Then came Arizona. [Cue the heavy sigh]
For the last two nights I have turned away from games when we have lead and when I have a party to go to or heavy eyelids. I genuinely feel happy with the team's performance at these moments, not ecstatic or rapturous, but happy. It's nice to see a few long balls. It's comforting to feel like the veterans are doing everything possible to regain their form. It seems that no matter how bad the season has been a dedicated few will stubbornly fight to salvage it. And I dream that good days are just over the horizon.
Perhaps that's over confidence, perhaps it's the assumption that these are the Diamondbacks of old, perhaps it's just the desperate hope that things are going to get better. Whatever the case, when I look at the score again in the morning my sweet dreams are dashed and the bitter reality of another defeat sets in.
Bitter though the morning box score check is, I can't blame on any player, not the losing pitcher, not the error-prone defender, not the golden sombrero hitter. You win as a team, you lose as a team, and right now--inexplicable as it is given the Twins talent and recent history--we are certainly losing as a team. It's tough to swallow my morning yogurt, granola, bacon or tea with that taste in my mouth...but a few hours later we look forward to the next game and hope that the day will end with sweeter dreams ahead. That might seem crazy, but if you're a baseball fan you're used to believing in crazy things.
So, after whatever that was last night in Arizona. We offer this musical suggestion:
(You could disobey the request of these adorable children...but we wouldn't recommend it.)