Yanno, before I ever started this blog my father said to me “Son, if you’re going to do this, I need to warn you that it is not easy. You may lose some people you hold very close to your heart while doing this.” Now sure, that’s a complete lie. My dad, if he knew I even had a blog would probably say something like “What in the fuck is a blog” or “Why don’t you get a real job” or “You’re so disappointing.”

But regardless of what my Dad may or may not have said to me the sentiment stands true. And today I’m feeling it harder than ever. Yesterday, I posted this picture on Instagram:

And in tagging the people in the photo I found Omar Vizquel, no problem. The third guy, gotta be honest, no idea who that is. I even asked a friend (not that that proves anything) and he didn’t know either. But whatever. Fuck him. This story is about Miggy. Not mystery meat on the right.

I went to tag MVP-Triple Crown-Winning-and-my-favorite-Detroit-Tiger-probably-of-all-time and came up lame. What do I mean by lame? I mean I blew out both hammies and broke both of my ankles before even leaving the batters box.

He blocked me.

Yes. Miguel Cabrera, the guy who swings the biggest dick in the Detroit Tigers professional baseball team’s clubhouse blocked me. Me, some early onset balding dude named Frank whose blog currently has 88 Twitter followers. How do I know he blocked me? I tried to tag him in that photo I showed you above of Little O and No Name Magoo and nothing came up. PROOF:

Here is me searching for his handle directly. His handle is @miggy24.

He doesn’t show up. So I find a link of his handle, I go to the Tigers’ Instagram and click a photo he is tagged in, it takes me to some whack-ass version of his Instagram. Which reads “710 posts”….promptly followed up by “No posts yet.”

Alas, panic has now set in. I go over to my personal account and try the same mumbo-jumbo.

I find him and can view his profile simple as do re mi A B C 1 2 3. So now that I’ve come to this realization, I have to wonder what in the fuck I did to piss off my favorite player on the Tigers. Okay I’ve made fun of Nick Castellanos, Verlander, and James McCann, but there is no way he can actually care about that/read the English I wrote it in.

All I can think of is mayyyyyyyyyybbbbeee it was this:

Which literally had nothing to do with Miguel Cabrera. But like maybe his PR team said like “ayyo we gotta eliminate all traces of alcohol abuse from your tagged photos so let’s just block the guy tagging you holding handles of whiskey whose name is directly tied to alcohol.”

So now I’m in a tough spot. Miggy- I’ll delete the photo, I’ll do that for our friendship. Just say the words (in English) and it’s gone. And I want to say I’d do anything to get you to let me follow you again, but I won’t cut down the alcohol jokes because quite honestly I don’t love you just because you hit the living piss out of the ball and are a silly individual in general, I love you because you booze. You booze like a savage animal and it makes me feel like we have a connection. And I’ll never let that go. So I guess this is just how it has to be. For now. I have a feeling you’ll come around. Love you 2-4. #eatemup 👑👑👑 🍾

– Frank