The Newest Twin

By now, you may well have heard about the Brewers' newest addition, an adorable stray dog the team has adopted named Hank.

Because dogs take a lot of time and energy to own (and are an unreasonable expenditure of payroll) the Twins will not be following suit. However, our own cat Mini has agreed to be an adorable representation of the team's hopes, or lack there of, this season. Starting with this, in the wake of the announcement that Miguel Sano will undergo Tommy John surgery.

A worthy ally!

And this year, as the Twins remain frozen in carbonite out of contention (with .7% chance of making the playoffs) we COULD fixate on analyzing how the little things done by Ben Revere and Scott Diamond and Joe Mauer may or may not play out when the team returns to the playoff hunt in a year (or several), OR we could balance our love for the Twins with a special National League ally to give this season a hint of the old competitive flavor.

I have other reasons that Twins/Pirate
Fusionswill be awesome, but this is special
(Twinstalk.com)

So it's fortunate that the last few days the Twins have been battling the Pittsburgh Pirates. Of course we've made no secret of the fact that we have a certain fondness for the Swashbucklers on the Allegheny. But why should the rest of the denizens of Twins Territory shift their attention to this particular squad?


SO GLAD YOU ASKED!

1. AL teams are now and will remain our adversaries. Cheering for one of our direct competitors (a team we've battled for years and will need to battle for future years) can lead to conflicting emotions when the Twins get back to business, so while seeing former Twins like Ron Washington or Delmon Young get a hard fought playoff spot might be nice, it comes with the knowledge that sooner or later we'll have to destroy them. (Ergo we need not cheer for the AL)
2. The midwest rocks. We here in "flyover" country don't need the razmatazz of major media markets, or the obscene luxury suites that populate various capitals of industry. The more blue collar you get, the more dedicated and focused you are on the teams and players who bring a little notoriety your way. (Ergo we scratch the NL West (save Colorado/Arizona) and the NL East from our: teams to cheer for list)
3. A little history goes a long way. It's easiest to join fan bases that are already a part of baseball lore. When fans can reminisce and brag up the glory of their guy and their best teams you get a sense of that passion. When fans reminisce about purple uniforms...that's just weird. (Ergo, now we can ignore Colorado, Arizona and Houston) But by the same token Twins fans tend not to mope about the problems of the past when the present is so darn entertaining unlike some other teams we could mention (Cou*CUBS*gh!)
4. Everyone loves an underdog. And if you're the World champions you aren't an underdog (even if you did lose your MVP). It's been twenty years for the Twins you have to hope that if they don't do it some other hopeful franchise might (Ergo, St. Louis doesn't need us)
5. Milwaukee is Milwaukee. Enough said (Ergo no Brewers cheering).

Please add one of our guys to this welcoming committee
(From: sfdiamondgirl)

So that leaves us with two teams, the Reds and the Pirates. The two teams who are (conveniently) first and second in the NL Central. But the Pirates have been waiting longer for a playoff berth, longer for a world championship, heck, longer for a winning record. Moreover, they've got this absurdly awesome education program, and their the setting for the new Batman movie! Best of all, they may be in the market for a new leadoff hitter/outfielder or a slugging first baseman (and be willing to give up a top pitching prospect for them)...so maybe we could cheer for our beloved Twins and the Pirates simultaneously (if you know what I mean).

So, while we remain Twins fans first-and-foremost, we'll make the time to root, root, root for the Pirates and we invite you to do the same.

But these are all our biases, where do you land in the quest for relevant baseball team to watch?

Fly Over Country Baseball Pride

Even though we've been unable to watch all of the thrilling game 5 madness the last few days, Stinky and I have been reveling in the Midwest's October Glory.

For once, we don't just mean the fall foliage that dots the landscape of the upper midwest, though--certainly--writing this blog from a coffee shop in a quaint Wisconsin lakeside village, with elms and maples turning orange and golden and faded green in early afternoon light is pretty awesome. No, we mean the fact that our preferred play-off teams all managed to do pretty well. Sure the Rays got bumped off by the Rangers, but everybody else we were rooting for: the Cardinals, the Brewers and the Tigers, pulled out big series wins.

It's nice to know that our cheering for a team does not doom them to suckitude, and nicer still to know that we are blissfully free from three more weeks of "pinstripe mystique" and "four aces of the apocalypse" talk. Sure, some people will talk about low ratings and the fact that very few people beyond the Milwaukee city limits cares about the Brewers, but that misses the point.

The point is that, right now, the best baseball is being played in our neck of the woods. And it's being played by a bunch of guys who used to wear the Twins Blue and Red. So even though Delmon Young will be nursing an oblique through the ALCS, we'll keep chearing for the Tigers and our supractalicious ex-left fielder whose tattoos and glower seem to suit the hardened blue collar edge of the Motor City.

