Nostalgia all over the place

Piece of nostalgia #1.
Remeber back in the days of yore (2 years ago) when the Rays were the Devil Rays and they were really bad at baseball? Then last year, they decided to become all awesome (I'm convinced that Jason Bartlett had a lot to do with this), lost the whole "Devil" thing and in doing so appeared to exorcise all sucktasticness from their playing. I was concerned they'd never suck again. I was wrong.
It's pretty obvious that last night, one of 3 things happened:

a) Demons were pissed at the Rays for shunning them last year and decided to possess their arms/gloves to make them screw up all sorts of plays, like so:

or, b) We surprised and distracted them so much that they couldn't help but suck.

or, alternatively, c) the spectre or Sir Sidney Ponson was already upon them, leeching bad baseball into the atmosphere and sucking all the life out of the Rays and also out of Jason Bartlett's hamstring.

I think all of these options are equally likely to have occured.

...which brings us to Nostalgia #2)
Sidney Ponson! Sir Eats-a-lot returns to the dome, pitting his 0 for 3 record against Slowey's 3 for 3. Not to jinx anything but I like symmetry. A nice 0-4/4-0 would be nice.


Undercover Nerd

Stinky and I have discussed the Twins problems, the fact that we are not doing the hitting the way we should, the fact that our starting pitchers (or at least, 2-4/5ths of them) are not pitching the way we normally do. We do not like to press the panic button, but when we have as many chances as we had last night, and we still fail to win...well...we feel not so good.

But there is this. At the start of the year we identified the Rays as the geeks who make good. Overlooked picked upon, and at the end of the season, ahead of you in the standings. But I sincerely believe that no geek, NONE, should be able to hit the ball as far as Carlos Pena hit Dickey's pitch in the 8th. Which leads us to only one conclusion:

Carlos Pena is an UNDERCOVER NERD
The Geek shall inherit the Earth.


Know Thine Enemy '09: The Tampa Bay Rays

Reasons we should splatter the Rays in a gooey greenish-yellow guck like a freshly swatted fly:
  1. Heavy Lies the Head: The Rays are the Kings of the American League, which is nice for them and all--but it also means that they have a big fat bulls-eye on the back of their uniforms. To some people it would be rude to spoil their fun, to me it seems only fitting that they should be undone by a team so similar to them--rather than the bloated pay-rolls of their NorEasterly rivals. *38 Loathing Points*
  2. Presumptuous: Speaking of the Rays rise to prominence, not to whine or anything--but we were scrappy before you Tampa, we were plucky and underestimated and overlooked and we've been overcoming adversity back when you were still debating color schemes for your uniforms. Get in line punks! *19 Loathing Points*
Reasons we should silently trap and release the Rays back to the wild, thus avoiding a traumatic experience for the kids:
  1. Existentialist Dilemma: We play a tough scrappy hard-nosed brand of baseball and so do the Rays, the Rays have become successful precisely because they modeled themselves after us to a large extent. So if we destroy the team that's better than us...we become them--but if we destroy the team that's a younger form of us...we will never become old enough to destroy the team that's a younger form of us. (My brain is exploding at the mere possibility of these thoughts.) *-16 Loathing Points*
Final Loathe-o-Meter Rating: 41 Loathing Points
(-5 From Last Year)
Punishment: Epic social embarrassment (at the Prom if at all possible)


At Last!

It's been a rather up and down year, much winning followed by losing, great games followed by not so great games, and for every insanely brilliant performance by Glen Perkins or Jason Kudubel there have been the not so good performances of Scott Baker and Joe Crede.

But the season is still young, and a few poor April performances and early-season losses do not mean the end of the world. And yet...the lack of a certain special something led to sadness in my heart.

And there it was, suprisingly, distractingly, down the first base line in Cleveland. I could almost hear Grady Sizemore's brain working.

"Sex Bomb, Sex Bomb, I'm the Sex Bomb. All of Cleveland turns me on! [Sigh] Trailing 3-1 in the fifth, time to ruin the day of everyone in Twins Territory! I'll just bloop one into right and stun the crowd by stretching it into a double, steal third, use my ESP to make Dr. Cakeburn throw wildly, then run home!"

"Sex Bomb, Sex Bomb, I'm the Sex Bomb. All of Cleveland turns me on! There we go, looping into shallow right, Cassila's going after it, here I go rounding first, it bounced out of his glove and my plan has come to fru---GUGUGUH-WAAAAAAAAAA?!?!?!?!"

For Nick Puto was standing there, ball in glove, and the surprised, the distracted, the SUPRACTED Grady Sizemore was out. For it was always the plan to have Casilla miss the catch, and knock the ball to Morneau, who would, in turn, throw Sizemore out.

You Grady Sizemore have been supracted--so keep your Tom Jones record spinning and maybe give the sieburns a trim. Better luck next time.


Know Thine Enemy '09: The Cleveland Indians

As Stinky so smartly pointed out: Shakespeare is awesome--so in honor of the Bard allow me to introduce this edition of Know Thine Enemy with allusions to our most famous fan.

Reasons we should foil the Indians through a complex interplay of poisoned swords, poisoned rings in poisoned goblets, poisoned balls held in poisoned gloves, and poison coated poisons:
  1. Chief Wahoo: Again I say, racial caricatures--Not Cool. Stinky may feel a little sorry for them, but until the Indians atone for their offense to a minority with an offense to a majority I will insist they suffer. Might I suggest? *32 Loathing Points*
  2. Bob Feller: The man has a museum dedicated to himself...that he built...that he charges admission too...*cou(LAMEASS!)gh!*. *17 Loathing Points*
  3. Battle for the Central: Many "experts" have determined that the Indians are our greatest threat to winning the central division this year. So, beating them, would be quite useful in the course of...you know...beating them. *12 Loathing Points*
Reasons we should foil the Indians through a magical and inexplicable Deus Ex Machina
  1. The curse: The Cubs have been moaning about their 100 years of pain for at least 99 years. The Red Sox wrote epic novels about their suffering. The Indians have suffered for 60 full seasons now--and the only thing that's come out of that suffering has been the Drew Carey Show. (Which is pretty dang bad, to be honest). Way to tough it out Indians--our empathy. *-30 Loathing Points*
  2. Major League: The original Major League movie is pretty dang funny. The second movie was horrifically corny and even funnier. That the Indians inspired two such great movies, redeems them (that they stuck the Twins with the extremely horrific third movie diminishes some of that greatness) *-8 Loathing Points*
Final Loathe-o-Meter Rating: 23 Loathing Points
(-4 Loathing Points from last year)
Punishment: A swirly...but not a super turbo swirly.


This has almost absolutely nothing to do with Baseball....

