Cliff Notes for the 2015 Twins: Chapter 4

The first days of school are right around the corner for many tykes in Twins Territory, so to help you with that summer reading you neglected, here's some more notes about that local best-seller: The Minnesota Twins

Chapter 4: Post-All-Star Break to End of August

Plot Summary:

While the doldrums in Chapter 3 appeared foreboding, the climactic triumph of Glen Perkins and Brian Dozier's march to the All-Star Game (and accompanying 6-1 stretch) offered a great deal of hope to Twins fans. As I wrote then 

"As Perkins and Dozier rise as protagonists, it will be interesting to see what obstacles and conflicts are thrown in their way to create dramatic tension for the rest of the season."

In many ways, those obstacles and conflicts are part of Chapter 4's great unraveling....

OOH BOY!
It's worth 5 cents!

On a Summer Vacation style trip to Oakland and Los Angeles, Glen Perkins' save streak came to an abrupt end.  Home series against the Yankees and Mariners didn't help matters and a swift sweep at the hands of the Blue Jays at the start of August left many people questioning whether or not the whole season was doomed.

It didn't help that the Twins' attempts to bolster their squad were...underwhelming, as very few kids clutch their "Kevin Jepsen" or "Neal Cotts" trading cards. Sure enough many people targeted the bullpen as a disappointment, and the starters didn't help matters by following the struggles in Toronto by spending a weekend in Cleveland where no starter got through 4 innings. 

Meanwhile, in the line-up, Dozier's daunting numbers have slipped, dropping forty points in On-Base Percentage, and one-hundred points in Slugging Percentage, right when (as the pitching shows) his bat would be quite valuable. An eleven run outburst against the Rangers helped them in the Wild Card, but by the time the Twins hit New York for another series agains the Yankees the rival Royals' division lead had stretched to 12 games. After (yet another) sweep in the Bronx, that lead was 14, and even the wild card seemed out of reach. Particularly when the two All-Stars were so far from the heroes they seemed to be just months before.

Or so it would have been, if another hero had not emerged over Chapter 4. Twins' fans hearts have begun to pitter-pat in a way they haven't since the days of "Baby Jesus", fittingly thanks to an Angel...or rather, an Ángel. Miguel Ángel Sanó. The burgeoning power and satisfying patience offset a strike-out happy debut, and once joined with his fellow rookie sensation Byron Buxton, Sano helped carry the Twins to a staggering 8-2 run to close out the month, with all the wins coming against fellow playoff contenders in Baltimore, Tampa Bay and Houston.

Do it again Miguel!

So despite the doom and gloom that pervades chapter four, again the authors' of the Twins season offer reasons to hope entering the next thrilling chapter.

Main Character Development:

We've mentioned the falls of both Perkins and Dozier and the plot summary referenced the rise of Sanó, but baseball seasons' don't just develop the obvious protagonists, they develop everyone.

Consider Eduardo Escobar: this was a player who seemed for all the world to be an tossed-in trading chip on an insignificant deal during the middle of a lost year. A player so insignificant, that our review of the trade focused more on a poem about the departing Francisco Liriano than any reflection on who was coming over. Three years later, while the man he was traded for has been solid on the mound, Escobar has become something of a cult figure in Twins Territory, occupying a space once reserved for Nick Punto or Gene Larkin. He has out-hit Pedro Florimon, out-fielded Danny Santana, and out-everythinged potential trade bait to become the starting short stop on a play-off contender. That's a heck of a return for three months of poor performing Francisco Liriano.

Pictured: The Bachelor in Paradise
equivalent of Terry Ryan holding
Ervin Santana.

If you want a less optimistic development consider Ervin Santana: At the end of Chapter 3, Santana twirled a fine game against the division leading Royals, with eight strikeouts in eight innings, leaving the K deprived Twins fans eager to #SmellBaseball (and in many cases, learn what hashtags really meant). He seemed to be a bright spot on the dispiriting West Coast road trip and then spent a six game stretch allowing an average of 5 runs per start and winning exactly zero of those games. High hopes were dashed, and the cheers turned to questions about whether we had been bamboozled by steroid inflated numbers, just like Joe was hoodwinked by Samantha's 200 texts on Bachelor in Paradise (don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about). Perhaps his 10 Strikeout performance will redeem him...or perhaps he's a pineapple.

Key Quote/Stat Explained

+tOPS in High Leverage At Bats

+tOPS is a way to tell if a player is performing better or worse than they normally do. 100 is average, so any thing above that is good for a hitter (and bad for a pitcher), anything below 100 is bad for a hitter (and, obviously, good for a pitcher).

Leverage is a means of measuring how any individual at bat can affect the outcome of the game. If a pitcher can get an out in a high leverage situation (like, say, the bases loaded with no outs and a one run lead) that's a little more important than a low leverage situation (like, say, facing the number nine-hitter with two out, nobody on, and a ten-run lead).

When the going gets tough...

