Dear Matt Capps,

Hi! Welcome to the Minnesota Twins and to our blog, where we offer loving encouragement of the Twins and snarky disparagement of their opponents.

We don't know much about you. We know your name. We know that you used to play in Washington DC (which, fyi: does not get a vote in congress, so congrats on getting a meaningful vote again). And we know that you came to us in exchange for everybody's favorite superfluous catcher: Wilson Ramos, so we hope you are as good as he is.

We also know that you helped us beat the Seattle Mariners last night, for this we are grateful. The Mariners always seem to work a woeful mojo on us, using tearful poetry and over priced coffee to make us as depressed as your average Seattle resident, and then sneaking across the plate with the winning run. You did not allow this to happen last night. Thank you.

We wish you best of luck with the rest of your season, and if you would like cookies feel free to ask....they may not be good but they will be...something.

Sincerely,

The Peanuts from Heaven

Intelligent acquisitions

First, let's all say "Woot-Woot!" for the sweep in KC. We avoided blogging on the beat downs here just because while we do a lot of things well (chicken-mushroom quesadillas for example) we don't do a great job of gloating. Also it's just mean, and we are not mean...we are from heaven.

But now let's focus on the bigger fish in need of some frying namely: the trade deadline which is now a mere two days away. While the Twins always seem to be hunting for someone or something to complement the team for a stretch run rarely do we actually pick up the big gun.

And this, actually is okay by me. Sure I'd love to have a Cy Young winner like Roy Oswalt or a significant talent like Dan Haren, but it seems more and more like the major league baseball trade deadline is like a block long string of garage sales. You walk down the road and see something that's strange and amusing and would actually look pretty cool on your bookshelf...like, say, a ceramic giraffe doing the splits!

I mean...look at that! it would totally tie Target Field together! We must have it!! Except...a whole bunch of other people at the garage sale are convinced that the ceramic giraffe is perfect for them too, and all at once everybody starts yelling offering obscene prices for that ceramic giraffe. Someone says: 10 bucks, you say 20, a third person goes to 30 bucks plus their girlfriend!

While this is happening a bunch of other people gather round and tell you that you have to buy this ceramic giraffe--it's an absolute neccesity they cry...once you have that all your problems will be solved! Unfortunately the giraffe seems to be sneering at you, like it doesn't really want to go home with you no matter how much you want it. Finally this hot shot from New York comes in and offers 50 bucks, their girlfriend and their first born child and that's that the ceramic giraffe is theirs.

So you're bummed, because, well...if you had 50 bucks or weren't so fond of your girlfriend then the ceramic giraffe would be yours. But you walk down the road and see a ceramic crocodile pot! It's hilarious! You must have it!!

...but so do the other three guys who missed on the ceramic giraffe...

Ultimately, the trade deadline is a massive crap shoot...the kind of thing where you're almost guaranteed to overpay for whatever you buy and will be unlikely to notice it for very long afterwards. Take last year for example: sure Orlando Cabrera did a great job for the months he was in town...how many of us can really remember his stats though?

A great deadline deal is as rare as a Rembrandt in a garage sale. So don't hope for too much...and keep an eye on the waiver wire after the deadline. It's like the transfer window in futbol...you conduct your business in private and pay just enough to satisfy the team and the player you want--done and done!

That's how we got Carl Pavano from the Indians...and Danny from Valencia CF. (He made a pretty bad soccer player carrying a glove into the field.)

Feeling Guilty

This is Zack Grienke--or actually it's Zack Grienke's head photoshopped onto the body of a Thundercat for my own amusement.

I did this photoshop because 1) it amused me, 2) the Thundercats are the coolest alien/animal/action hero cartoon characters ever, 3) Zack Grienke's about the only Royal who is talented enough to merit association with the Thundercats.

Unfortunately for the Kansas Citizens, Zack Grienke's awesomeness, so apparent and awe inspiring last year have been in woefully short supply this year as you might be able to tell from the fact that the Twins made Mr. Grienke and all his little powder blue buddies run home crying last night. We hope that Greinke's excellent pitching will return soon...preferably when he has to play against the White Sox...and the Tigers...and really anyone who's not us.