Disclaimer: I am a giant nerd.
- Stinky

I woke with sleepy eyes, and I recalled
That yester-eve we lost not one but two
Attempts to flay that cursed Boston team.
I wondered what could possibly improve
What seemed to be a horrid, dismal day.
I thought of Baker’s three two-run home runs
And Liriano’s struggles on the mound,
And wondered, will we ever live to see
Our Twinkies in the playoffs? And I saw
In my mind’s eye, Youkilis’ bat connect
With that small sphere of destiny, which sailed
Over the wall, too far to catch – alas.
Thus was our sad downfall embarked upon.

I tried to look on the bright side, and thought
Of Justin Morneau, and his lonely hit.
This only served to make me more depressed,
And so I drank a whole bottle of scotch.
Just kidding. But I felt like doing that.

I then remembered the inspiring bard
Who on this day (allegedly) was born
And whose deep wisdom often does inspire
me to insult my friends in tongues of old.
What words of wisdom, thought I, might he have
To bring some lightness to this most dark day?
Would Shakespeare, if he lived, have cheered the Sox,
Or would he drunkenly cry out “Go Twins!”
And throw a hot dog bun in Wakefield’s face
Or make a bawdy joke at his expense?

I searched the internet for solid proof
That had Bill Shakespeare lived, he would have been
A dedicated fan of our belov’d
Nathan, Mauer, Punto and Morneau*.
And then I came across this saying, which
In my mind, tells me all I need to hear:
“How poor are they that have not patience!
What wound did ever heal but by degrees?”

This proves, I think that Shakespeare would not cheer
The Yankees, or the Sox of any color**.
For as Twins Fans, we know the value of
Patience. Often do we wait for brighter days
(which usually show up around July)
And live in hope of that post-season dream
(which may or may not grace us come the fall)
Only to walk away in sad defeat,
After one game against the Oakland A’s***.
But still, we loyally flock to the dome,
Our rally caps most solidly in place
To cheer our boys for one more day, until
We take for ours that golden pennant race.

*Mmm…. Morneau
** This is called a “feminine ending." I remember such things from high school english.
*** 2006

Happy Birthday Bill Shakespeare!!!
We know you'd be a Twins fan. And we will immortalize you as such.


Know Thine Enemy '09: The Boston Red Sox

Reasons why we ought to thump the Red Sox with a tube sock full quarters.
  1. Pompous Smugness: Red Sox fans cannot help themselves. They are great. Totally great, utterly great, so incredibly great that the whole world would die if it couldn't revel in their greatness. (That's all true, just ask them.) Only the Yankees outdo the Red Sox on the smugness front, so only the Yankees would get a higher score in this category. *62 Loathing Points*
  2. Alpha Dog: With two world series titles in the last five years, the Red Sox are always in contention, always near the top of the pecking order, and they certainly act like that. It's quite simple, the Red Sox are the Alpha Dog, the American League pack leader. Now if you beat the Alpha Dog, you become the Alpha Dog. *18 Loathing Points*
  3. Old School V. New School: It's quite simple, the Red Sox are Old School baseball, hitting homeruns, drawing walks, moving from one base to the next to the next. This is the kind of baseball that lead to things like steroid abuse and the cult of Billy Beane. But there's a new style of ball sweeping the nation, the scrappy, speedy, stretch-a-single-into-a-double a-double-into-a-triple, sacrifice-the-runner-over kind of baseball. The Rays play that kind of baseball and won last year, The Phillies play that kind of baseball and won last year. We play that kind of baseball. It's time to throw down on behalf of the New School of baseball. Bring it Old School. *33 Loathing Points*
Reasons to swat the Red Sox with a mitten full of kleenex.
  1. The Enemy of my Enemy: For all their flaws the Red Sox do hate the Yankees, and drive them crazy. And I do like that about them. If you can cause hatred deep in the soul of the Yankees, you can't be all bad...mostly bad...but not all bad. *-49 Loathing Points*
  2. Tradition: The Red Sox do inspire great things, Stephen King's non-evil dead novels, John Updike's whole ouvre, Matt Damon's cinematic work, Ben Affleck's...well...Matt Damon anyway. Love of the Red Sox has led to great great things, recent evil not with standing. *-8 Loathing Points*
Final Loathe-o-Meter Rating: 56 Loathing Points
(+4 Loathing Points from last year)
Punishment: Whoomp upside their heads, say whoomp upside their heads.



This series, glorious and wonderful as it has been, has led to a few observations

1) It is very good to have one player get many, many, many hits in one game--we encourage players to continue doing this.

2) Umpires=Jerkfaces. I'm not sure what this is all about but it seems as though every time we're barely safe, we are actually out, and every time we barely tag out the opponents, we actually don't. Seriously...a little break now and then...nothing wrong with that.

3) Mike Scioscia is afraid of failure. Much to the chagrin of Twins fans Gardy is loyal...very loyal...a little too loyal to be frank. And if our pitcher is getting pummeled, shellacked and generally whooped up on, Gardy demands that said pitcher stick it out. Gardy also demands that our pitchers take out the trash, eat all of their brussel sprouts and solve world hunger between innings.
Twins pitchers don't always like this, but they usually succeed because of it...it is what we call tough love. It is also the opposite of what Mike Scioscia, Angel's manager, does.
Mike Scioscia is the manager who buys his pitchers video games, gives them ice cream sundaes for breakfast lunch and dinner, and is then surprised when teachers report that the pitchers are spoiled. At the first sign of danger, Mike is out to talk them through it, calm them down, and, more often than not, give them a hug and bring them out of the game.
This might make the Angels successful in the short run, but over the course of the season, they learn no grit, no determination, no guile.
Our manager may never have made a guest appearance on The Simpsons, he might be more cantankerous and less congenial than his southern California counterpart.

We love Torii, and it sounds like Mike Scioscia's a nice guy, but now you've learned a little bit more about failure. No need to thank us.



That is why you never leave a game early.
To everyone who left in the 7th: ppppppppbbbbbbbbbbbbbbttttttttt.

That one half inning makes suffering through the Blue Jays worthwhile. It makes seeing Torii rob Brendan Harris of a double worthwhile. It makes enduring Mike Socia's interminable visits to the mound worthwhile. It makes surviving the most annoying teenage girl in the universe (who sat right behind us, talked about everything that was not baseball, screamed at a deafening pitch and sang off key) worthwhile.

Seeing the Angels walk Morneau to pitch to Jason Ku-dubel, who, in addition to hitting a ku-dingle, a ku-double, and a ku-driple, then promptlly hit a ku-drand ku-dam ku-dome ku-dun to hit for the ku-dycle makes life totally worthwhile. I mean...just look at these happy people, don't you want to be like them?