Right at the end of Chapter 3 the Twins turned Trevor May into a relief pitcher, and while it hasn't been as narratively satisfying as some other characters' arcs, it is instructive in this situation. After all, May has pitched a lot this season, in all kinds of situations as both a starter and a reliever. In low leverage situations, he's performed like he usually does (tOPS = 104). In medium (or average) leverage situations he's performed like he usually does (tOPS = 108). In high leverage situations he has been significantly better (tOPS = 74).

Those numbers are all still about average by league standards, but it suggests that Trevor May can be quite good right when the Twins need him to be (no matter which role he's pitching in).

Literary Terms to Impress English Majors:

If the 2015 Twins are a mystery to you, as they are to most fans, then you're ready to find out exactly what this year has been a Red Herring and what isn't. 

The 2015 Twins plot points

Many hard core mystery fans know to expect red herrings, or misleading clues in the course of their story, say when a suspect is called "a bad, bad man" by a trustworthy source right when the detectives are looking for a "bad, bad man". Naive readers may assume, the "bad, bad man" is the villain, trained readers know that there's something else a foot.

So the best writers (or those who like messing with readers the most) enjoy piling red herring on top of red herring until you have a veritable smorgasbord of deceptive head fakes, winks, nods and suggestions leaving everyone totally bewildered. So, if you're trying to figure out your team's identity and you're perpetually bombarded by mediocrity, then brilliance, then ineptitude, you know you've got a Red Herring, you just don't know which one. The same goes for players: is Glen Perkins the shut down closer of your dreams, or an injured work horse? Is Brian Dozier an MVP candidate, or a great head of hair and a winning smile? Is Ervin Santana a disaster or a diamond? Is Neal Cotts another Bargain Bin retread, or just what the doctor ordered?

The climactic chapter of the Twins' season is yet to come, all will be revealed, and all the herrings will be eaten.

Welp....

That loss was extremely frustrating to say the least. As Gardy said in the post-game last night, an unfortunate inability to hold onto a 3 run lead overshadowed some great performances by a number of players and, especially, an amazing and heroic return to the lineup by Jim Thome. It's really hard for me to continue paying attention to the game when it becomes so depressing and stressful, so my mind starts to wander to thoughts of unicorns and butterflies, or occasionally Harry Potter.

Which leads me to this point - has anyone else noticed the striking similarities between the Twins bullpen, and Dementors? If not, I will list below the resemblances below:
- They suck all the fun and joy out of life.
- They make you feel cold and dead inside.
- They ruin everything.
- They often cause the loss of sports matches, such as Quidditch, or Baseball.

So this leads us to the obvious question - who is Voldemort? My first thought was Trevor Plouffe, mostly because I kind of hate him right now and wish he would go away so we could bring in another infielder who is actually capable of not screwing something up in every single game. But then, I remembered the second purpose of this blog (besides Twins silliness) - making fun of the Yankees. So then I decided that Voldemort is probably Derek Jeter, because really don't we always need an excuse to blame something on Derek Jeter?

"But wait," you say. "Isn't Derek Jeter already a vampire?"
Why yes. Yes he is.
Does Voldemort also drink Unicorn blood, making him also kind of a vampire?
Yes.
Is Drew Butera, in fact, a unicorn?
Yes.
Does that last fact have anything to do with baseball or anything else?
Not really.
I rest my case.

Now, I will go buy a bottle of scotch to drink away the frustration.

World Series Game 2: Congratulations are in order

Congrats to Matt Cain and all the Giants fans who have found clever word plays to be made of that name ("Cain is Able!" "You Cain't Touch This!" "Beware the CandyCain forest and go home to your Gumdrop Mountains!"--okay that last one wasn't really there...but I'm not as smart as San Fransiscans.)

Congrats also to CJ Wilson, the Peanuts From Heaven favorite non-Minnesota pitching nerd. You pitched well...you deserve better than an L in the history books and we hope you get another shot at the big W.

And congrats to Joe Buck and Tim McCarver who proved once and for all that they could count: "That's the fifth straight ball.....six balls in a row....seven consecutive balls...and that's eight straight consecutive balls in a row!...NINE! etc." This of course took place during the disastrous eighth inning when, with two outs, the Texas bullpen became the gang that couldn't throw straight.

I wondered: what was the cause of this debacle? Could it be a release point problem? Over worked arms from last night? Changes in the strike zone throughout the game? Honestly, I have no idea because instead I was treated to Buck and McCarver impersonating The Count on Sesame Street. Thank god they didn't talk about batting averages ("Josh Hamilton is hitting: 1...2..etc, etc....345....346 with runners in scoring position!! bah-ah-ahhhhhhh!!!")

Here's hoping we have some thrilling games ahead (and that we don't have to say goodbye to baseball in a scant 4 games)

Sadness

That shouldn't have happened--but it did, and we'll do everything we can to make up for it in the future, but for now, let us never speak of this again.