And even though the Cardinals have won more World Series' than any team whose name does not start with a "Y" and end with an "ankees", we'll cheer because there's little Nicky Punto scooping up grounders and flipping them to a glacier sized first baseman between the beer signs and the red brick facades of a classic old stadium in a classic baseball town.

And even though they're our border war neighbors, we'll keep cheering for the Brew Crew and the home run slide and Bob Ueker calling a World Series game, because last night there was our hyperactive ex-centerfielder careening across home plate with a giddy slide and popping up in a fit of glee to "BEAST MODE" it up with the vegetarian first baseman and goofily bearded closer.


Forget the big markets and the big budgets and the big names. Let's keep this ride going on to November! Let's relish the chance to see champagne corks get popped alongside bottles of Bud and buckets of cheese curds and gallons of axel grease. Let's root, root, root for fly over country and the parts of America where fandom isn't written off as a business expense and stars are nurtured over years rather than bought up during the offseason.

It's a great time to love baseball, and a great time to love the midwest. (Luckily for us, we love both!)

Root, Root Root for...? (Our Extremely Biased Guide to the Postseason)

Well, we're a few days into the playoffs but better late than never! We know you've been waiting with bated breath for us to instruct you as to who you should cheer for in the post season...but we're not going to. Instead, we are going to make logical (hah) pro and con lists for each matchup, tell you where our hearts lie, and let you pick from there.

ALDS: TEXAS V. TAMPA

Rangers - PROS
- Everything's bigger in Texas...so...make of that what you will.
- I dare you to find a cooler name than Yorvit Torrealba.
- Josh Hamilton
Rangers - Cons
- I really have nothing against the Rangers, but I traveled to Dallas once for work and wasn't a huge fan.
- ...it's Texas.

Rays - Pros
- I know they're this big power hitting team now, but in my mind the Rays will always be the ultimate underdogs, which makes them cool in my book.
- Their late-season run to eliminate the Red Sox was quite glorious, and very Twins-Circa-2006. Reminds me of when times were good.

- They play in an incredibly ugly dome, which also reminds us of good times.
Rays - Cons
- Johnny Damon

Verdict:
This one's kind of a toss-up. I think I'd feel good either way - but for some reason my heart seems to lie with Tampa.

ALDS: NYY Vs. Detroit

Yankees - Pros

- I'm super excited for the Verlander/Sabbathia matchup tonight after being cruelly robbed of it on Friday.

- Derek Jeter
- Mariano Rivera
Yankees - Cons
- Nick Swisher
- A-Rod
- Smug and obnoxious Yankees fans
- Emperor Palpatine

- Lord Voldemort

Tigers - Pros
- AL Central Solidarity
- Delmon Young... that trade made no sense to me, and I miss my Delmon. I hope he gets a better shot with Detroit than he did with us.
- Justin Verlander
Tigers - Cons
- I make fun of Tigers fans all year (except this year)... it's hard to go from cheering against them to cheering for them
- Detroit

Verdict:
As my dad would say, "Go Delmont!!" I wish to see him prance to a World Series Victory. Go forth and prosper, Detroit Tigers.

NLDS: St. Louis Vs. Philly

Cardinals - Pros
- Albert Pujols
- Nick Punto
- We visited St. Louis on our baseball road trip two years ago: it's a nice city and the fans seem like cool people.
Cardinals - Cons
-.... I honestly can't think of any

Phillies - Pros

- Delicious Cheese Steak

- My friend Lewis lives there

- Amazing pitching rotation of awesomeness

Phillies - Cons

- I once got lost in Philly trying to get back on the highway after stopping for a cheese steak. It was miserable - we were lost for probably an hour and got stuck in ridiculous traffic. You fail, city of Philedalphia.
- High payroll. Pinstriped jerseys. Eastern division domination. Remind you of anyone else we know?

Verdict:
I'm gonna go with St. Louis, more because of how much I like the Cardinals than because of any bad feelings towards the Phillies.

NLDS: Milwaukee vs. Arizona

Brewers - Pros

- Prince Fielder

- Ryan Braun

- If you haven't heard Bob Uecker call a game, you're missing out

- Neighborly love

- New Glaurus

- Cheese

Brewers - Cons

- Neighborly hate

- Constant drunkenness: we also went there on our baseball road trip and saw people passed out on the concourse.

- Strange phallic hot dog races

D-Backs - Pros

- Scrappy young underdog of the NL

- I dunno...I'm generally a positive person

- ...that's about it really.

D-Backs - Cons

- D-Backs sounds suspiciously like D-Bags?

- Douchey Fans: D-Backs hit a home run over Ben Revere's head and a fan yelled "YOU SUCK REVERE!!" When interviewed after the game and asked what he had yelled the fan proudly repeated the sentiment. So apparently Ben Revere sucks for not owning a jet pack? Bad form, D-Backs fans.