Any game that can make us go from burying our heads in our hands in total despair to screaming, jumping up and down and accidentally knocking our rally caps onto the guy three rows ahead of us (sorry!) has to be the greatest thing ever. And it was.

Welcome back Awesome Twins. We've missed you.

Hero of the game: Do I even need to say it?

Know Thine Enemy '09: The Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim California on the Western Coast of America located on the Planet Earth of the Milky Way Galaxy

Okay, before I explain why we ought to pummel the Angels like Rocky pummeled a side of raw meat in his first movie, I feel I ought to vent.

I do not like this whole losing thing we've got going on. Like my partner in blogs Stinky, the Twins are instrumental in my happiness so, losing by absurd amounts of runs no es bueno. BUT--and as my fifth grade teacher would say...that's a biiiiiiiiiiiig BUTT--our losing is not the end of the world.  On the second Friday of last season we were 3-5 (that's a 37.5 winning percentage) the second friday of this season we are 4-7 (that's a 36.4 winning percentage). Different yes, end of the world different, no. Baseball seasons are not over after less than 20 games...only a truly stupid league would use such a small sample of games to discern the best teams in their sport (COU*football*GH!)

NOW: Reasons to pummel the Angels like Rocky pummeled a side of raw meat
1. Turn around: We struggled against the Mariners and the Blue Jays last year...and we struggled against them this year. If we keep doing well/struggling like we did last year, we will end up exactly where we were last year--good, but not great. We struggled against the Angels too...but if we turn that around and whoop their butts we'll end up better than last year--not just great, but the greatest. *4 Loathing Points*
2. Pretension: As the title of this post suggests, the Angels are trying a little too hard to appeal to everyone. The Yankees and the Red Sox have rabid fan bases and long histories appealing to the nation as a whole...the Angels want to be that kind of team too...just relax boys...be yourselves you'll be better off.  *22 Loathing Points*
3. Rally Monkey/ThunderStix: I said last year that the Rally Monkey was "pointless, irritating and obnoxiously overexposed." Perhaps the only thing worse than the Rally Monkey is the ThunderStick--though one alone is no where near as odious and reprehensible as two combining for a dull dimwitted thwapping. Just because the entire nation of Japan does it does not mean that we must do it too...I mean...we do not own robot seals do we? Give it up Angels. *91  Loathing Points*

Reasons we should thump the Angels like a Bozo Bop Bag which is fun for a little while, but ends up deflated in a corner
1. Torii: It's funny, when someone leaves the Twins we tend to ignore them, or just shrug our shoulders. AJ, Douggie M., Goozman, Jacque Jones...nothing...when you say Torii's name people smile, it cannot be stopped. He just radiates coolness and happiness. God bless the man...you gotta love him. *-65 Loathing Points*
2. Nick Adenhart: I think everyone knows Adenhart's story--top prospect, just won his first start of the season, killed by a drunk driver the same night. This is sad...very sad...sudden, tragic and not deserving of punishment. (Unlike Josh "No Remorse" Beckett...we will gladly give these guys a hug) *-34 Loathing Points*

Final Loathe-O-Meter Rating: 18 Loathing Points
(-38 Loathing Points)
Punishment: A hug that's a little too tight.




That's pretty much how I feel about tonight's game.


My heroes of the game are two:
1) Cuddy, because his home run made me smile, even though i knew it was utterly hopeless.
2) Halliday. I know he destroyed us, and I know this is bad but just hear me out. Scruffy saw Halliday pitch live agains the Yankees. He pitched nine shutout innings and made the Yankees just look stupid. And friends, in my book, anyone who makes the Yankees look stupid is a solid individual. If we're gonna get our asses handed to us it might as well be by someone we admire. So I guess he's more of a frenemy than a hero, but I thought he deserved a shoutout because, well...he's damn good.

Huh. Part II.

I love you all. I really do. And normally, I'd take this out on the opposing team by making mean faces at them or photoshopping them into some sort of life-threatening situation, but the time has come to take responsibility for our own actions.

Guys.... last night was UGLY. And we're not talking bridesmaids dress ugly. We're talking meth-addict ugly. We're talking shot into the sky with a cannon, splatted all over the ground and then beat 87 times with the ugly stick ugly.

I don't like yelling. I don't like anger or confrontation. So instead, I'll just passive aggressively glare at you, raise one eyebrow and say "You KNOW what you did." Cause guys... you do know what you did. But then I see this sad picture of little Scotty Baker and I feel bad for getting mad at my boys. Kind of like when I want to yell at Merlin after he chews my shoes or eats the cookies I left on the coffee table, but then he looks at me with those sad little puppy eyes and I can't be mad anymore. And then I hug him and pretend it never happened. That's going to be tough in this situation.

The following represents a ratio of my happiness factors. As you can see, Twins, your well-being is pretty influential.

Unacceptable. Fix this please.

All my unconditional love,



In your face other cultures!!

I will admit, I had a minor crisis of faith tonight. We'd lost ten in a row to Toronto, we couldn't handle a rookie slugger named "Travis Snider" (which honestly sounds like a kindergarten bully), the Blue Jays took a lead early and it seemed like no matter how well Perkins pitched he was doomed to go winless again.

It looked like we might supract our way to victory. After tying the game we got two consecutive hits that went a cumulative 50 feet. A supractalicious start. Just as the Blue Jays were distracted by the bunt hit possibility Morneau bombed one against the baggy that looked caught, but was just a single thereby distracting them all.

All of them, except Rickey Romero. Who defeated Master of Supraction Michael Cuddyer (gasp!) and Greedy Joe Crede. Apparently our Supraction skillz are a tad rusty since the off-season.

When the Blue Jays tied it up again I thought...not so good. And while I left work in the middle of the 9th I was morbidly convinced that the game would end in heartbreak while I was en route home.

But Ze Ubermensch held steady with two perfect innings (even if one was a little nerve rattling). I kept imaging Ze Ubermensch informing us all of "ze power of ze UBERMENSCH!! Ze Ubermensch Allows NUH-SSSING! NUH-SSSING!!!"

But true satisfaction came in the 9th. With Justin using his new found speed to score the winning run and finally give us a win over the accursed Blue Jays.

We said at the beginning of the year that the Blue Jays are like the foreign exchange kid in baseball. (Note: I say all of this as a proud teacher of foreign students, but to teachers foreign kids are unique and charming...to high schoolers they are just irritating). Exchange kids are new (lots of rookies on the Blue Jays), they are different (they're like us, only with accents), they are not interesting enough to command your undivided attention (name a sure fire Hall-of-Famer Blue Jay...still waiting), and they seem to turn up when you least want to see them (which for the Twins is all the time). Every conversation you have is irredeemably awkward and its all you can do to get away from them. So in future, Twins, Twins fans, and any immature high schooler if you see any students like the ones pictured below: run.