Supraction's New Side Kick

We here at Peanuts from Heaven have a new best buddy in the Twins Clubhouse. He became our buddy during the July 4th game, but then vanished from view...until last night...

You all know the story--but here are the basics--we needed to win...we always need to win...not because it's a complex or anything, but just because the stinking Tigers don't ever seem to lose. We need to stay close and capitalize on their mistakes--which basically means never making mistakes our selves.

To this end we employ two men who manage to appear unthreatening at first, but then explode in furious blazes of bad-assitude when you least expect it--we call this art: Supraction. Joe Mauer, Justin Morneau, Joe Nathan--all-stars all, but they are not the aforementioned badasses. They've come to be respected, revered, feared. Michael Cuddyer and Delmon Young on the other hand....nope...no fear.

Admittedly, Delmon is better at the non-threatening thing than the bad-assitude thing, but he can do it when he needs to, but Cuddy, ohhh Cuddy, with dimples that deep busting a cap in people's asses does not seem likely--and yet, he does it with the glove and he does it with the bat.

Last night he did it with both...twice. Then came our problem--the fine and subtle art of this thing we call Supraction is lost on our pitchers--they just can't manage to deal with it, and in that spirit Jose Mijares and Matt Guerrier lost our lead. But then, our favorite buddy was back.

Little Known Fact: Both Stinky and I are Aquarians born in 1983--with makes us not only Aquarians but Boars in the Chinese zodiac calendar. Even less known fact: Jose Morales was born a scant four days after stinky, making him another Aquarian Boar--or--as we prefer to be called: "AQUA PIGS!!!"

It's good to have our very own Aqua Pig back in the dugout--because nothings more suprising, or distracting as a amphibian swine. Especially when that amphibian swine is capable of late inning-pinch hit heroics.

Welcome home Jose Morales--we missed you.

Good news/Bad news

Good news: we're playing better

Bad news: Detroit's still playing pretty good

Good news: Detroit lost today!

Bad news: So did we

Good news: Bill Smith seems to have found his groove-thang

Bad News: Actually...that's just good news...

Bill Smith, lonely man about town with a dejected glint in his eye and a massive inferiority of payroll complex has suddenly decided to wheel and deal his way into our hearts by picking up two new relievers who managed to help keep the Rangers off the board tonight (until Pretty Princess Jose Mijares, gave up the homer to Rodriguez--but we weren't scoring anyway so...meh)

In one day he picked up TWO whole players! Ron Mayhay and John Rauch for a combined cost of somebody who will likely NOT be in the major leagues and Ron Coomer's donut money. This is good...more relief is good...more pitchers to cover the remaining five innings that our starters fail to throw is very very very good.

Of course, the phrase: "the opponents don't have a chance know because here comes Ron Mayhay/John Rauch" has never been uttered...but hopefully we will be the first.

Welcome fellows...now please set about winning us a game.

Wha' Happened???

Guys... WHAT HAPPENED??? We had a plan! It was called "The rest of our schedule is really easy so we should just kick the crap out of everyone." So why with all the sucking? Sucking was not part of the agreement, here.

The Angels I could understand. I mean, they're good. But Cleaveland?

YOU ARE NOT FOLLOWING THE PLAN, TWINS. YOU ARE TO PLEASE CEASE AND DESIST THIS BEHAVIOR IMMEDIATELY AND STOP LOSING. I AM NOT SCREWING AROUND HERE.

It's time to put a little fear into your hearts, and if Gardy can't do it... Merlin definitely can.


Let that be a lesson to you all.

FINALLY - a win...

Stupid baseball - raising my hopes and then beating them to a pulp again.
I'd like to raise what I feel are some important questions:
1) Why does our pitching suck?
2) Why did we allow the Angels to score 35 billion runs?
3) Are Questions 1 and 2 in fact the same question?

I think one thing was missing in the equation of our series against the Angels - Torii Hunter. I think he helps us win, no matter what team he's playing for. Last year, he missed a catch in a very un-Torii-like way, and I swear...SWEAR TO GOD... I saw him wink.

...OK, that may have not actually happened. I might have made it up.

Point being, this weekend sucked.

Moving on, last night did not suck. Everyone got a hit except for Nick Punto - I guess whoever was handing out the hitting party invitations forgot to give him one.

And now, for our guest bloggers - Keeler and Herbie. They don't know they're guest bloggers, but I'm recapping a conversation the three of us had yesterday, to represent two sets of opinions on the Cabrera trade:
KEELER: See - we should have gotten a pitcher. Everyone else got pitchers!
HERBIE: True, we need more pitching - but who was even left to trade for?
KEELER: White Sox got Jake Peavy.
HERBIE:.... who might not even pitch until September. And he cost a lot. And he's old.
STINKY: Plus, if we end up getting rid of Crede, then we can play Harris at 3rd, Punto at 2nd and Cabrera at short, so we'll still have a solid infield.
KEELER: ...but our pitching is terrible.
HERBIE and STINKY: ...yeah. I know.

