The following does not explain why the Twins won last night, nor does it necessarily even belong on this blog...but it does explain why I had almost 40 texts in my inbox this morning, most of which were sent while I was at last night's game. It also helps to understand the Skittles in the previous post.
K at 7:13 pm Blackburn walked Wise on 5 pitches..not promising
7:14 pm annnnnnnnnnnnd double play.
B at 7:18 pm: was it supraction or talent that got baker out of that mess?
7:27 pm: drat thought Delmon had that
K at 7:29 pm: I know! Oh well…at least we’re making buhrle work hard.
B at 7:33 pm: yup – now if we can just get the sox offense to suck.
K at 7:35 pm: How do you propose we accomplish this? Laxatives? Tigers?
B at 7:37 pm: why not Tigers who’ve been given laxatives?
K at 7:39 pm: I think the two might cancel each other out. Ps bases loaded not good.
B at 7:38 pm: Has Blackburn been eating cake again?
K at 7:40 pm: must’ve been good cake!
B at 7:43 pm: How about vampire leprechauns?? Or wookies?
K at 7:44 pm: Gogo Gomez strikes again!
7:47 pm: Poison darts maybe?
B at 8:07 pm: Damn good cake!! Maybe yellowcake? Maybe angelcake? Maybe laxative cake?
K at 8:07 pm: Ewwww…. Or maybe he fed it to Buhrle?
B at 8:10 pm: Maybe Buhrle followed a skittle trail to said cake?
K at 8:12 pm: Yes! Clearly this is exactly what happened.
9:15 pm: A small observation – all white sox fans have nasty-ass greasy hair.
B at 9:18 pm: Ewww. In other news my dad kicks his legs in the air like a crab when Alexi swings at bad pitches.
K at 9:38 pm: Alright Joe, make me proud.
B at 9:40 pm: How does Justin feel about your affinity for DP Nathan?
(No communication for a while because I was chewing my fingernails off slowly in a Joe-Nathan-Induced panic)
K at 9:55 pm: Now that right there is why I love baseball.
B at 9:58 pm: Expand please. Victory? Tension? Morneau’s booty?
K at 10:00 pm: All of the above. And I don’t think Justin is jealous of my affection for joe Nathan. He understands – pirates are hot.
...and then it deteriorated into discussions of Lint balls and swinging up onto a poop deck with a martini in one's teeth.