Um. So. First 5.5 innings were fine.
You know what helps with winning? Getting hits.
You know what also helps with winning? Not allowing the other team to get a gajillion hits (currently in my world, 19 hits = a gajillion. It might as well be a gajillion. That's just too many).
You know what doesn't help? Hitting a lot of pop flies. Hitting = good. Hitting very gently into a fielders glove = bad. These are basic rules, people.

OK I'm done talking about the debacle that was last night. No more will I dwell on what might/could/should have been. We're moving on. Here's hoping that this three game losing streak will be followed my an even more glorious 156 game winning streak.

Sending happy healthy vibes to Baker and Mauer.

[c'mon...who wouldn't feel 100 times better looking at those lil' guys. Maybe the solution to all our problems is cute puppies. I will think on this some more and get back to you]


Know Thine Enemy '09: The Toronto Blue Jays

As promised, our enemies posts are back on track...which means the teams will be back on track which means big money--Holla!

First lets look at the reasons to defenestrate the Blue Jays en route to a loud splat

1. Last Year: Like the Mariners, the Blue Jays came around at exactly the wrong time for the Twins last year, and caused a number of defeats that led to a one game playoff that led to a home run by the smoke monster man who shall not be named.  Look Blue Jays, we're contenders...you're...well...you're Canadian. Back off. *31 Loathing Points*
2. Border Protection: Vile Canadians are invading our beloved homeland. They've already won two World Series, they are sending many of their players across our border and such diluting of the American market with cheap Canadian alternatives has inexorably harmed our economy--begone Canucks! BEGONE I SAY!!* 
(*This shunning DOES not apply to Canadians who have migrated to the great white roof of the Metrodome: particularly if their names start with a J, and end with either an -esse Crain or an -ustin Morneau)
*28 Loathing Points*
3. Misuse: The Blue Jays are supported by MacKenzie Investments. Though I share a name with this investment firm, I do not support Toronto Blue Jays Baseball, nor do I support Canadian Investment firms or uncapitalized letter "K's". *14 Loathing Points*

Reasons to simply ask the Blue Jays to leave in a courteous manner commensurate with Canadian customs (rather than throwing them through a window).
1. Pye-McDonalds: Despite their status as low cost alternative Americans, Canadians are in fact valuable people in and of themselves. And sincere Blue Jays fans Steve McDonald and his family stand apart as excellent people. It's hard to break the heart of good people--we should do it, we just shouldn't do it cruelly. *-30 Loathing Points*
2. Sucks to be You: Despite their vile efforts to undermine our greatness the Blue Jays are really suffering from some pretty terrible circumstances. They have winning seasons, but not as winning as Boston and New York. They are underdogs, but not as underdoggy as Tampa and Baltimore. The anonymous team in the world's most anonymous nation...yeah, it sucks to be you Toronto...here, have some pity. *-16 Loathing Points

Final Loathe-O-Meter Rating: 27 Loathing Points
(+ 14 Loathing Points from Last Year)
Punishment--Spending all season on a tour bus with nothing but Celine Dion tapes to pass the time. 


Once again, my bad.

I was so pumped after the big fat victory on Friday night, that I assumed it went without saying that the White Sox were our enemies. But clearly, our offense seemed to feel bad for the pitchers on Saturday and Sunday and therefore flailed about like muskies on dry land.

It was nice for Delmon to supract his first home run of the year...but we need more, much more if we're going to win. Therefore I'll be back later today with an enemies blog to remind our boys in red and blue about the horrors of the Toronto Blue Jays.

So we know what we need to win. More hits. More Enemies posts. And much, much, much less Jim "The Smoke Monster" Thome.
He can kick Ben Linus' butt all he wants...but not ours.


Some thoughts...

Sadly, after the awesomeness of Friday and Mozart and 12 runs we have now been forced to confront the sadness of a shutout defeat.

As usual this sadness has been wrought by the evilness of Fox broadcasters. Last year, when the Twins played on Fox Saturday Baseball, in front of a (semi) national audience they would become flummoxed and fail...this year started in in a similar manner, with Mark Grace and Thom Brennaman ruining our trip to Chicago.

During this desperately desolate game a few thoughts occurred to your loyal authors.

1) Leaving Runners on Base=not so good--It's not that the White Sox were exceptionally better than us today, it was just that they were exceptionally better at getting runners who were on base to come in and score. We could have tied the game, if  we had hit the ball...also we might have won the game if we had thrown or caught the ball better...but we'll save that for tomorrow's INCREDIBLY OBVIOUS ADVICE post.

2) Football=stupid--I'm going to explain this simply to you Fox. Just because people wear football jerseys and enjoy football, doesn't mean it's a relevant topic during a baseball game. You know what's relevant to a baseball game? BASEBALL.

3) Luis Ayala=good--we approve of this.

4) Corgies=Better than Corky's--FIE ON YOU CORKY MILLER!!! FIE I SAY!!

5) Fox=obsessed with boobs.--Their network programming obsesses over busty women, sports programming, over guys without shirts on. One gentleman with a torso ample enough for two chest paint letters (the "GO" in "GO SOX") was featured more prominently than Ron Gardenhire (maybe if Gardy managed shirtless....). We could also mention Thom and Mark's obsession with the fitness and good looks of the "S" and "X"...but we'll be professional.

So Saturday stunk. But it was Fox's fault. Sunday will be wonderful, I promise.

Dies Irae

So...confession: neither Stinky nor Scruffy actually saw the awesomeness of last night's game (even though we are watching today's game). The truth is, we were busy. Stinky had to sing Mozart's Requiem, and Scruffy had to appreciate the brilliance of Mozart's Requiem.

But clearly, we were not the only ones who were appreciating the brilliance of old Wulfy Wulfgang, as is witnessed by the pre-game locker room banter in the visitor's clubhouse.

[Twins clubhouse. R.A. Dickey is sitting on the bench with his headphones on and a look of steely determination in his eyes.]
Cre-D (walking by): Hey man...whatcha listening to?
Dickey:  Just some music, to get pumped up.
Cre-D: Oh sweet.  Metallica?  Young Buck?  Satan rock?
Dickey: No, man.  Mozart's requiem.
Cre-D:.......oh.  That's, um.....oh.  OK.
Dickey: Just listen.  You'll understand.
Cre-D: [puts on headphones.  after a few seconds, his eyes widen and burn with the fury of a thousand suns]  BAD-ASS!!!!
Dickey:  I told you!
Dickey:  Here's what I'm saying - nobody appreciates the bad-assitude of classical music the way they should.  *sigh*

And so the Master-Librarian's i-pod was passed from Cre-D, to Justin, to Denard, to Delmon and on to Little Nicky Punto inspiring greatness amongst them all. Us Cellular Field dissolved in ashes. And throughout the White Sox dugout there was great trembling as the Twins descended to judge all things closely.

