Observations whilst in Kauffman Stadium

So...we lost -- and our defense was so bad it almost made my eyeballs fall out of my head -- but still, we went 2-3 in games we saw, and one more win will give us a winning road trip--it won't happen because our theory of low expectations forces us to imagine situations where in the aroma of steaks and the harmonies of blues lures the Twins into a house made of ribs where they are eaten by a witch.

Until such a terrible event occurs: we thought we would share these thoughts in our last stop of this Road Trip:

1) Kauffman stadium is pretty--and pretty evil. Water fountains, a mini golf course, big sweeping stands that provide plenty of shade--all very nice. Complete failure to provide water of any kind to anyone without payment--not cool Kansas City, not cool. We also feel that this might account for our abysmal defense last night. When all our guys tried to take their special smarty pants pills, they had to take them with powerade not regular water--which rendered science and magic irrelevant and turned it all into stupid pills. (Hence the bobbling and the errors)
2) The Ball park is no place for grammar: we say this to the dude who yelled up at us: "TELL THOSE CHICKS NEXT TO YOU "PROVE" IS SPELLED WITH ONE "O" NOT TWO!!!!"--yeah, cause what we really want to do when we finally find friendly people around us is go all english teacher nerd on them
3) Joakim Soria looks like Abraham Lincoln--if Abraham Lincoln played for a mid-nineties metal band
4) Barbecue is good--no surprise there
5) "Lets Go Mauer" chants are ineffective in other ball parks--Though the chairman's magnanimous generosity may also account for the occasional double play ball of charity.
6) When it comes to manager ranting--Gardy is clearly a cut above. In our little den of Twins fans everyone stood up to cheer the man, providing commentary for our Kansas Citizen Brethren: first comes the hand gestures, then the arm gestures, then the increased promiximity to the ump, then the hat comes off, then the magic word, and he's gone. Trey Hillman's style: stand and deliver--no movement, no feeling, no pizazz.

7) Big Dudes love Cuddy. It was about 11:30 PM in downtown Kansas City. We had just parked our car and were ready to go get a drink (or several) in which to drown our sorrows when a huge, massive dude approached us from out of the shadows. "Hey," said the huge dude. "My wife just had a baby six weeks ago and man, I'm out on the highway and we just ran out of gas just over there," (points vaguely to a spot "over there") "and you know, the baby and anything you can do to help..." Stinky, being a woman and being slightly paranoid, was inclined to listen to her brain, which screamed "Run away! Huge dude in a dark parking lot!!" Scruffy, being slightly more calm, pulled out a 20 and gave it to the dude, who then told us a) how awesome we were and b) how much he loved Michael Cuddyer. Not Mauer, not Crede... Michael Cuddyer. So, did he really have a 6 month old baby? Was he really out of gas on the highway? We shall never know. But we do know that big dudes everwhere love Cuddy.

Overall, this was an awesome and successful trip. Peanuts from Heaven win percentage was above .500. Fans were (realitvely) friendly (except in Milwaukee). We were in the shade most of the time. Food was delicious. Sure, there was the occasional setback - a funky smelling hotel room, a melted bag of gummy worms, getting slightly lost in downtown KC - but no ammount of setbacks can ruin baseball, nor can it ruin the fun of burying your co-blogger in the sand and decorating them like Captain Hammer from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. These are the truly great moments in life.

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