Valverde – and the search for a new closer. How to make room for a returning Victor Martinez?

And how much of a hangover will this quick autumn death leave with them next spring?

All questions for another day. For now, towel off. Get warm. Light a fire. That was Detroit and it wasn’t Detroit. Either way, baseball is done, a four-gone conclusion, and the winter is going to be a little longer around here.

Contact Mitch Albom: 313-223-4581 or malbom@freepress.com. Catch “The Mitch Albom Show” 5-7 p.m. weekdays on WJR-AM (760). Follow him on Twitter @mitchalbom. To read his recent columns, go to www.freep.com/mitch.