For truly, the Twins and Mozart shall be awesome and awesomer for ever and ever.




Watching tonight's game I came to understand a few things

1-Carlos Silva must really be in love to choose, CHOOSE MIND YOU, to live in Minnesota in the offseason.

2-My mother likes everybody, and wants everyone to do well, not just the local boys. It's just like when I was a kid and she wanted me to win cross country races, but not by so much that I would make the other kids feel bad (ps. me winning was not an issue)

3-As bad a track athlete as I was, I could probably out run Jason Kubel.

And yet, Kubel the great was trying, really trying hard, all red in the face and whatnot, and so, when we trailed and came back, I wondered what had gotten into the big fella. Which is when I remembered a spring training conversation relayed to us by our special investigative reporter/spy Merlin the dog (he has big ears...it works for him)

[A quiet day at spring training, bats cracking, birds chirping, sunflower seeds splattering, a gentle clipping sound of cleats leads to the encounter of our two most prolific sluggers]
MORNEAU: What's the matter Jason?
KUBEL: It's them
MORNEAU: Could you be more specific in case their are any Corgies with recording devices who will pass this on to bloggers?
KUBEL: Oh, yeah, sure...it's the piranhas. It's Denard, and Carlos, and Alexi and Nick. It's all those guys who get to run around real fast. I just have to trot now and then...and get thrown out at first base the rest of the time...when will I ever get to zip around the bases, like a wicked fast blur? When Justin? WHEN?
MORNEAU: Oh, Jason, you need some diversification in your portfolio.
KUBEL: Some whomanawhatta in my whattahooha?
MORNEAU: Diversification in your portfolio. You see, you and I, we're like investors who know one market really well. Like, snack chips
KUBEL: I love snack chips.
MORNEAU: Of course you do, and you know which brand is best, and whose coming out with new styles and new flavors and you can accurately predict which companies are worth investing in, and which you might want to sell your shares in.
KUBEL: Dutch Crunch's new Rutabega and Eggplant Kettle Chips will revolutionize the industry!!
MORNEAU: *chuckles* Well, that's what we all hope Jason. But you see, if all your money is in the snack chip market, and snack chips are suddenly pulled from shelves because of an outbreak of ebola in a rogue batch of potatoes you'd lose all your money.
MORNEAU: Jason, I'm being metaphorical.
KUBEL: Even metaphorically rogue potatoes are no laughing matter.
MORNEAU: I'm sorry, but you see, my point is, that if you have only one kind of investment, and that investment fails, then you fail. If you have only one skill (like power hitting) and you don't use that skill, then you fail.
KUBEL: So what do I do, Justin?
MORNEAU: I recommend buying Intricon. It's kickass.
KUBEL: I meant with my skills.
MORNEAU: Oh...well...you could always go for more runs. That way, if we ever trail the Mariners by two runs and have Cuddyer on second with two away we could hit back to back doubles that are made possible by our new found speed.
KUBEL: Will you help me?
MORNEAU: Of course.

For the rest of spring training nothing could stop Kubel from trying hard now, even if it was so hard now, he was trying hard now. Soon Merlin reported that Kubel was getting strong now, even though it wouldn't be long now, he was getting strong now...and in the evenings he and Morneau would often follow the advice of strength and conditioning coach Carl Weathers by getting their stew on. Until finally, tonight, they were, gonna fly now.
And that's how, with two big power hitting white guys running fast, we still won the game. Fly on boys...fly on.


I've always been of the opinion that crappy things aren't really crappy, they just help us appreciate the good things more. Monday's loss, while sucktastic and depressing, made last night's victory even sweeter. Especially since it was my favorite kind of win - the bottom of the 9th, 2 out come from behind kind.

Disclaimer: I did not actually watch this game - I was in choir rehearsal for 2 hours and 45 minutes...from the hours of 7pm to 9:45pm. Trying to hide my blackberry discreetly behind my Mozart Requiem score so I could see the play by play got a little cumbersome after a while, so I reluctantly gave up.

After the game I immediately called Scruffy, who was watching the game with his family. At this point, we were down 5-3 in the bottom of the 9th. Scruffy related to me the following events:
- Gomez walks. ("Really? He didn't just...swing at everything?" "Apparently not.")
- Kubel walks and is promptly replaced by Brendan Harris as pinch runner (good call. Watching Kubel trying to outrun a wild pitch to first on Monday was one of the more mystifying moments of my life).
- Buscher walks.
- Excitement mounts.
- Denard gets a hit! Excitement mounts further.
- Casilla comes to the plate.
- Lots of yelling from the other end of the phone. I assume this either means we've won or the Metrodome just exploded.
- Turns out we won. YAAAAAAAAYYY!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm mostly impressed by Carlos Gomez's ability to draw a walk. I'm also cool with the Cuddyer-Gomez-Span outfield selection. Gomez kind of rocks. He reminds me of Torii the way he crashes into walls trying to make impossible catches. It warms the cockles of my heart and fills me with nostalgic images of Torii being carried out on a stretcher after whamming into a pole with his entire body. And plus, Cuddyer seems to be handling Supraction(TM) just fine by himself. So even though Casilla hit in the winning run, my hero of the game is Carlos Gomez, for his patience. :)


Know Thine Enemy '09: Seattle Mariners

Clearly, my failure to remind the Twins of our enemies led to last night's loss. Unsure whether they were friend or foe, we waffled our way to defeat. You could almost hear Justin thinking: "Should I hit this grand slam or not? Why didn't Peanuts from Heaven tell me what to do?!?! WHY!!"

