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.

Sweet Dreams, Bitter Breakfasts

Strangely, the Twins' West Coast road trip has actually given we Minnesotan baseball nuts a measure of hope (a rarity for any trip towards the Pacific). The offense started to gel, home runs started to soar, and we started to think that maybe, just maybe we'd have a week where we won more games than we lost, starting a positive trend that would carry into June and then July and then keep the Twins rolling towards the most unlikely division title of the past decade.

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.)

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)

I want to vomit in fury!

I am so mad right now that the only recourse I can think of is to vomit all over the City of New York. Vomit on Mark Texeira, vomit on Alex Rodriguez, vomit on Kate Hudson, Ray’s Famous Pizza, the Metropolitan Opera, Central Park, 5th Avenue, Broadway, Time Square, the statue of liberty VOMIT! AND NEVER SAY SORRY!!!

That was awful, just awful and it’s not our fault, we did everything we could, its’ these Yankees, and its the city, and its the medias ceaseless love affair with everything they say and do and think. The announcers sound like they have Derek Jeter “Tiger Beat” posters up in their lockers. The sportswriters sound like they just go all gooey every time Mariano Rivera looks their way. They treat us like an unwanted interloper, not even a third wheel, we’re a 19th wheel on the 18-wheel all-powerful force that is Yankee Nation.

I wouldn’t mind so much if we really sucked. I mean, if we were like Orioles bad, or even Royals bad. Because then there’s absolutely no expectation, none at all. But we’re good, and we can compete, we lose by scant margins, we’re undone by one bad pitch, or one bas running gaffe, or in tonight’s case one god-awful idiotic utterly totally horribly blown umpire’s call.

Sure Gogo, Delmon and Brendan didn’t hit when the bases were loaded and nobody was out...but if Mauer had been on second base like he should have been...BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECCCCCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHH!

That’s what you get Yankees, and that’s what you deserve.

I love the Twins, and I’ll love them even if we get swept, but I want the world to make sense, I want things to be logical--how is it possible that we can be another team’s equal, that we can play them evenly, we can match them pitch for pitch and run for run and always keep all the games competitive and yet lose EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. OF. THEM? It’s statistically anomalous. It’s utterly absurd. There should be an average, and equilibrium, maybe not that we win as many games but that we win nearly as many games--3 out of 10, 4 out of 10...something...instead we’ve played 9 games against the Yankees this year and lost....all of them...ARE YOU LISTENING MATHEMATICAL FORCES OF NATURE?!?!?!?! MAKE THINGS COME OUT MORE EVENLY!!!!!!!!

Tell you what, I think we should win 30% of our games against the Yankees...but I’ll be nice, I’ll say that we should only win 25% of our games against the Yankees...for that average to be reached, oh Mathematical Forces of Nature (you beautiful, beautiful system you), we will need to win, and win, and win again...then it’ll be 3/12...25%...The Yankees would still win the season series, but some justice would be restored in the universe.

Please mathematical forces of nature...I beg of you, regress to the mean....help the world makes sense again...I’ll give you a cookie? Will that please you? PLEASE?

Momma said there'd be days like this

Sometimes, you encounter something so terrible that it makes you want to give up on all of humanity, hide away in a rocky little cave somewhere and spend the rest of your days catching fish, living off the land and chasing away any small children who come near you by waving a large, knobbly stick at them.

Things that fall into this category include but are not limited to:
- Bagel Cheddarwurst from my elementary school cafeteria
- The Movie "Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay"
- Sanjaya (well mainly his hair. and voice.)
- Last night's game.

I don't really want to talk about it. We all know how bad it was.

God I hate the Yankees so much.

Moving on. Happy thoughts.

Despite...things...that were bad... there are Kudos to be awarded:
- Go-Go Gomez, for his *amazing* defense, saving us from even further destruction at the hands of Alex Rodriguez.
- Nicky Punto, for some good walks and some great fielding plays.
- Cuddy, for his feel-good home run and his dimples.
- ... and a big, giant massive hug for Scott Baker. *hug*

Side note - Random Ballpark Obvservation of the Week:
Do not teach your children to boo at players. Even if they're A-Rod. It's not cool. I know there's the stereoids and the prostitutes and Madonna and the whole not being able to go out in sunlight or see his reflection thing, but really...come on. Yes, I'm talking to you, mom sitting next to me at the game last night with her 4-year old daughter. Don't make me give you the beat-down.

Yes... we're all about classiness here at PfH.

The evil empire must be destroyed.

The most ridiculous thing we have ever seen

So we were sitting in our hotel in Waukesha, blissfully at peace with bellies full of chinese food and the sweet sense of satisfaction that comes from having Nick Blackburn on the mound, with 2 outs in the 8th and nothing--NOTHING that can come between us and a well earned victory.

But there was something amiss. That something was Brian Anderson, Brewers announcer. Brian Anderson thinks he can see the future--and he can in a way, its just, he sees the exact opposite of the future.

5th inning--"Braden Looper's hurt"--Braden Looper was not hurt

6th inning--"Braden Looper's pitching real well"--We score two runs on three straight extra base hits

8th inning--"With the outfielders playing so deep, there's no way the Brewers will score here"--Then...then...god I can't even write about what happened...it just stunk.

Perhaps we needed to have lower expectations. Perhaps we should have worried and fretted until the final nail was in the Brewer's coffin. Or perhaps this man is Nostradamus, only, you know, not. 

We're going to drown our sorrows in a hot tub. Tomorrow--Noon--good things will happen.