AND IN CONCLUSION: Cabrera's good. Our pitching currently sucks. LNP needs an invitation to the hitting party stat. Maybe someone mistakenly gave his invitation to Carlos.

p.s. All my future dogs will be named Carlos.

Welcome Orlando

Okay, before we go any further a brief explanation from Peanuts From Heaven, Inc.: please forgive our sporadic posting over the next week and a half or so--one of us is moving 600 miles away from the Twins and the Metrodome, the other is trying to accomplish a great amount of work for their company in a very short span of time. Hopefully, we shall be back to our dedicated dorkiness in full force around mid-August. Until then, keep checking in, and while they may be more rare, our blogs will still be potent.

EXAMPLE:

While we were a little pessimistic prior to the trading deadline, and while ESPN seemed to believe that the White Sox trade for Jake Peavy and the Tigers trade for Jarrod Washburn trumped our acquisition of Orlando Cabrera--we beg to differ.

Sure, we said, sure great pitching is a good thing to have--but Washburn isn't so bad--we've beaten him before, we've beaten Peavy before...and what's more Peavy is hurt and may not pitch at all this season, and what's more, even if Peavy does pitch, he's coming to a tougher league and is pitching in a more hitter-friendly ball park. Meanwhile Orlando Cabrera was on our side and would make a difference on a daily basis, not like a pitcher who can only contribute once every five days.

Besides, we reasoned...our pitching was fine! it was good! it would never do something as crazy as give up more than ten runs in three consecutive games at home after just earning a sweep of a division rival. That would just be silly...

(And that children, is what we call dramatic irony)

But the point is, we are happy to have Oralndo Cabrera, particularly if helps Gogo and Casilla, and particularly if his sense of humor is to pretend to only speak spanish.

There's only one problem, which photoshop personality to go with?

The regionally appropriate, though slightly bizarre--Orland O' Lakes?

Or the generic, but infinitely suaver Orlando Calrissian?

What the F----?

By the way that stands for What The FLUKE!?!?!?

This is by far the flukiest, stupidest, most infuriating road trip I have ever watched. I cannot explain it, I cannot fathom it. I cannot grasp, decipher or comprehend it either (thank you thesaurus at 1:17 AM)

Let us look back at what has happened to us lately:

1. We lost in Texas in extra innings after completely controlling the series up to that point, and it took only one bad pitch from noted loather of bad pitches Richard Alpert Dickey to lose.

2. Justin Morneau did not catch a pop fly--which may be because Justin Morneau felt bad for it...pop flies are not as attractive as him.

3. We had a ten run lead and lost it because our bullpen, which had been so dominant for the past two or three weeks suddenly couldn't control anything: witness--

3a. Bobby "K-Zone" Keppel giving up his first runs....EVER.

3b. Jose "Pretty Princess" Mijares giving up his first home run to a left handed batter....in a YEAR.

4. Despite this disaster, we still came close to winning the game, only being thwarted by an umpire's terrible call that prompted Michael "Cutey Pants" Cuddyer to become angry...seriously? Cuddyer getting angry? That's like Mother Theresa calling you a ASDF@&*#%AKFGASL!@$!!!

5. Through all of this Joe Mauer suddenly decided to see what it felt like to occasionally NOT hit the baseball...that changed tonight, presumably because Mauer learned that hitting like Alexi Casilla is not fun...unless you are Alexi Casilla.

6. Tonight, Dread Pirate Joe Nathan couldn't find the strike zone, and he's there so often that it has a seat indentation from his butt.

7. The tying run tonight bounced off the only possible part of second base that WOULD NOT lead to an inning-ending, game-winning third out.

Now, I love the Twins no matter what, and I will cheer them whether we win or not, I just cannot understand why we have to lose in such stupid manners? I mean...I do not like losing 16-1, but I understand it--if we do not play well, we should lose. The other games?....the ones where we make minor mistakes that turn into total devestation....I don't get that. I don't expect to win every game--just the ones where we don't play like a pack of platypi with their bills in the mud. (Hopefully, since Baseball is a game of averages, losing three games in so totally stupid a manner will later be balanced out by our winning three games in a totally stupid manner.) 

I can come to only one conclusion: we have offended Set, the Egyptian God of Evil. I do not know what to do now. I would beg for forgiveness, but it would be to a god of evil...which does not seem cool. I mean...look at this dude, we might not want him on our bad side--but having him on our good side seems similarly nas-tastic.

So I ask you, loyal reader, what the fluke should we do about this fluking losing jag we're on?

(Ps, feel free to include Set in your answers, or "fluke", or pie...whatever)

The Mollification of Mr. Cranky Pants

Last night I was torn between three dominant emotions:

1) Tenuous excitement about a slim lead

2) Tremendous excitement about a big lead

3) Tremendous terror at our 9th inning debacle

However, to be fair, if Ze Ubermensch and Pretty Princess Mijares are going to have one bad night per month that it should be during games where we have a nice fat lead.