Now, we could spend the rest of this blog talking about how awesome Mauer is, or opining on Delmon Young's .427 batting average this month, or pointing out that Danny Valencia may secretly be Batman, but that would be gloating. And the last time we gloated after a victory bad things happened--bad things called "losses to the Cleveland Indians". So we will keep shtum for our own good.

But, in addition to covering our own butts, we want to be nice to those teams who are a little unhappy right now--and there are a lot of them in the AL Central. The Indians, deprived of their King; the Royals, deprived of their ace; the Tigers deprived of their hits by Matt Garza; the White Sox...okay we don't want to be nice to the White Sox...but to everybody else: "we are sorry things are hard right now. But they will get better, you will be happier and no matter what, we still like you. Now how about a hug? What? You don't want to hug this blog? Okay...I can respect that...[awkward silence, cough]"

Anyway! Well done Twins, now you play nice with those poor boys in Kansas City.

Road Trip down the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

I know that a lot of people are saying that this little stretch of games is the easiest the Twins will have to face for a while. But I disagree...these are the games which try men's souls. We're playing teams with so many faded dreams that they should probably be playing heroines in Tennessee Williams' plays.

I've already talked about Cleveland. A team which was one win away from the World Series 3 years ago...2007! And now they've lost their two Cy Young winners and taken a shot to the gut from a home town boy who prefers bikinis to...uhh...whatever they have in Cleveland I guess. It's hard to beat up on a team that despondent...but we tried doing it before...and we're going to have to try and do it again in about a week.

Then there's Baltimore. A place where about 15 years ago they had a team as feared as the Yankees. A place where the beautiful ball park begat a resurgence of building (culminating in Target Field) an oodles of fans. But the vast seas of empty seats just looked woefully depressing--sure every one who came seemed to take home a souvenir foul ball/home run blast from Delmon Young...but that's small solace when your team plays like a three-day old crab cake.

Now we're off to Kansas City, where Stinky and I have been, where there's a long proud history of baseball and barbeque and blues and water hazards inside the stadium. The Royals haven't been competitive since the 1980's but they were tremendously competitive at that tme and really wrote the book for how to compete outside of the biggest metropoli in America. But now...the announcers sound bored, local fans are frequently outnumbered by tourists and the team ownership (WalMart) is reportedly interested in trading everybodyy...their Abe Lincoln "Vampire Hunter" closer, their Cy Young winning pitcher, Dah Jesus. EVERYBODY. (Always Low Prices: Always the Royals)

I guess part of what makes this whole road trip so sad is that, we all have to accept the fact that, as a cyclical business--there's every chance the Twins will be in a funk like this. Heck, we WERE in a funk like this from approximately 1993-2001...8 long years worth of trading anybody with a modicum of talent, 8 years of countless blue seats and Herb Carneal's voice echoing through the silence of the stadium, 8 years of wondering when our luck would turn.

Of course our luck has changed, and we're happy, and we genuinely do hope that some day soon there's a playoffs populated by Us and Baltimore and Kansas City and Pittsburgh and Washington and Seattle and all the little scrappy guys out there in the world. But until that happy day we encourage all the struggling teams out there to hitch their wagon to us--your benevolent mascot for small-market fortitude. (And please don't send us back to the purgatory of loserdom: please oh please oh PLEASE?!?!?)

So that's why this road trip is hard...it's a glimpse into the sad side of baseball...a side that every team confronts at some point (even the Yankees, hard as that is to believe). Now is a time to hope for the best, prepare for the worst and count our blessings. Come home soon Twins...and make the pain stop.