Verdict:

We'll give our support to the cheeseheads next door!

Well, that's all we have for now. If you'll excuse me I have to try to stop the cat from eating Ben's tie and shirt buttons.

The truly faithful

I could feign ebullience at last night's win (but one good inning does not a resurgence make). I could rail about Kubel & Thome going on the DL. I could fret about Joe Mauer going 0-5 in his return to live baseball. But I'd rather focus on someone who still has absolute, unadulterated faith in the Minnesota Twins.

The man in question is my old Grad-school chum and die-hard Tigers fan Conor Patrick Harmon. [That's him in the cap, next to the happy Indian's fan Jared Hatch.] What's that you say? How can a Tigers fan believe that the Twins are bound to win this year? Well, quite simply Conor believes that the Twins are simply lying low waiting around for the comeback to end all comebacks.

As he said to me when the Twins/Tiger series came to a close on Wednesday night: "Pssh, whatever man...this is just the end of a two month trick. Just wait, they'll come up with some obscene "Twins" run of 27 wins in 28 games, and everybody in the media will say: 'worst first two-months to the best four months in baseball history', they'll say 'oh, we should have known not to sleep on the Twins, and Gardenhire and Morneau.' And of course they'll come back to beat the Tigers in the end of the season, you'll throttle us in September and take the title. You can't fool me man!"

So there it is...Conor has proclaimed it, and I make it a habit never to doubt a man with a beard that is greater than my own. Here comes the comeback!

A little story

Once upon a time there was a relief pitcher for the Minnesota Twins who thought that he was actually early 20th century philosopher Frederich Nietzsche. He wasn't really, but this did not stop him, or uninformed bloggers, from believing it was true.

One snowy winter day in December 2010 (the 11th to be exact), Jesse Crain and his teammates decided to take a stroll through downtown Minneapolis. "Dudes," said Delmon Young. "Why are we walking in a blizzard?"

"I have no idea, but this is super fun!" cried Matt Tolbert, leaping and bounding over snowbanks and laughing with joy. "He stopped in wonder at the top of a hill from which he could see the metrodome. "Wow guys!" he said in a half whisper. "Look at it, it's so beautiful and magical! Like a giant fluffly marshmallow."

"Yeah," said Justin Morneau, tearing up a little. "Remember all the great memories we had playing there? Like when Torii burned half his face off sliding across the astroturf?" They all chucked and shook their heads, remembering his shriek of horror as he realized the friction had set his jersey on fire.

"Good times, good times." Said Kevin Slowey. "Well, even though we don't play there anymore it's good to know the ol' dome will always be there, to preserve our precious mem-". At that moment, there was a deafening tearing sound and the roof of the metrodome slowly collapsed in on itself like a sadly deflating balloon under the crushing weight of a gazillion points of snow.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" yelled Matty Tolbert, frozen to the spot in horror. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! NOOOO WHAT IS HAPPENING? HOW CAN THIS BE???? THERE IS NO GOD!!!!!!!!!!!"

"No," Jesse Crain replied calmly. "There isn't. God is dead. You disgust me with your backwards Christian morality. Behold the power of ZE UBERMENSCH!" He put his hands on his hips and tried to tower imposingly over his teammates but nothing really happened. "That's just silly," Denard Span replied. "God is not dead. He is alive in all of us. I talk to him before every game."

Jesse laughed. "Ridiculous. Everyone knows that faith is just the same as not wanting to know what is true." "But," Denard replied, "we can concieve of the existence of God, therefore he must be real."
"Um, no," replied Jesse. "I can conceive of unicorn, but that doesn't mean unicorns are real."
"They totally are," said Tolbert.
"No they aren't," said Denard. "But horns are real, and horses are real - and it is only because these two things exist that we can conceive of a Unicorn. God is That Than Which None Greater Can Be Conceived - and because we can concieve of this, it must be real."

"Agh!" Jesse cried. "You and your ontological reasoning! You think you can win but you can't! I can't conceive of that...anything...YOUR MOM!!!" And with that he exploded in a tiny puff and turned up four days later in hell. Or actually it was the White Sox clubhouse, but they're pretty much the same thing.

This deeply confused the White Sox front office, and when Ozzie Guillen first saw him his immediate reaction was to attack him with a fishing pole screaming "DON'T LET IT EAT ME!"... but soon they all just got used to him being there and decided to let him stay.
.....
And that's how Jesse Crain became a White Sock.
The end.

Yes, I am writing this instead of my 15 page strategy paper which is due tomorrow. Shut up. I totally have my priorities straight.