But lost among the number of homers, and imploding bullpen is perhaps the greatest play of the night: in the 6th inning, with Jason Kubel on first, one out, and Cuddyer at the plate the following signals were exchanged between Scott Ulger and Jason Kubel.

ULGER: Right shoulder tap, left shoulder tap, brush right leg (Translation: Run really really hard when Cuddy hits the ball)

KUBEL: Left helmet touch, nose touch (Translation: I don't wanna.)

ULGER: Helmet brim graze, buckle tap,buckle tap, buckle tap (You're a professional athlete--RUN!)

KUBEL: Right elbow wiggle, belt buckle tug, brush left leg (But we've lost the last few games when I was trying to run hard--and besides, I brought my giraffes with me.)

ULGER: Chin scratch, deep knee bend, helmet shake (We are not having this debate, when the ball is hit RUN HARD!!)

KUBEL: Touch tongue to nose, pirouette, jete, jete (Can't I be a ballerina instead? It's fun look!!)

ULGER: Break down crying (For the love of everything holy, RUN!)

Kubel, out of mercy to Scotty Ulger was prepared to run, but then he looked at his banner holding giraffes, still gripping their anti-running banner but with a look of abject disappointment on their faces. So, when Cuddyer tapped the ball lightly to second, Kubel ran a little, then stopped, just, stopped, because running is stupid. The second baseman was flummoxed, confused, utterly supracted, and failed to turn a double play, finally tagging Kubel in bewilderment.

Cuddyer was on first, and then Brendan Harris, Delmon Young, and Carlos Gomez hit the ball real hard and we scored three much needed runs. Which was followed the next inning by the ultimate display of Kubel's anti-running feelings: a home run.

While Ulger and Gardy would have preferred the running, but the giraffes clearly like not running more--and there are few things more terrifying than peeved giraffe.

Damn the Third

That makes it: Yankpires/Forces of Evil/Admitted Steroid Users/Probable Steroid Users/Absurd Wads of Cash/Darth Steinbrenner--3

Good guys/Dread Pirates/JM Squared/Starting Pitchers/Garden Gnomes/Sweetness and Light--0

I think what makes this all so terrible is that, except for the leaving men on base (which we don't normally do) and the disaster area that is the bullpen, we should have won these games. We've got the skills to beat these guys, and we just aren't catching the breaks. 

Probably because Yankee Stadium and all those who reside there are pure unadulterated evil.

Please, just make the pain stop.

Ze Ubermensch on Balks

Last night mi madre was wringing her hands, sighing, moaning ready to pick up a lamp and hit herself in the head when Jesse Crain came in for not one, but TWO! innings of work.

It seemed that Ze Ubermensch would acquit himself surprisingly well, until Curtis "Crashing-into-Walls-is-my-middle-name" Granderson (his monogrammed towels are pretty big) hit a triple, and then again when C. C. i. W. i. m. m. n. G. feinted to home and caused a balk, which made my mother cover her eyes with her hands. And led to the following conversation in the duggout throughout the middle and the bottom of the fourteenth:

[Twins walk dejectedly into duggout]

Crain: What is that umpire talking about? Balk! What is the meaning of this word? To fail to stop motion prior to delivering a pitch? This is a logical fallacy of the highest order!! [Kubel singles, and Nick Punto quickly runs away from Crain to pinch run] 

What is motion? The action or process of being moved, but moved through what? The rule is needlessly vague. [Span runs away from Crain to bunt Punto to second, and comes back to sit on the duggout steps rather than next to Crain] 

I will grant that motion normally occurs through space, but what of time, what of the eath's rotation. We are all of us moving at all times. To come to a "complete stop" is impossible. [Tolbert dashes up to the plate, and singles home Punto to tie the game. After sliding home Punto crawls back to the duggout to avoid Crain] 

Every second my arms move forward in the slow march of history towards their inevitable death. [Filled with this morbid thought Mauer grounds out then goes to call his mom to hear about happy things] 

And given the earth's rotation, we are each of us moved, perhaps we are only moved millimeters, but we are moved simply by staying upon this rock. [Eager to hit Morneau watches four wide pitches for an intentional walk, but asks for four more just to clear his head of Crain's gobbledegook]

Furthermore. If motion is an action, then the failure to move is also an action. An act of inaction, that therefore negates the totality of "actions" and "motions" [Cross-eyed and bumfuzzled Cuddyer fortunately watches four balls go by to load the bases]

Ultimately, the combination of external forces as well as the self-negating definition of stopping ones motion (which, as I have shown is itself a motion) the previous run should not have scored and we should have already won the game, isn't that right Joe Crede?

[Crede is the only person sitting within 9 feet of Crain, as Carlos Gomez has stuck his head in a Gatorade jug and Delmon Young is warming up for relief, Crede can only nod his head and step to the plate. His brain full of complex thoughts and notions each more complicated than the last, rendering his whole psyche a whirling torrent of the cosmos and infinite meanings of man. Then he sees a curve ball]

Crede: CREDE SMASH!!!!WITH BARBED WIRE BAT!!!!!!!!! CREDE SMASH!!!!