Scruffy

P.s. I realize that this whole blog was a bit of a debbie downer so in order to make up for that please note the fancy shmancy new blog design!! (We've been fiddling with this for a little while, and may make further changes once the blogger with actual taste and design acumen (Stinky) has more free time)

Rhyme and Reason

First, great win last night. Cuddy, Delmon and Senor 'Stache...all we need. Well, that and my father giggling over his witticism "Wiggington WIGGED OUT!"

As frequent readers (all three of you) will know, we here at Peanuts From Heaven love baseball history including this little rhyme about my father's favorite team as a boy (the Milwaukee Braves) and their pitching woes

Spahn, Sain and Pray for Rain

It is in that spirit therefore that we introduce our very own, globalized Twins rhyme to reflect our own pitching woes.

Pavano, Liriano and hope for a hurricano

Repeat that as often as you like, it's a helpful little mantra.

A Brief Fairy Tale

Once upon a time there was a kingdom called the Land of Cleve. This kingdom was ruled by a King known as The Bron. The king had a loyal tribe led by Captain Cheeseburger and Sir Cliffly as well as a horde of Dogs known as the "Browns" even though they were mostly Orange.

Anyway, the Land of Cleve felt pretty good about itself and The Bron was kind hearted and merciful. But slowly, the land began to fall on hard times. First the dogs were found to be toothless, then the Captain was bitten by a Yankpire and Sir Cliffly became a wandering gypsy. Still The Bron was there and the people of the Land of Cleve loved him deeply.

Then one day, some other Kings called up The Bron and said: "hey you wanna come live in our kingdom instead", and The Bron said: "yes. Yes I do." So he gave up the throne of the Land of Cleve and left never to return.

The people of Cleve were heartbroken and furious and so they sent forth their tribe to pillage all the neighboring kingdoms, beginning with The Troit and moving on to the Territory known as Twinnesota.

Baffled as to why they were being attacked the Twinnesotans lost many times to the tribe of Cleve and then sent forth Sir Francisco to inquire: "Umm...why are you guys attacking us?"

Between sobs the armies of Cleve announced: "Shut up! You don't know our pain! YOU MUST DIE!"

"Ummm...is this about your King just running away from your kingdom"

"NO!" they shouted Sir Francisco stared with caring eyes and suddenly the Tribe of Cleve sniffled and then...began to bawl "YEEEEESSSSSS!!!! Why. Did. He. Leave. US?!?!?!? Are we not cool? We'll be cool! We'll all drive Hummers or Hybrids or Hippos or whatever is in right now....just please...tell our king to come home!!"

The tribe flung themselves in to Sir Francisco's arms and as he held them he explained, "listen closely child. Kings are despotic rulers...having just one will lead to heartbreak. Believe me, the Territory of Twinnesota used to have King Randy, and then King Kevin, and then King Johan, but they all left eventually...sure we could crown a King Joe or a King Justin...but that could lead to heart break too...so instead we're all equals...you should try it...equality is fun!"

"Can we be equals?" the Tribe sniffed.

"Sure we can...but first why don't you go back and destroy The Troit and the Kingdom of the Pale Hosers some more, that'll make you feel better."

The Tribe dried it's eyes and said " 'Kay." And thus all was made well.

Sorry for your pain Land of Cleve...it gets better...trust us.

A definition:

Comeuppance (n): 1) a richly deserved punishment; 2) getting your butt handed to you by the Cleveland Indians after you, and everyone you know wouldn't stop crowing about how awesome your last victory was.

That's all we'll say about that.

An EPIC DUCKING WIN over Toolishness

Just savor that image a little while longer. Hugs...lots of hugs...and Jim Thome, ol' man Jim Thome looking like he's just found a pony wrapped up under a christmas tree made of ice cream. Jim Thome looks like he's oh so happy to beat the White Sox, because we all are!

We won. We won against the White Sox. We won after being down 3 runs in the 9th inning. We won after losing the first game of this series which knocked us to 4.5 games out of first. We won against perhaps the sketchiest looking pitcher in the entire American League.

(Seriously, I'm sure Freddy Garcia's a nice guy, but seriously? Can you tell which one of the guys pictured on either side of this paragraph is a Jersey Shore cast member, and which is the afore mentioned White Sox pitcher?)