The Winter Meetings: The Happiest Place on Earth...if your name is Cliff Lee

On Monday, while the rest of us freeze our patooties off, Bill Smith and the Twins front office staff will start a week in Orlando, Florida. In between riding the teacups and losing their money to one of the few businesses that makes the New York Yankees look impoverished, they'll try and set up the Twins for a run at the 2011 World Series. As is our wont on this website, we'll suggest just what we can expect to happen--and offer a suggestion for just how the Twins Staff can use their surroundings of the Magical Kingdom to their best advantage. (P.s. click on the years to see some of our brilliant analysis from 2009, and 2008)

1st: We sign one fairly solid reliever--Clearly I misspent my youth. Instead of writing, reading and arithmetic I should have been working on one great split-finger fastball. If only I had read this opinion piece from Roy Halladay when I was a boy! Brandon Fuentes, Johnny the (G)Rauch, Matty Gurrier and (our homie) Jesse Crain (Ze Ubermensch) are all ready to pick up big paychecks in exchange for throwing a horsehide spheroid.

With so many members of our bull-pen due for raises, we can probably wave good-bye to most if not all of them. But if we're lucky, we could trick one of them to ride Space Mountain with us, and subtly ask them to re-sign them at a reasonable cost. If we ask this just before we plummet down into one of those super sweet neon lit tunnels, then they'll scream out "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY" and we'll claim they agreed to terms with us! (Deceitful, perhaps...but if you've got any better ideas I'd love to hear them).

2nd: We sign Tsuyoshi Nishioka. Sounds like Nishioka actually is pumped to be a Twinnesotan including those magic words: "I don't think I will give up the idea of going to the majors because of the amount of money"--somewhere, heaven, hell, as a reincarnated goat herder in Tasmania, Carl Pohlad is smiling.

So, after offering $5 million just to talk to him, we can seal the deal with a couple million and a quick glimpse of the glitz and glamour he can expect to find in the Twin Cities!...........Or we could get him into Disney World. (You know, just on the off chance that tater-tot casserole sushi leaves something to be desired.) And if we sign him in Orlando we can promise to take him back to Epcot's Japan section anytime he gets homesick!

3rd: We pick a pitcher or two off the scrap heap. Remember Sidney Ponson and Darren Oliver and Livan Hernandez...you know, the retread guys who nobody else was to keen on so they ended up in Twins uniforms for various lengths of time? Yeah, it's time to do some more of that. And after it worked so well with Carl Pavano can you really blame us?

But sadly, while it worked well with Pavano, he's over our little rebound rendez-vous and setting his sights on somebody with plenty of money and little intelligence (c'mon Mets, you know your cue when you hear it!). So--who's it going to be Bill Smith? Former Cy Young winner Brandon Webb? Former flash-in-the-pan John Maine? Former/Current shoulder-injury hazard zone Freddy Garcia? All of them are available, but to tell who is really worth signing take the whole lot of them to the It's a Small World Ride with a bucket of balls--whoever decapitates the most animatronic moppets before the end of the ride gets the contract!

4th: We toy with the Pittsburgh Pirates just a little bit more. Stinky and I have made no secret of the fact that our National League homeboys are the Pittsburgh Pirates (commemorating the 50 year anniversary of beating the Yankees in arguably the greatest game of Yankee beating ever!). So if the Twins and the Pirates do a little business together, we'd love it!

Turns out that the Pirates are sweet on every female Twins fan's favorite shortstop: J.J. "Sexxypants" Hardy. And nearly got him in a trade...but like a big brother teasing his sibling at Blizzard Beach, we laughed off their plea to play with the cool kids. (Not that I harbor any grudges against my big brother or anything...sniff) C'mon Twins make something happen, if we sign Nishioka, JJ's expendable anyway so trade him away for that nerdy Ross Ohlendorfer guy--we wholly support the idea of more nerds on the pitching staff (especially if Jesse Crain leaves town)

5th: Souvenir Shopping. We say this every year, but seriously...very little actually happens at the Winter Meetings, and if the first month of the offseason is any indication, the Twins aren't really keen to do anything anyway. So, you know what Bill Smith, it's cool if you just want to chill with your co-workers, ride Splash Mountain, check out the Pirates of the Caribbean stage show, you probably won't miss anything anyway. But would you mind picking up about 800,000 of these little beauties for all of us back home?.....Thanks, you're the best!

World Series Game 5: "Fairy tales do come true..."

(Click here for audio accompaniment to this blog)

If you're my friend "Solid" you're laid up with back pain and desperate for good news.

If you're loyal Twins fan/friend "T-Dubs" you're still partying hardy in a down town promenade.

If you're frequent reader/commenter/friend-of-the-blog "Margo" (HI!!!) you're just glad a certain other "Dubs" is going home for the winter.

And if you're a fan of the orange and black, of great pitching and steady fielding, of clutch rookies and young-at-heart veterans, of baseball...just great baseball, you've got to be happy for the San Francisco Giants, 2010 World Champions.

