Ye Olde Baseball, and some stuff.

*scary movie trailer voice*
Last year... they were our only ray of hope.
*vision of Reyes, Gurrier, Crain and Neshek walking towards the camera surrounded by haloes of light. Aerosmith plays in the background*
But now.... *screen goes black. Creepy sound effects*
They are our DEADLIEST WEAKNESS.
*montage of bullpen giving up multiple 2 and 3 run homers. Psycho-esqe screechy music*
*close-up of Twins fans clasping their faces in horror and screaming*
Coming soon to a metrodome near you.....
THE BULLPEN.
*screechy noise*
(this film is rated N for NOBODY should have to watch this).



A few noteworthy things happened this weekend:
1) The Twins lost a couple of times.
2) I went to the Renaissance Festival and bought a cool pirate hat.
3) I discovered that my new hat was not, in fact, magical.

1) On Saturday, Twins baseball actually reached the point for me of being difficult to watch.
Baker left in the middle of the 7th inning after having given up a very respectable 2 runs, handing over the reins to Dennys Reyes. BAD IDEA. Lately, handing over the reins to Dennys Reyes has been like handing a gun to a blind cow with rabies. Sure enough, 2 run homer. Then Gurrier comes in to save the day! ....or possibly to give up another 2 run homer. Yay?

Going into the 9th, we had a 2 run deficit where we had so recently posessed a 2 run lead. This was the time for... a TWINS RALLY!!! Old school. Sure enough, the best of the best of the pirhanas, Nicky Punto, with the patience of a saint draws a walk. Denard span beans one in the face and Casilla bunts his little heart out and suddenly it's bases loaded, Mauer and Morneau up!!! OMG!!! How could we NOT score 2 runs??
Here's how: Mauer strikes out swiniging (huh? Mauer the king of patience?) and Morneau hits a smokin' ball at just the wrong angle and lines out to 2nd base. Maybe he was using the old "hit the infielders in the head and knock them unconscious to distract them while we run around the bases" trick, which unfortunately doesn't work quite as well when the infielders have gloves...and they usually do.

It breaks my soul. And I'm sure it breaks the little souls of Scott Baker, Francisco Liriano, Nick Blackburn, Kevin Slowey, and Glen Perkins. Poor lil' guys! They pitch so well and half the time they have nothing to show for it. I'd keep venting but I think I've made my frustration with the bullpen pretty clear over the last few weeks.

2) Yesterday, my smelly co-blogger and I went to the MN Renaissance Festival with a few of our friends - and yes we are huge nerds. We also succeeded in being terrible influences on each other - I talked him into an awesome comedia del'arte mask, and after about 10 minutes of cajoling he managed to talk me into buying a totally sweet pirate hat.

3) As I paid probably more than anyone should ever pay for a hat (but it is, as I said, a totally sweet hat), Smelly says to me "Wouldn't it be so awesome to write in the blog about how you put on your hat and then you checked the score and the Twins won?" Yes. That would have been awesome, and would have also proven the magical properties of the hat. Unfortunately, I could not do this because the Twins lost yesterday. So there it is.

On a more positive note, apple dumplings taste delicious. So does $5 all you can drink microbrew. Victory, however, is the most delicious thing of all - which is why it's a good thing that even though the Twins lost, twice, Smelly won at fencing, and the drunk guy we befriended at the jousting match won at life. You know someone is a quality human being, when they come up to you, drunk and falling over and ask your friend if they would like to bet on the jousting match, except it comes out sounding more like "heyyyyyyyyaouwannabetonnamatschh?"
"Uh...sure," your friend responds, "I think I have a dollar?"
"HOWbout.... a CHICKEN!! I'll bet you a chicken!" (which really sounded like: a;kdsf;j12;kjdf;akn!!!")
"Um... a whole chicken?"
"uhhh....yeahhh!!!!"
"OK well... I'm not sure I really know enough about jousting to bet a whole chicken. What about part of a chicken?"
"uhhh....whapart?...."
"How about the foot."
"ATSCHIKENFOOT???? CRAZY....WOW...TSCHIKEN.....FUT....!!!"
"...yeah..."
It was funny for about 5 minutes, and then we left.

I wish I could post pictures of us in our Mask and Hat, respectively, but I can't find the frigging cable that connects my camera to my laptop, so we will have to go without. Rest assured they'll be here soon.

So about half of this post was about baseball which is pretty much par for the course.
Today is the day of rest but we'll be back tomorrow, with more updates from your favorite peanuts :)

Chicken noises

Certainly, the Twins win yesterday was huge, rarely in doubt and tremendously amusing. I had to leave home for a sudden, and fortunately, financially rewarding, shift at work.

However I did get to see the critical part of the game. The Sixth Inning, the one where Justin the Magnificent hit a homerun to right field to put the game out of reach. But what is lost in the highlights this morning is what allowed Justin to do that.

You see, first Little Nicky P had to get on first base. From there he, Joe, and Justin began to taunt A's pitcher Greg Smith thusly:

PUNTO: "Hey! HEY GREGGY!!!"

SMITH: "What?"

PUNTO: "I'm a little bit off first base! Oooooooh! OOOOOOOOOOH!"

SMITH: "Like I care..."

MAUER: "What are you? Too scared to try and throw out Nicky?"

MORNEAU: "He's scared of a balk!"

PUNTO: "He's a chicken!"

MORNEAU: "A balkabalkabalka!"

MAUER: "A balkabalkabalka!"

PUNTO: "chickacheekachoo!"

SMITH: "What?"

PUNTO: "CHICKACHEEKACHOO! I sound like a chicken, just like YOU!!"

SMITH: "That's not the sound a chicken makes!"

MAUER: "You should know! Clucky McCluckerson!!"

PUNTO: "CHICKACHEEKACHOO!"

SMITH: "Shut the hell up!!" [And in throwing to first, Smith does indeed commit a balk]

PUNTO: "HAHA! Now I get to go to second!" [And Punto relays the signal to Gardenhire to inform all Twin hitters that Smith can't handle inaccurate Chicken impressions]

MAUER: "Gugalug-gugalug!" [Smith issues a walk]

MORNEAU: "Kookookacha!" [Morneau hits a 3-Run home run]

KUBEL: "Chiba-leeb-ashoo!" [Kubel doubles and Carlos Gomez comes in to run for him]

GOMEZ: "Hackadoodee!" [Gomez steals 3rd]

YOUNG: "Woof." [Smith walks Young, and is removed from the game, the team, the league and placed in a rehabilitation program for pitchers emotionally scarred by inaccurate Chicken impressions]

Perhaps this new strategy will get us into the playoffs. Perhaps the Twins will reconsider their careers and become professional petting zoo guides. Perhaps I've watched too much Arrested Development. Perhaps no amount of Arrested Development is too much. Perhaps hypotheticals suck.

Whatever the truth is, we won. And the only casualty was Greg Smith. Now please join us in a moment of silence for Mr. Smith.