Another beautiful moment in this victory was the fact that the biggest hits in the 9th came from Cuddy and Delmon, our dearly beloved Masters of Supraction (TM). It was almost as though they were hitting Jersey Shore style toolishness in the face (assuming that an abstract concept have a metaphorical face).

Honestly, I can easily imagine this trash talk conversation:

Cuddy, Delmon or any Twins Hitter really: "Forsooth, I shall smite thy pitch Sir Tool."

Bobby Jenks, Freddy Garcia, any White Sox Pitcher: "You better not hope I don't find out your name, bro!!!!!!!"

Twins Hitter: "My name is on the back of my jersey good sir...now please throw a pitch."

[Pitch is thrown, hit is made, yelling continues]

White Sox Pitcher: "GET THE F*#^ OUT OF HERE BRO, THAT'S ONE SHOT KID!"

Twins Hitter: "Aye, verily, 'tis only one shot...but it has foiled your plans...fare thee well and might I add: Nyeah-nyeahnyeah-NYEAH!!!"

In short victory is awesome, so let's revel in that one more time:

Sigh...awesome...SO awesome

(P.s. If you haven't yet, vote for the Twins Pepsi Refresh Project, or any Pepsi Refresh Project really...well done MLB, well done)

Impressive

First off, kudos to the Twins for winning a game in under 2 hours, thereby avoiding the complications of a "Tornado Delay"--ahhh, outdoor baseball...what fun.

Second off, kudos to Carl Pavano for being cool enough in his own skin to sport that ridiculous mustache. I say this as a long time proponent/possessor of facial hair, I've even included a shout out to mustaches in my epic unpublished novel (cue the snickering):

I have long felt that any man who had a mustache was worth knowing. Anyone who, of his own free will, puts something so preposterous on his upper lip, clearly has dismissed the

importance of public approval. Once you do that, you are ready to take on truly epic challenges.

So, again kudos to you Carl and I will quote back up catcher Drew Butera when I say: "what better way to show love than a little mustache hug" Here now, my mustache hug for Carl Pavano (WARNING: THE PICTURE BELOW IS NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AGES, INDIVIDUALS WITH HEART CONDITIONS OR THE LACTOSE INTOLERANT. OBSERVE AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Now let's return to sanity and root root root for the home team.

Nail Bitin'

So Stinky and I actually got to *watch* the baseball game last night (it was a big moment for two people who have forgone cable in the name of education...or more accurately two people who can't afford both cable tv and eating on a student's income).

A couple of thoughts:

1) Delmon is a talented athlete, which is nice to see after so many years of little mincing feet, the big fella can lope around there pretty well.

2) My Smoke Monster sound effects aren't so much ominous as they are random and chaotic..not unlike the smoke monster himself!

3) Life is a whole lot easier for baseball fans when your pitching isn't awful. Witness: Innings 1-8, everything was fine! Frankie pitched very very well, then Matty G. got him out of a jam. But when our tattooed closer turned into Johnny the Grauch (all covered with garbage and stinking up the joint) we were forced to turn to our old pal, Jesse Crain. (See picture below)

Jesse's a nice dude, he's friendly and amenable and certainly better than 98.9% of the world at playing baseball...but sadly he's been struggling a lot lately with the 1.1% he actually plays against. So much as we like him, seeing him in the bull pen was cause for a whole lot of: "No, no! Please oh please oh please NO!"

And yet he entered and what's more he conquered! He did so well in fact that we must revive our old nickname for Jesse: "Ze UBER MENSCH!"--because he's not just a nice guy, he's an UBER nice guy! And also, with the bald head and goatee we can see him going toe-to-toe with Niezche pretty easily.

So in honor of Ze Ubermensch, raise your steins Twins Territory and contemplate the infathomable nothingness of the Black Uniforms worn by the White Sox...it may perhaps seem contradictory to wear black when the word "white" is in your name, but perhaps the perplexing paradigm of binary forces (day-night, black-white, good-Chicago) which necessitates the existence of said Pale Hosers in order to fully appreciate the beauty of Twins baseball.