This is a team that won a playoff berth on the last day of the season, a team that had to plow through living legend Bobby Cox and the dominating Phillies just to make the World Series, and a squad that was summarily dismissed as a long shot against a more potent Rangers line-up. (Sidenote to Rangers fans: though the scores suggest otherwise, it was a close series; a good series, and a series that shows how unpredictable baseball can be, thanks for the run, and for destroying the Yankees--we owe you {a little})

For 50 years the Giants have plotted and planned and failed. They've tried and they've tried and they've always come up short (occasionally painfully short: See '62, '89, '02). Several Giants fans have described their fandom as torture and--while certain prisoners of war might disagree--any fan who loves a team truly, madly and deeply from February through November is familiar with that kind of tumultuous pain (unless you're a Yankees fan).

I know this because I spent a large part of my night canvassing for the election, and almost every other house included someone with the game on. Coming to the door they'd mutter about the Indians, or sigh in their Red's t-shirt, or adjust a White Sox cap dreaming of what might have been. Even afterwards, on the phone, I could hear my mom's anguish over what might have been had the Twins just calmed down for a minute.

But here's the great thing: no matter how much each individual wished their own team had a shot at the World Series they were still watching those left standing. They were yelling for Buster Posey (a generational contemporary of most students), they were screaming for Josh Hamilton (an inspirational story of redemption), they were like little kids, even though they had no vested interest in the outcome. My dad sounded thrilled at the cerebral brilliance of the pitchers, like he wanted to get back out onto a field in Libby, MT and throw one more time. Heck, even I felt like a teenager as I heard "Edgar Renteria delivers" flashing back to (sorry Tribe fans) 1997 and his 10th Inning, series winning single that made me smile--even though I lived half a continent away.

For right now, there is no back pain, no hangover, nothing at all to detract from this moment for Giants fans. Willie Mays is smiling, so is Juan Marichal, and Danny Gladden, and Solid and T-Dubs and everyone else who likes seeing a deserving team triumphantly dog-pile like a pack of little-leaguers. Whoever you are, wherever you are it's a great moment to be young-at-heart.

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy

Stinky and I have been talking throughout the LCS and, strangely that's how we feel. It's odd to be elated in Twins territory right now, I know. But if we put aside our personal pain for a minute we can see happy people, and deservedly happy people at that. There's no doubt about it though, we should be happy for them, no matter what we feel personally.

Last year it was the Yankees V.s. the Phillies, pure pinstriped snootery v.s. what some have called "the Red Yankees". It was hard to watch...in part because so many teams go decades without world series trips or victories and those two teams seem to be ensconced in championship entitlement. Where was the underdog? Where was the heart? Where was the basic human dignity that any other team would have brought to the table?

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Mercifully, though the same series was in the offing this year, we will be spared the pain. Instead we'll see one team who has never ever been to the World Series (Texas) play a team who's last World Series Title came before the Rangers were even created. We'll see my compadres in grodie hair (Lincecum and Wilson...an inspiration to the kids, both of you) versus the single greatest ambassador of nerdery in America today (CJ Wilson). And in the end one group of fans who have been waiting for 50+ years will finally get their reward.

It stinks that we lost. It stinks that we lost to a team that played like chopped garbage against the Rangers. But it's over and done with now, we can obsess over postseason strategizing (to arbitrate or not!!) or we can watch and love the last few minutes of summer before succumbing to the long dull winter. So bring on the World Series and the joy and pain associated with it. As long as there's human decency afoot I'm a happy man.

P.s. I know Stinky's got her favorite, maybe if we all ask politely she'll come and tell us why.

Baseball in BG #2 (f. Dr. Stats/CPH & Jen, the Lonely Yankees Fan)

5 months ago I wrote about watching the Twins v. Tigers at a bar here in Bowling Green, Ohio. And while much has changed since that date (the gulf oil spill, tea party primaries, Justin Beiber's hair...) some things are constant. Like Liriano V. Verlander, and good friends who love baseball.

So it was to the aforementioned bar we went, Dr. Stats down from Michigan with his master's degree in tow, along with his fellow Tigers fan CPH and our amigo Jen*, a lonely Yankees fan in the den of AL Central fury.

*Note: Jen is the nicest Yankees fan I've ever met, which might make me view the whole team differently except for the jackassery that other Yankees fans engage in while I'm sitting in a class minding my own business.

Sadly (as Stinky put it in a text) tonight's game "isn't going so well..Correction--didn't go so well at all". Liriano felt sick (perhaps he had some of the same sketchy Labatt's beer we had in BG...it was awful...but it was SO cheap!) and Gardy got tossed on a call so bad even the Tigers fans amongst us mocked it.