So we lost. And it will be okay, because now here are the facts about the Seattle Mariners, our least favorite Angsty Poets

Reasons to avenge our first defeat through much gnashing of teeth and bone
1. Last year--The Mariners were the bane of our existence last summer. Just when we would get a lead or a little momentum the Mariners turned up on the schedule to ruin everything. With Raul Ibanez hitting and bizarrely obscure pitchers pitching. And we lost. We lost to the Mariners. White Sox we could beat. Angels we could beat. Mariners...nope. Couldn't do it. We failed...so you know what Mariners, YOU FAIL! *45 Loathing Points*
2. Starbucks/Poetry--Last year I blamed the Mariners for Starbucks but didn't know why. This year, I do. Starbucks encourages the writing of bad poetry and the drinking of foul coffee. As the city of Seattle is responsible for Starbucks and the Mariners are responsible for most works of angst riddled poetry (see the works of Griffey, Kenneth; and hernandeZ, feliX), these two forces combine to create one unholy beast known as: The Seattle Mariners.  For this cruel creation the Mariners must suffer. *85 Loathing Points*

Reasons to take a deep breath and calmly avenge our defeat through normal things like hitting and pitching
1. Griffey ain't all bad--Like most people who became baseball fans in the early 90s Ken Griffey Jr. was the guy we all wanted to be like. He climbed walls. Hit homeruns. Beat up on the Yankees. He made wearing your hat backwards cool. (It's just a shame he had to do a lot of these things at the expense of the Twins.) While much of baseball has fallen under a shroud of suspicion and disdain, Griffey has not. He's always been positive, always played hard, always been a guy to root for. He's back home in Seattle now, which is good for him--as long as he doesn't keep crushing us. *-32 Loathing Points*
2. Grandma Zoe--What can I say. I love my Grandma. And I'm sure that while she was happy about last night's win, she wouldn't jeer me if her life depended on it. And I'm also sure that when Adrian Beltre strikes out tonight (which, believe me, he will) she'll shake her head and say: "that's never been a strike Adrian...not once...not ever...not in all the times you've swung at it...". You've gotta love your Grandma. *-41 Loathing Points*

Final Loathe-O-Meter Rating: 57 Loathing Points 
(+50 Loathing Points from last year)
Punishment--Defeat by bludgeoning of bats upside heads.

Um. OK.

So....we lost the opener. To the Mariners.
Not quite the glorious comeback we were all hoping for, but, as Scruffy so wisely said "You can't' win 'em all."

It's less depressing when I think of it this way:
It was one game, out of 162. Last year, our boys went 88-74, meaning that if we were going to equal last season's record, we still had a 45% chance of losing this game.

It's more depressing when I think of it this way:
We lost the opener. To the Mariners.

To make up for this extreme depression, I got a hot dog and covered it with ridiculous ammounts of various condiments, such that I could hardly hold it in my hands to eat it.

I also happened to notice that it was very cold last night. I began to ponder exactly how many layers I would have to wear in order to not freeze while sitting outdoors for 2-3 hours in this weather. Answer: enough to make me look like a small waddly marshmallow. So, there's that.

OK on to the important things. Analysis of our loss. Here is my assessment of the more significant problems we ran into last night:
- Squandered opportunities with buddies on base.
- Too much grounding out to first.
- Not enough base hits.
- Ken Griffey Jr.

If we can fix these smiple problems, we're good to go.

...ok so it might not be as easy as I make it sound, but C'mon guys! We can do it!!!!

I'd also like to give a shoutout to my official hero of the game: Mike Redmond. Right after getting beaned in the neck with a broken bat, he promptly hits a double - our only non-single hit of the game. Well done. Just...please don't be injured. We don't have another catcher. This is my plea to you Mike Redmond - please, please feel better. We cannot lose you.


Peanuts FAQ

Occasionally Every day, I field a couple hundreds of questions from Rachel curious readers regarding various aspects of our blog. Since I'm sure you're dying to know the answers to these questions yourself I will create this handy FAQ section.

Q: "Why are you bowling pins?"
A: We are not bowling pins. We are peanuts.

Q: "Even more importantly, why do you have a tail?"
A: Because I am evil. Or plotting to take over the world. Possibly both.

Q: "And why from heaven?"
Stop asking silly questions.

Q: "Why is Joe Crede a wrestler with facepaint?"
Because. Read the entry.

Q: "You consistently characterize opposing players as vampires and as the four horsemen of the apocolypse, and have depicted them being punched in the face by Honus Wagner and ripped apart by your roommate's dog. Aren't you worried you're going to get in some sort of legal trouble for this?"
A: No. We have spoken to two lawyers on the subject. One thinks that we could get in trouble. The other lawyer thinks the first lawyer is full of crap. We agree with the second lawyer. Plus we have a disclaimer which clearly states that we will bake cookies for anyone who is offended by what they see here, and cookies solve everything. So do shark pits...but shhh don't tell. Additionally, our threats of violence hold no weight because a) Honus Wagner cannot come back from the dead and b) my roommate's dog weighs about 20 pounds. We only make unrealistic threats of violence because in reality, we are probably the two least violent and/or hateful people on the planet.

Q: "Why are you Twins fans? Do you just like pain?"
A: We believe in miracles. We also believe that awesome baseball trumps just spending money on guys who can hit the ball really hard and really far. Also Gardy is the coolest person ever born and it's criminal that he hasn't won manager of the year for the work he's done with the Twins. It's amazing how much they still win with young players and a meager budget, and we here at PfH are confident that one of these years, they will win just a little bit more than everyone else. And even if they don't, we still love them.

Q: "How are you so totally awesome?"
A: Years of practice.

Peanuts 101

It's a new season, a new beginning, and, we hope, a new era here at Peanuts from Heaven Incorporated. One where new people take a glance at our website and discover a love for the Twins, baseball and unabashed silliness.

To help in this regard we are happy to provide a more instructive glossary of the players, the team and the terms we use regularly on this site. Hopefully, this will help you all understand the greatness of the Twins, baseball and unabashed silliness.