Crede Smash, Crede Smash Indeed.

Low Expectations...

We bloggers failed to actually be near televisions this weekend, but we repeated a new mantra:

"Low expectations, low expectations". If we don't demand in our minds that the Twins win every game--maybe they will. If we don't expect the bullpen to hold leads--they probably will. If we don't expect Justin and Joe to hit back-to-back home runs every game--it will happen.

Our mantra worked wonderfully well all Friday and Saturday, and seemed to be working Sunday, until the topic in the dugout turned to Mothers Day.

Dr. Cakeburn: I love my mom, she's the one who introduced me to Betty Crocker

Cuddyer: I love my mom, she's the one who made me so adorable.

Princess Mijares: I love my mom, she taught me about magical fantasy worlds, like the one I live in!

Morneau: I love my mom, she's the one who gave me food and made me strong.

Jesse "Ubermensch" Crain: I love my mom, she taught me about the nihilistic overtones of colored blocks in Kindergartens

Mauer: I love my mom, she's the one who gave me my sideburns.

[Pause]

Dr. Cakeburn: My mom's not expecting anything 'cause I'm pitching, I baked a seven-tiered cake, one for every shut out inning I pitch.

Cuddyer, Morneau, and Mauer: Our moms don't expect anything because we're playing today, but we're going to drive in runs with pretty pink bats, then decorate the bats with hearts and hollow them out to hold flowers.

Princess Mijares: Why did you three guys speak in unison?

Cuddyer: I don't know it just seems like what awesome people would do.

Morneau: What are you getting your mom Jose?

Princess Mijares: Ahh, I didn't really have time...so...maybe I'll call or something later. Excuse me while I go pitch [Mijares gets crushed, and returns to the bench, shaken up]

Mauer: You've got to do something for your mom Mijares, isn't that right Ubermensch?

Crain: Actually, I'm sure my mother believes that the capitalist conditioning culture of Hallmark has coopted genuine affection and replaced it with a string of lewd, suggestive cards.

[Pause]

Cakeburn: So...you're not getting her, anything?

Crain: Maybe a few seeds for future flowers or something...Excuse me while I go pitch [Crain is also hammered, and returns to the bench in tears]

Cuddyer: Yeah, guys I don't think that's the right thing to do.

Morneau: Yeah, I'm sure your mothers love you, and while they'd like any gift at all, a special gift would make them super excited.

Brandon Morrow [Seattle Reliever]: Don't listen to them my fellow relievers, Mothers appreciate whatever you give them. I wrote my mother a poem "Uterus/ You Tear Us/ Tears/ Fears/ Little boy crying in Target/ Uterus"--she said it was "really special."

[Silence]

Morrow: Excuse me while I go pitch

[Mauer, Morneau and Cuddyer simply stand there in shocked silence while Morrow throws wildly]

Brendan Harrison: RESPECT MOTHERS DAY JERKWAD!!!!!!!!!!! [Harris swings at a pitch he probably shouldn't and grounds out to end the game]

So this is all a silly way of saying--Mothers are great, and mothers are masters of low expectations, and when you exceed those expectations through love (not bad poetry) everyone's a winner. 

Especially mothers who teach their sons to photoshop.

Happy Mothers Day

And in a related story....

So I was listening to Sid Hartman this morning....obviously the main topic of discussion was A-Rod's stereoid use. One caller made an interesting point that what really made people feel deceived wasn't so much the stereoids as the lying. Yes, Alex Rodriguez took stereoids...he also did so at a time when it wasn't illegal. If he had been honest in the first place, the outcry probably would not be as intense as it is. Not to say that taking stereoids is ever the right thing to do...just that I think at this point people are more upset about players they admire being deceptive and dishonest.

Also, one very angry Twins fan called in to say how the fans are "frustrated" because the team won't shell out big bucks to hire a guy who can hit home runs.

Really? We are?
I was actually feeling somewhat relieved and reassured that Smith hadn't gotten rid of some of our best young guys for an old guy who may or may not be in good physical condition and who may or may not hit home runs when he comes up to the plate (because look how well that worked out with Rondell White). The caller's argument was "Why can't we pay some money for Joe Crede. When we need it, we can just pull him in and have him hit a home run." Ah, if only it were that simple.

I know we were only one game from the post-season this year, and while that is frustrating, I have difficulty blaming our hitting staff. Remember all those times this summer when we couldn't hold our lead? Yeah. That happened a LOT. Not enough run support happened two years ago...last summer seemed to me like the summer of the failing bullpen. Granted this happened partly due to a young pitching staff that couldn't always stay on the mound very long into the game and the bullpen was getting used a lot, but given that, maybe what we need is one more strong arm in the bullpen rather than Joe Crede. And the Twins have never been a home-run-hitting team. We've always been more of a small-ball team. While home runs are nice, they aren't everything.

