The other day I received a nasty-gram from a reader taking me to task for not covering the Winter Meetings with more gusto. I suppose that’s fair. Though, there’s not much going on as far as the Tigers are concerned and there are enough outlets reporting it. Nevertheless, it got me thinking.

As you’ve no doubt noticed, particularly since the Tigers’ season ended in Arlington, the offerings at The Daily Fungo have been sparse – and that’s been by design. Since I launched this blog in March 2006, I’ve never wanted to post something for the sake of keeping up a schedule. In fact, I think the “daily” component of this blog’s name was fraudulent on day two. But over the course of six seasons you still visited the site, left insightful comments and motivated me to keep cranking out the material. Thank you for that.

My goal was to never waste your time – though I’m sure I missed the mark on dozens of occasions; thanks for bearing with me – and to offer a perspective on the Tigers that you might not find elsewhere. I hope I did once in a while.

Thanks, too, to The Daily Fungo contributors: Ian Casselberry, Jim Craddock, Wade Fink, Len Gutman, Doug Hill, John Milton and Nick Shlain. I’m glad you were part of the team.

Finally, I send thanks to Craig Monroe for providing the inspiration for so much of the content in the early days.

Be good, everyone. It’s been a blast.

P.S. I’ll still be writing about the Tigers on Twitter. Follow me @DailyFungo.

Happy Thanksgiving Weekend. I hope you and your family had a terrific day yesterday.

After a month of self-imposed baseball exile, I’ve returned to the keyboard while watching the Red Wings game and chowing on green-bean casserole leftovers.

Verlander’s Hardware Store. The Cy Young Award was no surprise, of course, but the Tigers’ ace winning the A.L. Most Valuable Player Award took me by surprise. I always assume there are enough writers in the BBWAA that loath the idea of a pitcher – and a starting pitcher at that – winning the MVP. Lo and behold, the stars aligned and Verlander won both.

Driving to work the other day I listened to Jeff Joyce and Jim Duquette on XM railing about Verlander winning the award (Duquette said that Verlander should’ve been in the top five, but not the winner.) Of course, they both raved about Verlander’s season but decided that it was not a “historically significant” season when compared to other pitchers who won both their league’s Cy Young Award and MVP. To their credit, they called out writer Jim Ingraham’s leaving Verlander off his ballot and his rationale being that J.V. didn’t appear in 79 percent of the Tigers’ games. Whatever. I didn’t expect him to win the MVP, but he did – and he deserved it, just as much as Miguel Cabrera would’ve had he gotten any support. And really, who cares about these awards a week later?

G-Moneyback. In a matter of two seasons, Gerald Laird and Alex Avila have traded places as the Tigers’ starting and backup catchers. While I would’ve preferred they’d gone after Kelly Shoppach, I can live with Laird in a backup role for one season. And with Laird on board, we no longer have to wonder if we’ll see Victor Martinez behind the plate for the remainder of his contract.

Andy Oliver got screwed by the NCAA. Last month a 15,000-word article titled “The Shame of College Sports” appeared in The Atlantic and thanks to a long flight, I was able to read it all. I didn’t expect to come across a Tigers connection but there it was, under the subhead “Restitution”:

In 2008, Andrew Oliver, a sophomore pitcher for the Oklahoma State Cowboys, had been listed as the 12th-best professional prospect among sophomore players nationally. He decided to dismiss the two attorneys who had represented him out of high school, Robert and Tim Baratta, and retain Boras instead. Infuriated, the Barattas sent a spiteful letter to the NCAA. Oliver didn’t learn about this until the night before he was scheduled to pitch in the regional final for a place in the College World Series, when an NCAA investigator showed up to question him in the presence of lawyers for Oklahoma State.

(snip)

Just hours before the game was to start the next day, Oklahoma State officials summoned Oliver to tell him he would not be pitching. Only later did he learn that the university feared that by letting him play while the NCAA adjudicated his case, the university would open not only the baseball team but all other Oklahoma State teams to broad punishment under the NCAA’s “restitution rule” (Bylaw 19.7), under which the NCAA threatens schools with sanctions if they obey any temporary court order benefiting a college athlete, should that order eventually be modified or removed. The baseball coach did not even let his ace tell his teammates the sad news in person. “He said, ‘It’s probably not a good idea for you to be at the game,’” Oliver recalls.

If you get a chance, I recommend reading the entire article. Particularly if you think college athletes should not get paid. This piece might just change your mind.

Martin Prado. If the price is Delmon Young, go get him.

The Last Boy. I’m reading Jane Leavy’s biography of Mickey Mantle and about every three pages I’m tempted to put the book aside for good. Not that it’s poorly crafted, quite the opposite. In that regard it’s exceptional. But Mantle’s was one messed up biscuit of a personal life – thanks in large part to his horrifically bad decision making and his friendship with Billy Martin. Leavy portrays a guy who kinda knows he needs to grow up but when he’s maybe tempted to do so Martin drops by to drag him out to the clubs where fights ensue and the usual stuff you’ve probably learned about Mantle years ago. If you ever thought Martin was a low-life, read this book and your suspicions will be confirmed – and then some.

Finally, this Thanksgiving weekend take a moment to learn about the appropriately named hall of famer Norman “Turkey” Stearnes.

A quiet Southerner who spent his summers blasting long balls for the Detroit Stars and his winters laboring in the Motor City’s auto plants to make ends meet, Turkey Stearnes was one of the most prolific home-run hitters in the Negro leagues.

P.S. Happy 64th Birthday to John Larroquette.

It’s taken me almost a week to recover from the fan fatigue that overcame me during the ALCS. Truth is, there wasn’t much time for recovery after the ALDS so what could one reasonably expect?

Come to think of it, I’m fairly certain I haven’t completely bounced back.

After watching the Rangers bludgeon the Tigers in a terrifically played series, I just don’t have it in me to watch Nelson Cruz or Mike Napoli again, let alone that Rangers bullpen, until 2012.

That doesn’t, of course, mean I’m not pulling for the Rangers in the World Series. I’d root for any team – even the White Sox – against a Tony LaRussa team.

But since Brandon Inge meekly popped out to end Game 5, I have not watched a single pitch of any game. Chances are, I won’t.

Unless there’s a Game 7 and then, well, what’s a guy to do?

With a quick 2-0 lead in Game 6 of the ALCS, the Tigers had us believing that Game 7 could be more than wishful thinking. A couple of innings later, the season effectively came to an end.

It’s not good form to blame a nine-run inning on umpiring – Max Scherzer did most of the damage to himself – but a couple calls undoubtedly went against the Tigers that helped extend the inning.

In many ways, it seemed like the Tigers had no business playing in the ALCS when you looked at the Rangers lineup. But Detroit could’ve made quick work of Texas had they gotten a timely hit or two – check that, one would’ve done in many cases – in the first two games of the series.

Some other random thoughts:

Poor Brandon Inge has made the final out in the Tigers’ last two postseason appearances.

Was it ever more evident than in this series that the Tigers needed Brennan Boesch?

Watching the Rangers bullpen carve up the Tigers made me miss Joel Zumaya … a lot.

I thought the Rangers’ base stealing with a seven-run lead was about as bush league as it gets.

How tough is Alex Avila? We’ll probably find out shortly.

Did Ian Kinsler really think Al Alburquerque was throwing at him? Get a clue.

The worst part of any season coming to an end, especially one that fell tantalizingly close to a World Series appearance, is the long wait for the next season to get under way.

Because winter stands between the last out of a season and the first pitch of Spring Training, the wait in baseball seems all the more cruel.

But maybe not as cruel as a couple of these ALCS losses, Game 6 included.