Catchers: Joe Mauer--a be-sideburned omnipotent overlord, injured at the moment, if you believe the capitalist propoganda
First Base: Justin Morneau--an imposing Canadian that my co-author finds "dreamy" (particularly the backside of said first baseman), as such he has been proclaimed "the cute one" in our ongoing series of Sergeant Gardy's Lonely Hits Club Band (a roundtable discussion of the issues of the day, in silly clothes).
Second Base: Alexi Cassilla--Lithe, and agile second baseman...we are still searching for a photoshop identity for Alexi, please post your suggestions below
Short Stop: Nick Punto--better known as Little Nicky Punto, he is by no means a hall of famer, but he is pure, unadulterated scrappiness. His resigning was the highlight of our offseason until...
Third Base: Joe Crede--Crede has played mostly for our mortal enemies, the Chicago White Sox, but injuries made him expendable, and when you're expendable...you're affordable for the Twins (we don't have much money).
Outfield: There are three outfield positions in baseball, and most teams have three players to play them. We have four. Probably because we're totally awesome. We have left fielder Delmon Young, and right fielder Michael Cuddyer, also known as MASTERS OF SUPRACTION (see definition of supraction below). Carlos Gomez--an exuberant but erratic Centerfielder who occasionally doubles as velociraptor, a whirling dervish, and our own Ringo Starr wannabe--and Denard Span--a man who is totally awesome at everything, including poetic lyrics for Sergeant Gardy's Lonely Hits Club Band, and saving big money--complete the corps.
Designated Hitter: Jason Kubel--scruffy, paunchy, quite a good hitter.
Bench: Mike Redmond--he'll be subbing at catcher until Joe Mauer is healthy again--Brendan Harris--a utility infielder whose enigmatic play (silent and either inexplicably good, or inexplicably not so good) has made him Brendan Harrison the quiet one in the Lonely Hearts Club Band--and Brian Buscher--who plays like Harris, but doesn't have the witty word play in his name.
Starters: Scott Baker--our most experienced pitcher looks like your paper boy--Francisco Lirano--the erstwhile Johan Jr. is not quite the Cisco Kid of old, but he's still mighty impressive--Glen Perkins--the only pitcher left from our family fun eatery staff now that Denny's Reyes is gone--Kevin Slowey--also known as Slo-Slo, Carlos "Go-Go" Gomez's sidekick--Nick Blackburn--the fifth starter who was driven mad by Ozzie Guillen's mockery became a diabolical evil genius known only as Dr. Cakeburn.
Relievers: In addition to guys we don't know so well--Luis Ayala, Craig Breslow, Brain Duensing, Matt Gurrier and Phillip Humber--there is knuckleballer RA Dickey--A spot starter who may seem to be a mild mannered literature major, but is in fact the MASTER LIBRARIAN!--set-up man Jesse Crain--a guy so kind to we Peanuts that he has become ZE UBERMENSCH--and dominant closer Joe Nathan--who spends his non-pitching hours as Dread Pirate Joe Nathan.
Management: General Manager Billy Smith, tries to acquire the talent that makes us great, seems to lack confidence, which is why we urge him to be like VH1s: The Pickup Artist. Meanwhile actual team manager Ron Gardenhire is so totally awesome that I cannot adequately summarize our feelings here, so instead look here, here, here, and here.

We have our own language here, so please peruse this glossary to help you understand things a little better.
Supraction--a combination of surprise and distraction that manages to overwhelm all manner of opponents. Think of it: you're playing a game, pitching, hitting, fielding, then all of a sudden one little crazy Metrodome thing happens, you're surprised, you're distracted and your down by five runs. This is the fine art, of supraction.
Enemies--Our opponents during any given game
Loathing points--A completely random scoring system that determines who we like, and who we don't.
Frenemies--Teams we are not playing at this moment, that we might not love but that we don't utterly hate.
Yankpires--Frenemies does not apply to Yankees. Because, following a reading of the book Twilight my inimitable co-blogger discovered that the Yankees may in fact be Vampires. If vampires run faster, jump higher and hit/throw harder than anyone else, and the yankees do the same...it logically follows that the New York 9 is in cahoots with a dark league of evil.  We are opposed to dark leagues of evil.


Season Preview VI

Okay, either you've read these in sequence (ie I-VI) or you're about to read them in order of their appearance on the blog (ie VI-I). Whichever way you go about it it all begins the same way:

Baseball is like school, the teams are like the kids in the high school, every year some succeed, some fail, some are oohed and awed over, some are utterly ignored, some attain eternal glory, others eternal infamy. Through it all they focus on simple things beginning with their own class (their division or league), their peer group, who provides a reflection of what they should be doing at any time (salary strata--i.e. Red Sox/Yankees in one group, Twins/Royals/A's in another), and their own particular style (either of dress, behavior or playing the game)

Instead providing insightful analysis, we here at Peanuts from Heaven Inc have decided to preview our season by looking at MLB's 2009 Yearbook...and mocking the people we find within. So whether you've already read them, or are about to discover just how silly we are...we hope you see the striking similarities, just as we saw them.

Here now, the home of the future world champions, and therefore most important division ever: The American League Central
1st--Minnesota Twins
The Coolest People in History
Quote: "Better to keep one's mouth shut and be thought a fool than to open it and remove all doubt...BLAZOW!"
Where they'll be in 6 months: Ruling the World

2nd--Cleveland Indians
Music Geek
Quote: "*Scoff* You're sharp!"
Where they'll be in 6 months: Composing music for the world overlord's propoganda

3rd--Chicago White Sox
Quote: "Whatcha gonna do about it?"
Where they'll be in 6 months: Janitor's in world overlord's lair

4th--Kansas City Royals
Drama Geeks
Quote: "I'm a Ninja!! Kwow-kwow-kwaaaachaaaaaaaa!!!!"
Where they'll be in 6 months: Acting in the world overlord's propoganda

5th--Detroit Tigers
Tough kid from the wrong side of the tracks
Quote: "You just wouldn't understand..."
Where they'll be in 6 months: Kicking ass and taking names on behalf of the world overlord.

Season Preview V

Baseball is like school, everyone has their own class (division), their own circle of friends (salary strata), their own inimitable style (way of playing the game)

It is in that spirit that this year's Peanuts from Heaven Season Preview focuses on the high school archetypes embodied by each team, the memorable things they have done, and where they'll undoubtedly end up when the season ends six months from now.

We go now to the division everyone but us loves: The American League East
1st--Boston Red Sox
The Queen Bee Wannabe
Quote: "Don't feel so bad, it's not your fault you're poor."
Where they'll be in 6 months: begging for your sympathy because the first round of the playoffs is "like, totally hard," and "it's been like forever since our last championship!"

2nd--Tampa Bay Rays
Shrimp Turned Pimp
Quote: "The theory of relativity is very simple actually..."
Where they'll be in 6 months: losing the championship series, but winning at life.

3rd--New York Yankees
Queen Bee
Quote: "That outfit is SO cute. I'd totally wear that...if I didn't have so much money."
Where they'll be in 6 months: Out of the playoffs and into a shark pit.

4th--Toronto Blue Jays
Foriegn Exchange Student
Quote: "I'm not that foriegn, eh?"
Where they'll be in 6 months: Wherever the hell they came from.

5th--Baltimore Orioles
Dance Team Captain
Quote: "Wanna see my baton twirling."
Where they'll be in 6 months: not as bad as they are now...which is pretty is to do.

Random Interjection


We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you this sad frowny face:

This is my sadness for Scott Baker and his poor shoulder. Dear Scott Baker, you are totally adorable in every way and you kick ass. Please recover soon.

I expect that my frowny face plea will be taken with the utmost seriousness, and that Baker's shoulder will heal accordingly. If this fails to happen, there will be consequences, and they will not be pretty.

The end.

Back to you.