And A-Rod is totally a vampire.

Yarr!

Here's my question? Why pull out the Dread Pirate Joe (Nathan) after ONE INNING and put in Gurrier, who promptly gives up a run? I mean, I guess I understand wanting to save Nathan in case we actually did get a lead and needed a save, but...

GARDY: Welp, Dread Pirate Nathan, your time is up.

JOE: BARRGHH!!! JOE NATHAN MUST DESTROY THE ENEMY!!!

Gardy: Nope sorry Joe (Bat-boys emerge from dugout with whips and a stool to guide Joe Nathan back to the locker room)

MAUER: But...Gardy...why? That makes no sense? The bullpen is almost guaranteed to give up a run. You're sentencing us to defeat!

GARDY: Little man, let me tell you a secret. (Mauer leans in close) Sometimes in my little heart, I feel bad for the Kansas City Royals. I think, 'it's the 10th inning. They've come this far. Why not let them win in extra innings? (pause) Also it's past my lunchtime and the hot dog stand is calling my name. But that's beside the point. The point is...kindness. Empathy. Charity.

MAUER: Gee Gardy, I don't think Ayn Rand would appreciate that too much.

GARDY: I'm a Kantian.

MAUER: Oh. So...that explains why you yell and scream a lot at the umpire?

GARDY: Exactly. Biased, bad calls are not a rule by which the entire world should live - therefore, I get angry and yell about them.

MAUER: Oh. Um, well... OK.... (walks away confused) *to himself* My double was all for naught...

NATHAN: (as he is dragged by by the Nathan-taming squad) GARRRR!!!! JOE NATHAN!!!!

And so that is how the Twins lost the finale against the Royals.

Moral of the story: Kantian philosophy and managing baseball teams do not mesh. And also, Joe Nathan is a badass.

The Return of Mojo Gogo

I watched most of today's game with my mom. Which included the immensely amusing shout at Brian Buscher on a hard hit ground ball:

"WHATEVER YOU DO BRIAN DON'T E-MAIL IT!!!"

She meant AIR Mail it...but the mental image of Buscher catching the head high hop, rushing to third base to scan the ball into the system, save it, open his g-mail (account: BuhBuhBuhBuscher@gmail.com), attach the .gif file of the ball and send it to Justin (account: "mrmountie@hotmale.com) was too amusing. In writing, not so much, but she's my mother so laughing at her expense is fine...as long as you're willing to get flipped off.

But my mother had another point to make: "Now, Carlos, don't go crazy!" when I suddenly remembered, it's been a long time since Carlos Gomez has gone crazy. Mostly because Carlos has been to busy swinging at fastballs low and away to do anything but fan the atmosphere. His playing time's been cut, he's moved to the bottom of the order, he's not the same man any more. But when he was plunked by Justin Verlander you could see a flash of the old crazy eyed Carlos. And when Verlander threw to first base four times the gleam grew brighter and brighter until, at last, mild...okay...medium-spicy tempered Carlos Gomez transformed into:

MO-JO-GOGO!

"He hitted me!" screamed Gogo, "He hitted me in de body!!"

"Yeah, I suppose he did," explained Denard, who had not yet encountered the crazed Gomez.

"He must now DIBIMIHAN!"

"What?"

"DIBIMIHAN!"

"Why are you shouting?"

"HE MUS' DIBIMIHAN!! DIS IS AN UNCONSCIONABLE INSULT TO MIMUDDER AND MIFADDER AND MIGREATAUNTSALLY AND MI--"

"I don't understand..." said Denard

"You see Denard," explained Alexi Cassila, who still has not found an amusing persona, but is used as the foil in this situation because we miss him and want to include him on the fun, "Ben finds that phrase funny, so he made it Gogo's catch phrase back in June when the blog first started."

"How many times has he used it?"

"How many times has Carlos determined whether or not we won the game?"

"Fair point."

"Thanks. Now, Carlos is now repeating his catch phrase for Ben's amusement, and the amusement of anyone else who finds it funny"

"So...just for Ben then?"

"Precisely"

"--AND MILETTERCARRIERPERSONAGEPHIL AND MIKIDDIEKORNERNEYBURLYDIA!! oh...I can bat now...so Verlander will DIBIMIHAN!!"

And so Gogo did mightly smite the ball for a two run double to give the Twins the lead and make me so happy that I quickly wrote this post.

Unfortunately the bullpen sucks. And now we are losing again...where's the love bullpen? Huh? Where?? Perhaps its stuck in cyberspace with the ball Justin was supposed to hit out of the park for a walk off grandslam. Damn the interwebs!!

An explanation of the bullpen

Today was one of those great: "hey, wanna go to the ball game?" days. Made all the greater because: a) I had money to spend on going to a game, b) I had my little brother around to enjoy a game with for the first time in 2 years, c) my parents also managed to come...yes...my dad skipped an afternoon of work to watch baseball with the family.