Or maybe baseball's just awesome. Yeah...let's go with that.

It could have been worse...

It also could have been better.

Listening to the game last night, Stinky and I only needed about half-an-inning to think: "This isn't good", and only another half-inning to go: "Yup! Definitely not good". What with everybody still on a mental vacation we were fully prepared for doom, unavoidable DOOM!

Then things got better, a rally, a two out rally no less! Single after single after single, with even smokey chugging around third to score, and a Joe Mauer double to put the haters in their place.

Of course...then...sigh...

So perhaps we should be glad that we lost by only one run rather than four + as we were expecting in the early going. We have long been proponents of lowered expectations, they are much easier to surpass than lofty ones, not everyone can be valedictorian after all, but lots of people can graduate without over dosing on paste!

So tonight we encourage the Minnesota Twins to avoid eating paste...we know it's delicious, but we just bet that Ozzie Guillen has filled it with microbes which diminish hand-eye coordination. Keep your eye on the prize Twins...not the paste.

Gearing up for the second half

First thing's first, congrats to the NL. You won, you were the underdog and we always love the underdog. Good on ya!

Now, before the second half of the season begins I wanted to take time to pay homage to two of my other passions in life--and how they relate to baseball: beautiful beautiful baseball.

Let's start with soccer/futbol/calico/that-thing-that-American's-pay-attention-to-every-four-years. More and more, futbol is becoming a game that we not merely humor, but tolerate, meaning that when we all turn 60 we'll actually watch matches with something approaching appreciation! To hasten that golden day/decline of our society let's please remember that while futbol is about artistry, creativity and passion it's also about finding some way to overcome grievous bodily harm in approximately 9 seconds.

As many have noted with agitation, in futbol, players tend to fall to earth like defunct Soviet satellites at the slightest hint of a nudge. After writhing about in utter agony for about 1 minute the player leaps to their feet and return to acts of athleticism unimaginable to 98% of the human species. In the rare case that such writhing goes longer than 1 minute, a magic spray is produced which restores the player to complete health and merriment.

Some people think this makes futbol frustrating--deceitful even. But I think it's just using medical technologies common in every other country of the world to their own benefit. Ergo, rather than sending Twins players on rehab assignments or asking them to see doctors we suggest that the whole team just roll around on the outfield grass for 10 minutes. Meanwhile we can use the magic spray on Justin's head, our pitcher's egos and all of JJ Hardy's body.

Speaking of JJ--apparently a lot of our readers really like JJ. Of course, they don't exactly like him in a way that is family friendly, so we won't endeavor to help their quest. But for those of you who have stumbled onto us in other ways, we'd like to help you in your quest for knowledge. So using Google analytics I've identified some of the most popular searches and will hereby try to answer them:

1) Orlando Hudson Lifetime Movie Network

--You know, we had not thought of this before but we definitely convinced that O-Dog can be Kevin Slowey's very talkative wing man in Slo-Slo's search for true love. As a result, in the Lifetime Movie about falling in love with Slo-dog (starring Emile deRavin as the lucky lady, and a young Alan Ruck as Slowey) Orlando will star as himself, write the script and serve as Best Boy for the production

2) Bagel Cheddarwurst Orlando

-- This one makes me sad in my soul (this is Kristina). If you have never heard of Bagel Cheddarwurst... your life is probably all the more awesome for never having smelled its synthetic cheesy death-odor or tasted its plasticky vomit-inducing slime. Bagel Cheddarwurst was a regular fixture in my grade school cafeteria, and it never failed to turn an otherwise fine day into the worst day EVER. So if Bagel Cheddarwurst has never crossed your path, your life is probably awesome, full of sunshiny rainbows and unicorns, whereas my encounters with this foul substance have left me emotionally stunted and unable to accept love into my heart. Clearly, someone is out to sabotage Orlando with the worst culinary experience ever... so buddy, run like hell. Whatever inspired this search it can't be good.