Still the evening was educative (and not just because we're all education grad students), in the course of many wings and beers I gleaned the following:

1) We might not realize it, but the Twins are to the Tigers, what the Yankees are to the Twins, an unscalable roadblock which seems unflaggingly determined to ruin our lives. As CPH and the doctor told me, since our victory in '87 came at the expense of El Tigres, they have never forgiven us, and no matter how lopsided last night's game got, neither of my comrades in text books thought it would carry over to the next day (I'm not so sure).

2) But just because there's a mild undercurrent of hatred flowing from Detroit Rock City to the Mini-apple, doesn't mean there isn't some respect too. For one, there's mad love for Gardy: no nonsense, dedicated, kinda-like a cooler form of Santa. For two, there was general consensus that Ty Cobb is arguably the greatest player in baseball history. I love him, they love him, if it weren't for all the racism, everyone else would love him too. (Heck! Stinky made him an honorary, alternate reality Twin!)

3) Jen is impervious to my Yankee-bashing. No matter how snide I

get, she shakes her head and laughs it off (Maybe because her team has 27 world titles and pretends that their drunken home run king was an angel--see picture at right). As she said: "I've come to expect no less from you."...I just hope she doesn't expect anything more from me either.

4) If a total stranger asks you "how's it goin' in there?!?" in a public restroom, there is no response, except slack-jawed stupefaction. This is fact, and cannot be denied.

There will be more baseball in BG outings (hopefully with a little less bathroom weirdness), I only hope I learn as much then as I did last night.

Dear CJ Wilson,

You know, I should be mad at you. I mean, we haven't lost a series since July. We haven't lost three in a row since before the All-Star Break. You seemed determined to make Joe Mauer your own, personal, statistical anomaly, thereby breaking the hearts of Twinnesotans everywhere. But rather than be angry, I am more convinced than ever that you are pretty cool dude.

Why, CJ Wilson, must you be so AWESOMELY NERDY!?!?

It's not just that you appeared in a video with the Lost creators (cool enough) or that you explain Lost on a blog which is simultaneously funny and smart (something I could certainly benefit from taking lessons on) or that you dig on chicks who hang out at Barnes and Noble, BUT YOU ALSO PLAY BASEBALL?!?!? (The sport of nerds from Stephen J. Gould to George Will)

Seriously, I don't like complications. It's far easier just to dislike anyone who doesn't have Minnesota on their shirts...but what with the sci-fi and the writing and the baseball and the nerdery...well I have to face the complication that no matter how confused I am by the strange and foriegn land known as "Texas" I think you are helping to bring the Nerdy back.

For this, we here at Peanuts from Heaven bestow upon you an august honor: you shall be a Lost doppleganger of the Baseball world. Normally we reserve this honor for the Twins (and of course, Jim Thome as the smoke monster) but clearly, anyone who takes time out of his pitching schedule to explain string theory deserves this plaudit.

So for making it cool to be a nerd, and serving as a bastion of dweebery in the the harsh Texas climate, you CJ Wilson are the Daniel Faraday of baseball (appearing out of seemingly-nowhere, a penchant for widebrimmed hats, sciency talk that few other people understand and appreciation for the fine art of facial hair).

So what would Faraday do in this series finale? Well, I would like to see you/Faraday try and convince your teammates that the only way to make it to the postseson is by travelling back in time to 1977 to detonate a hydrogen bomb...but that might have some negative side-effects (i.e. nuclear fallout in the present)...so why don't you get all the other Rangers to time travel and then join our team...we have beautifully knit Norweigan sweaters and other fine state fair products!

We await your decision,

PFH

Moving on to face the most hated team in baseball

So...we lost our first series of the season, reminding us all that few things last forever (Twinkies and cockroaches at last count), and that every day and every game is a new opportunity to start something great. Six series wins in a row was nice, how about we try for seven starting tonight in Cleveland?

And speaking of the comeback kids of the Cuyahoga, we found this news article that was...well...disturbing. It seems that throughout the internet when you tally up all the statements made on message boards and blogs and what not that the villainous, vile and otherwise detestable pin-stripers have not been exposed to the same amount of bile and disdain as four other teams. The Astros, the Reds, the Red Sox and yes...the Cleveland Indians have garnered more disparaging comments this season than the Yankees have. In fact, the Indians have the lowest rating of any team this season suggesting that they are the least liked team in all of baseball.

(To be fair, the group that did the study--The Nielsen Company--claims that these are only reactions to the first 3.5 weeks of the season. The Yankees positive start combined with the fact that most teams haven't played them yet, means that most fan blogs haven't had a reason to disparage them yet. Menawhile the Indians poor start, the local basketball team's title aspirations and a disenchanted fan base mean that even the people who should care about the Tribe don't, at least, not right now.)

So as the Twins head into Cleveland tonight we can think of it like this...we can keep beating up on the little guy and help them to wallow in their crapulence. Or we can beat them but give them a little clap and an encouraging word.