Season Preview IV

Baseball is like school, everyone has their own class (division), their own circle of friends (salary strata), their own inimitable style (way of playing the game)

It is in that spirit that this year's Peanuts from Heaven Season Preview focuses on the high school archetypes embodied by each team, the memorable things they have done, and where they'll undoubtedly end up when the season ends in 6 months

We switch now to the American League, beginning with the West
1st --Los Angeles Angels
Mr. All America
Quote: "I'm sorry my smile blinded you..."
Where they'll be in 6 months: Charming as hell, but not ruling the world

2nd--Texas Rangers
Quote: "Whatever..."
Where they'll be in 6 months: Still defying expectations by deciding between a flannel shirt and a leather jacket

3rd--Oakland A's
Grade Obsessor
Quote: "Is THIS the right formula?!??!?!?!"
Where they'll be in 6 months: Rocking back and forth on a window seat...crying.

4th--Seattle Mariners
Misunderstood Poet
Quote: "Winning isn't everything/everything is not winning."
Where they'll be in 6 months: Not winning.

Season Preview Part III

Baseball is like school, everyone has their own class (division), their own circle of friends (salary strata), their own inimitable style (way of playing the game)

It is in that spirit that this year's Peanuts From heaven Season Preview focuses on the high school archetypes that each team presents, the memorable things they have done, and where they'll undoubtedly end up when the season ends in 6 months.

Now that I'm back from lunch, let's take a look at the National League East

1st--New York Mets
Quote: "It's okay...my daddy will take care of it."
Where they'll be in 6 months: Failing out of the League Championship, and failing into a VP of Marketing job.

2nd--Philadelphia Phillies
Counter-Culture Kids
Quote: "Don't do what 'the man' tells you to!"
Where they'll be in 6 months: Working for the man (who whoops them in the first round of the playoffs)

3rd--Florida Marlins
Quote: "WOO US!!!"
Where they'll be in 6 months: Knocked out of the race, and knocked up by the dumb jock

4th--Atlanta Braves
Goody Two shoes
Quote: "Golly!"
Where they'll be in 6 months: Girls Gone Wild.

5th--Washington Nationals
Computer Geek
Quote: "Wanna see my new level 78 Blood Elf?"
Where they'll be in 6 months: Still trying (and failing) to get people to like them.

Season Preview Part II

Baseball is like school, everyone has their own class (division), their own circle of friends (salary strata), their own inimitable style (way of playing the game)

It is in that spirit that this year's Peanuts from Heaven Season Preview focuses on the high school archetypes that each team presents. The memorable things they've done and where they'll undoubtedly end up when the season ends in 6 months

Next up, The National League Central:

1st place: Chicago Cubs
Lovable Lug
Quote: "Hey there slugger! Sorry I knocked that bowl of soup in your lap! We're still buddies, right slugger?!?!"
Where they'll be in 6 months: Drinking away sorrows after another devastating postseason loss.

2nd place: St. Louis Cardinals
The Overlooked and Underappreciated All-Star
Quote: "Hey...I did that too, you know."
Where they'll be in 6 months: Practicing a winning smile in the mirror (it might get them to the playoffs next year)

3rd place: Milwaukee Brewers
The Fat Kid
Quote: "I can't believe I ate the whole thing..."
Where they'll be in 6 months: Celebrity "Biggest Loser", or crying into a bucket of chicken while watching the playoffs on their couch.

4th: Pittsburgh Pirates
Shrinking Violet
Quote: "*Cough* Sorry."
Where they'll be in 6 months: Who cares?

5th: Cincinnati Reds
Mr. Unknown
Quote: "Hey!....It's ME!...What do you mean you don't remember me?"
Where they'll be in 6 months: Somewhere we care about less than Pittsburgh

6th Place: Houston Astros
Dumb Jock
Where they'll be in 6 months: Facing a paternity suit.

Season Preview Part I

Baseball is like school, everyone has their own class (division), their own circle of friends (salary strata), their own inimitable style (way of playing the game).

It is in that spirit, that this years Peanuts from Heaven Season Preview focuses on the high school archetypes that each team presents. The memorable things they've done, and where they'll undoubtedly end up when the season ends in 6 months.

We'll start with the National League West:

1st-Arizona Diamond Backs
The Rocker
Quote: "Whatever man, all I need is music"
Where they'll be in 6 months: moping around Tower records following a first round loss in the playoffs

2nd-Los Angeles Dodgers
The Drama Queen
Quote: "oh. My. GOD! This is the most important season EVER!!"
Where they'll be in 6 months: guest starring as a barista in a CBS sitcom, utterly oblivious to how their season went.

3rd-Colorado Rockies
Quote: "**** You"
Where they'll be in 6 months: free on bail.

4th-San Francisco Giants
Hippy Stoner
Quote: "Dude, I just want to travel, and you know,  find myself, you know?"
Where they'll be in 6 months: in the exact same place...a year a way from contending.

5th-San Diego Padres
Stoner Stoner
Quote: "huhuhuhuhuhuhuh....cool"
Where they'll be in 6 months: staring at a wall (which will actually be more fun than watching the Padres play this year)


T minus 4 days!!!!

A;KDJPQIOHA;SDKFJ!!!!! I am so excited!!!!!!!!!!!
Baseball starts on Monday! Fortunately, my dad has tickets to opening day....unfortunately he only has two. Fortunately my mom is a kind soul and recognized that I would probably spontaneously combust if I didn't get to go, and shot my dad down so that he could invite me. So it all turned out well in the end.

In addition to kick-ass seats and season tickets, my dad also has this beautiful baby residing in his office:

I want to steal that thing in the worst way. I mean, I recognize that it's "real", and probably needs to be installed in the "new stadium", and that I probably would have to donate a ridiculous ammount of money plus my pinky toe and my first born child in order to actually own it...but couldn't we just bury it and say it was stolen by pirates...?


Anyways I digress.

Spring training was fun. I'm ashamed to admit though, that I wasn't really paying a whole lot of attention to the finer points of who was playing up to snuff and who was having an off-day, mainly because I was trying not to melt to my seat in the 90-degree heat with no breeze and no shade. I'm pretty sure I drank about five gallons of soda just to keep from dehydrating. But I did take a lot of photos that looked like this:

I feel like I've gotten off track here......

Oh yeah baseball. Young played well - very well. He seems much more solid this year. The outfield selection was Young, Cuddyer and Span. I have a feeling this is how we'll start the season. Crede hit a home run, which almost dragged me fully onto the Crede bandwagon. But, he still needs to prove himself to me because I've been burned by one too many overhyped home run hitters, and I still need some time to heal. I still have nightmares about Rondell White (and I know, Rondell was no Cre-D!, but I'm still waiting to see definitive, consistent proof of awesomeness in the regular season).

On Monday (or more likely Tuesday since I'll probably fall asleep in the car on the way home on Monday) - PfH's first game recap of 2009!!!!