3) Grandpappy dressed as a teddy bear

--Seriously? If this really matters to you you might want to just ask your grandfather...or see a counsellor.

4) Ron Gardenhire Cherry Concentrate

-- When Ron Gardenhire concentrates on cherries, the fruit explodes into delicious cherry flavored ambrosia. However, resist the temptation to drink such a concoction as doing so will cause you to see the world like a big game of PAC-MAN.

5) What are the rope necklaces that Nick Swisher wears called?

--EVIL

Congratulations and moment of silence

I realize that today is now double-posted, but a couple of things have happened that I thought I should mention:

1) Congratulations to former Twin Shrek I mean David Ortiz on winning the homerun derby! He's not my Canadian Hot-Pants fiance but he's close enough (p.s. now that I have an actual fiance, maybe I should stop refering to Justin Morneau as my betrothed...? Maybe...?)

2) I'm sure if you've read the news recently, you heard that George Steinbrenner, owner of the New York Yankees, passed away this morning from a massive heart attack. Given that most of my knowledge of Steinbrenner comes from two sources - the book "The Devil Wears Pinstripes" and the ESPN miniseries "Summer of '79" - I'm not exactly the best source for actual facts or unbiased opinions, but I thought I should say a little something.

For as much as we've made fun of the man here at PFH, there's no denying that he has been one of the most influential club owners of all time. Whether you loved him or hated him, you were sure to have an opinion. Steinbrenner oversaw the launch of the all-Yankees TV network (whether you like it or not, a game-changing innovation in revenue streams for ball clubs), hired and then fired his own manager umpteen billion times and won approximately 85 world series titles. OK, most of these are exaggerations, but the fact remains - Steinbrenner was a giant in baseball, and now he is gone.

RIP, George Steinbrenner. Your empire lives on.

More than a feeling:

So it’s the half way mark of the baseball season and we here at Peanuts from Heaven are full of...oh, what’s the word....cautious optimism? optimistic caution? gas? Is it gas? It’s probably gas...

Oh no, wait I recognize this feeling. It’s the slow realization that we’re in for (yet another) barn burner of a second half. Once again the teams in Detroit Rock City and Deep Dish Pizza-ville stubbornly refuse to let us win...no matter how many cookies we send to their residents, or pictures of sad puppies we post to make them feel guilty.

This isn’t a bad thing I suppose, exciting baseball beats boring baseball any day of the weak. The only problem is that it really seemed like we might just cruise through the season this year, what with that whole kick-ass start to the season, and the actual victories over the Yankees...we might have been looking too far ahead, we admit it, but well, you’ve got to admit, it would have been nice to just have an easy year for once.

Instead we’re back where we’ve so often been, nipping at the heels of a couple other teams hoping that the breaks go our way in the second half. Now sure, there are statistics to support us. Odds are Joe will come back into form, and the pitching will regain its stuff, and Bill Smith will pick up one solid piece to help lead the charge towards October. And we could trot out all kinds of stats, like the fact that we’ve faced more teams over .500 than the Tigers or White Sox...and will, therefore, have a slightly easier road ahead.

But instead of, you know, rational logic, let’s do what we peanuts do best: Daydream!

In our magical imaginary 2nd half, Delmon Young will continue to confirm my man-crush and Nick Blackburn will once again use baked goods to combat the forces of evil and Gardy will once--at least once--push a merry little wheelbarrow out to collect Jesse Crain before Ze Ubermensch does too much damage to our leads. Also, the Tigers will trade Austin Jackson to the Red Wings (fast on grass, faster on ice!) and Ozzie Guillen’s new reality show will get a surprise twist when Flavor Flav becomes the team’s new GM. These distractions will beget our newest October fantasy: two whole wins against the Yankees!

Dare to dream little legumes, dare to dream.