So let me be the first to say: Good on ya Cleveland. You've got really...nice...hair...and it's nice that you aren't you know, bloodsucking vampires who destroy goodness and light the way Yankpires do.

Baseball in BG (f. Doctor Stats!)

Here in Northwest Ohio I'm a mere 90 minutes away from Detroit, and only 20 minutes away from their triple A affiliate in Toledo, which means that Tigers fans are more common than other kinds of fans--although both the Indians and the Reds are at least marginally represented. But in my program, as I've said before there are two big time Tigers fans and last night, one of them and I took a break from paper writing and sat down with a couple beers to watch the Twins V. Tigers.

This meant watching a small screen in the corner turned away from 98% of the rest of the bar who were all fixedly watching the Cleveland Cavaliers and a basketball player named...I don't know if I'm pronouncing this right...Les Browns Jammies? Is that it? Li'l help?

Still and all we enjoyed ourselves sipping our epic steins of Linenkugels and, being the well trained ex-Africa living boys we are, gnawing on chicken bones and sucking all the marrow out of each wing. Over this time period my colleague, whom we will call Doctor Stats for his knowledge of the facts and figures of the game pointed out the following crucial factoids.

1) We were awfully lucky to have Liriano on the hill and to have patience at the plate because Justin Verlander is a mighty fine pitcher with the intensity of a Thunderian

However as Doctor Stats pointed out, Verlander's been throwing over 100 pitches by the 5th or 6th inning in all his starts, meaning that while he's good he over throws sometimes and gets tired earlier in the game. To this end, Dr. Stats noted, 23% of our hitters worked the at bats to a full count...that's a job well done by our patient players.

2) Infuriatingly, at least from Dr. Stat's perspective, was the fact that Mauer went 0-5, and Morneau went 0-3 before leaving with a stiff back* and yet the Tigers still lost, mostly because of two big errors that undid an otherwise sterling (if your name is Verlander) or capable performance (if you're in the bullpen). Which led Dr. Stat's to point out another factoid. The Twins have committed 2 errors all season...the Tigers: 18--excuse me, with last night's two it's now 20!

*Note to all of Twins Territory, just because his back is stiff do not seek out your local witch doctor to banish the evil spirits infecting his vertebrae...at least...don't do it yet.

3) One final note from Dr. Stats, in case you were wondering the ratio of waitress concern for cheap baseball fans to waitress concern for increasingly drunk and excitable basketball fans is largely dependent upon the independent variable of how attractive the statistics guru at each table is--VICTORY CHEAP BASEBALL FANS!!

And victory Twins...and with Finals nearing a close...VICTORY LIFE!!

Clash of the Talking Heads Rd. 3: KANSAS CITY ROYALS

With my return to Minnesota fast approaching I will soon be blocked out of mlb.tv due to blackout restrictions, which means I will soon be forced to suspend my wildly popular* "Clash of the Talking Heads Series". However, once I return to Minnesota I will be able to see games in, you know, person--so I think it turns out as a victory for me.

(*by wildly popular I mean my mom has told me she likes it)

But while sputtering internet connections are still my best chance to watch a game let's welcome two more contestants to the PfH Talking Heads Battle Chamber!

Tonight's Contestants: Ryan LeFebvre and Paul Splitorff of FS-Kansas City.

Credentials: Splitorff was 14 year veteran pitcher with the Royals with a reputation for being a "Yankee Killer" helping the Royals beat the half-Vampires in a couple of games over four different playoff series (which means he has done something our own pitchers can only dream about doing--if they don't wake up with nightmares first). Meanwhile LeFebvre is part of a baseball dynasty and has links to Minnesota as a former Gopher and erstwhile contributer to Twins broadcasts...also his name means "The February" So...that's pretty cool. (Note: Frank White occasionally calls games in place of Splitorff...and this statue of White might be one of the best baseball statues I have encountered in ball park travels.)

Analysis: Competent, solid, steady. These guys aren't going to set your toes-to-tapping but if you get used to them I imagine they would be pleasant enough to spend a season with. Their biggest problem is that they occasionally sound like they're reading off stock quotes rather than calling a ballgame. There's little to no enthusiasm, even in a tense extra-inning game like tonight's, which is hardly surprising when you remember that they are, after all, announcing Royals games. After so many losing seasons, it's a little difficult to feign faith. Still, they share the booth well, and remain positive, avoiding hoary cliches, catch phrases or the kind of jingoistic vitriol we encountered in Chicago. All in all, pretty good.

Best Quote (the most excited they got): LeFebvre: "Hey look, that guy caught a foul ball but gave the souvenir to the kid behind him, if we had a fan of the game, it'd be that fella there"

Splitorff: "Don't know what his date thought of that though, I think she wanted it for herself."

LeFebvre: "Doesn't she have the same pink hoodie you have, Split?"