As there was no television for today's game allow me to present the critical information.

Francisco was good but not great.

Randy Ruiz got his hand stuck in a jar of honey and announced "oh, bother!"

Our offense capitalized on a few bad pitches to get three runs across.

Opie Everett whistled dixie in bare feet out at the ol' fishin hole.

Our offense also struggled to remember not to stink when the bases were loaded.

And Livan Hernandez cried a single tear at seeing a victory in his beloved vests...though he was in Colorado at the time.

But most importantly was this insight into the Twins bullpen woes, offered by my little brother Simon, and I quote: "Dude! Joe Nathan LIVES for pressure! If it's a three run lead, he intentionally gives up a home run just to do the job better." Wondering if this was true, I used extendable ears to eavesdrop on the following conversation in the Twins Bullpen.

Boof Bonser: So I was like, "Dude, this is a Morton's Porterhouse PRIME steak! PRIME SUCKA! Only 2% of the beef in America is Prime! Of course it costs more!!"

Dennys Reyes: Obviously.

Brian Bass: Sigh...

Boof: What's wrong Brian?

Brian: I don't know, we're winning and all, it's just...

Boof: Just what?

Brian: I keep thinking of what my career counselor said to me when I was a kid.

Dennys: Did she say you should bottle beer professionally? Mine told me to open a chain of all you can eat restaurants.

Brian: Not really...she said I should avoid stress. That I worked best in quiet peaceful situations, and so I should avoid things like: Open Heart Surgeon, Air Traffic Controller, and Major League Reliever for a Pennant Contending Team.

Boof: So did mine!

Craig Breslow: So did mine!

Jesse Crain: So did mine!

Matt Gurrier: So did mine!

Dennys: So did mine! Though she said that the easy going field of big boy buffet restaurants was clearly up my alley.

Jesse: Joe?

Joe: Uh...yeah...

Jesse: Didn't yours say you should avoid stressful situations?

Joe: Uh...no.

ALL: WHAAAAAT?

Joe: My career counselor suggested I do things that cause most normal humans a high degree of stress.

ALL: WHAAAAAT?

Joe: If I didn't become a Major League Reliever for a Pennant Contending Team I was strongly considering either Emergency Medical Technician, Volcanic Eruption Luger or Olympic Calibre Platform Diver.

ALL: QUE?

Joe: It's like my old Platform Diving coach, Vladmir Dibiasi told me: "Anyone can do a cannonball and be happy. But the moment you perform an hand-standing 3.5 piked sommersault...that's the moment you truly become a man."

Boof: So I'm not a man?

Joe: No, Boof, guys, you're all great. You are good enough to be Major League Relievers for a Pennant Contending Team, I know it's stressful, but you guys are good...so clearly your career counselors were idiots. You need to stop thinking about them and start thinking about us. This is a great opportunity guys, I believe in you. Do the 3.5 pike...be as great as you can be!

Boof: But I like cannonballs...

Dennys: And I like clogging the arteries of the American people with a combination of bacon, bacon-wrapped eggs, and double baconized baconbits of bacon.

Joe: But guys!

Boof: I like cannonballs...

And so it is explained. Our bullpen can be friggin' awesome if we have a gigantic lead and the game is in no way stressful. Then the game must become extremely stressful in order for Joe to be all that he can be.

So remember this for your SAT kids. Joe Nathan:Greg Louganis::Boof Bonser:Burt the Fat Guy at the City Pool. {Not that I'm making fun of your girth Boof...we love you just the way you are...now, please, pass the double baconized baconbits of bacon.}

?????????????

WHOA.
What happened here? 11-6?????????
When I checked the score at around 9:30, while I was having a lovely time hanging out on my porch with my awesome friends and boyfriend, and my roommate's new puppy, we were up 4-0. Then this morning I log on to MLB.com and what doth my eyes behold? How can this be?!?

Well I tell you. Giving up 10 runs in 1 inning generally is not a good thing.
Yep that's correct - 10 RUNS IN 1 FRIGGING INNING.

I don't really want to blame Glen Perkins - a) he actually pitched pretty well except for giving up that silly grand slam to Ibanez (I mean at that point, we were still up by 1 run) and b) he is named after a restaurant that serves bottomless pots of coffee and pancakes at all ungodly hours of the morning, making it one of my favorite places on earth.
Really, I blame the bullpen. Yes I know, I've been in the habit of scapegoating the bullpen lately, but that's mainly because when we suck and give up a gajillion runs, it tends to be their fault. Also, among them is a guy with the same name as a fish, and also a guy with the last name Dennys, which in my opinion is a pale imitation of Perkins...kind of irrelevant since Dennys didn't even pitch last night...but I digress.

However, Bass is in fact one of my favorite fish (to eat), and Dennys does have pretty amazing cheese fries. Thus, I may be able to find it in my heart to forgive them. But only if we win our next 10 starts and Chicago implodes like the hatch on LOST.

Here's hoping tonight goes a little better.