Smelly

Two warnings

1--To the Detroit Tigers, please stop ruining our genius theory about how Scruffy is capable of changing the Twins fortunes.

2--To the Onion. We realize you love the White Sox and the Brewers...but c'mon...admit it...your mockery is based on jealousy.

PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!!

Oh Twins, my Twins...I'm so so so so soooooooo sorry

I have finally landed back in the United States and I turn on my computer to actually browse the internet leisurely for the first time in 36 days and what do I see...our once mighty lead and sterling record have....oh, what's the word...Exploded-into-a-bajillion-pieces! That's one word isn't it?

Now I'm sure that those of you who have actually, you know, watched the games have your own theories as to why this is, from what I can glean the hitting has been feeble and the pitching has been suspect and while I'm sure that playing the game bears a large effect on how many games you win, I'm also sure that the largest effect on the Twins performance is me.

Witness: 2007 (when I was in India)--no playoffs

2008 (when I returned from India)--surge into a tie for 1st place

2009 (here all year long)--Win the division

2010 (When I was gone for all of June)--Great...until the month of June.

I'm not saying I'm the greatest human being EVER...just the most important. But clearly our recent "June Swoon" is directly attributable to my being in west Africa throughout the month.

This is no one's fault but my own. I take full responsibility.

I beg of the Twins organization to return to their winning ways just as I have returned to the country. Pitchers can once again pound the zone. Hitters can go back to crushing the enemy. Gardy can continue being adorable when he's angry. As penance for my transgression I will say 20 "Hail Mauers" and eat as much crow as can be concealed in old dome dog wrappers. I promise, it won't every happen again, please Twins? Forgive me?

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnd we're back!!

Sorry everyone! Things have been a little hectic here at PFH - first we were traveling in India, and then pretty much as soon as we got back Scruffy took off for Ghana for 5 weeks, and I started my summer internship and also became consumed by wedding-related planning activities.

I'm a little out of practice at this whole 'writing' think... it's like when I'm out of town for 2 weeks and don't practice Yoga and then when I get back I realize my hamstrings are probably half the length they used to be, only it's my level of creativity and not my ability to contort my body into strange positions. See even my metaphors are weird now.

I'll just start with a simple exercise.

THE TOP THREE THINGS THAT TERRIFIED ME ABOUT LAST NIGHTS GAME

1)David Price. I've never seen him play before, but the man is a pitching ninja. His 90-gajillion mph fastball is so stealthy you don't even see it until it's gone past you, and when I saw how totally ineffective we were against him, I sort of got bad feelings about the whole game.

2)Gardy putting in Ze Ubermensch, Jesse Crain, in the 8th. I love Jesse Crain...he is a nice guy (see Twins Fest 2009), but you would think that Gardy, a man who seems to have his head on his shoulders, would realize that 9 times out of 10, when you put Crain in, really bad things happen. I'm pretty sure there's some sort of statistical analysis linking Jesse Crain's pitching with sad puppies but I'll have to look into it further to be sure. And even though the recap made it look like he mowed them down, in person it was much more of a nail-biter.

3)The John Rauch intro video. At first I just when 'what?'...and then I was like "oh wait... this is for real??!" and then I started laughing because what else can you do when someone's freaky neck tattoo is being dramatically lit on a giant screen while Metallica plays in the background? I still can't decide whether I think it's totally awesome or the strangest thing I've ever seen, but mostly I'm leaning towards totally awesome. The best part was when he started out a little shaky and my mom goes "...maybe they should play that video again. he's cute!" MOM??!????? WHAT?????????????

If you haven't seen this particular bit of awesomeness you can watch it here, but it really doesn't do justice to seeing it on the awesome scoreboard. Did I mention the scoreboard is awesome? Let's do a little comparison, just for fun...

vs.

...and just as Target Field wins, so did the Twins also win, 2-1 over the Rays and it was a great night at Target Field! We are now 1-1 in the series...I'll make every effort to watch the game this afternoon and report back, and be a decent blogger once again.

- Stinky