Splitorff: "I prefer the baby blue, that's more my style, I think."

LeFebre: "That little boy's smile is the biggest one we've seen tonight"

Rating: 3 Blylevens (competency alone makes them the best team I've heard this year, the intangibles of a Yankee Killing pitcher, a Fountain man statue and Mr. The Feburary bump them up another .5 point...if the Royals ever give them something to get excited about they could actually be fun)

More Apologizing/Caption Action

I've been criticized before for apologizing to much and I'm really sorry if it annoys you BUT I'm going to do it some more.

You see, Stinky and I did not realize that graduate school had these things called: "ho-mwu-rk" I think I'm pronouncing that correctly, but there may be an umlaut in there somewhere. Anyway, when it all builds up, you have to spend many many hours dealing with it, which cuts into one's Twins watching time, which makes for sad bloggers, mad bloggers and quiet bloggers. That is why we are not posting much these days...hopefully all will be well eventually, and until then, I'm sorry.

HOWEVER! This should not distract from the glory that was the opening of Target Field! Nor from the fact that both Scruffy's Mother (The Knitting Queen), Stinky and Stinky's Father managed to attend games during the opening set. It was also against the Boston Red Sox which gave us the opportunity to razz our California friend (and one of our most frequent readers) Sparky! But rather than detail stat after stat after stat let's just go to the picture-by-picture replay in a potentially new feature called: Caption Action.

Game 1:

New Park, Same Universal Truths: Running = Stupid

Twins 5-Red Sox 2

Game 2:

Pedroia [to Mauer while crossing home plate]: Call me the Destroyah!

Mauer: No, I don't think I will

Pedroia: C'mon it rhymes with Pedroia when you say it with a Boston accent

Mauer: So does "Bok Choy-ya", You're 5'9", I could literally floss with you...you are not a Destroyer, if we're playing Battleship, you're a submarine, a submarine nicknamed "Bok-Choy-ya"

Drizzle Shmizzle...besides we get to see Delmon and Justin in a batting stance duel "Vwwwing Vwwwing Vwwwing!!!"

Red Sox 6-Twins 3

Game 3:

"But I don't wanna be struck out!!! I start on the all-star team (because Red Sox fans without lives stay up all night voting for me)!!! I was referenced in Moneyball! I HAVE A GOATEE!!!! Slider's aren't fair!!! You're not fair you poop...poop...poopy!!!"

Twins 8-Red Sox 0

Series in a nutshell:

Span & Cuddy: HIGH-FIVE FOR AWESOMENESS!!

O-Dog: Hey look...I can do a sun salutation to the actual sun! Minnesota really IS awesome!

Baseball & Cartoons--The coolest season preview EVER!

So Delmon pulled off the first supraction of the year ("I'm Gonna Run home! JUST KIDDING! Oh wait, I was just kidding about the "just kidding!"). I am now so geeked up for baseball that I can't wait and must now publish a season preview I have been thinking about since Stinky and I took a road trip last summer. (Note: since it is legally required for all baseball writers to use a painfully awkward metaphor to frame their season preview, this is my contribution to that)

Lots of experts have been diminishing the value of the Central division over the past year or two. They claim we're not that tough, they claim we're not that impressive, they claim that we don't have any chance of contending.

These people are snobs and stupid heads. These are the kinds of people who just want to point out the failings of something that thousands of people enjoy just because it's not "the best". You know what else wasn't neccessarily "the best" tv show of all time: Thundercats. You know what that means? The Central divisions of baseball are just like the Thundercats.

Want proof?

A guy with leadership skills who's also hairy and pale?: Jason Kubel = Lion-o

Crazy smart, crazy strong, crazy cool: Albert Pujols = Panthro

Often underrated, great teammate, might even make Lion-o worry about being the leader sometimes?: Justin Verlander = Tygra (Hey look!!! I fixed it so a Tiger could be Tygra)

FASTFASTFASTFAST: Andrew McCutchen = Cheetara (No insult intended Pirates fans, remember, you're our friends we wanted to give you props and keep you as an original Thundercat)

Popular with the kids, but really annoying given how much they complain: The Chicago Teams (as represented by Jeff Smardzjia {Cubs} and Gordon Beckham{White Sox}) = Wiley Kit and Wiley Kat.

Old, and long dead (just like their last world series team): Satchel Paige (representing the Indians) = Jaga (the spiritual advisor to the whole crew)

Mystical, mysterious and little known: Aroldis Chapman (Reds) = Lynx-o (one of the lesser known, late season Thundercats)

Kind of badass enough to make you wish you could see him more (just not as an enemy): Zack Greinke = Ben-Gali

Source of salvation for those who are sick (perhaps from too much drinking): Ryan Braun = Pumyra

And finally, someone totally extraneous that we could all get along without them: Lance Berkman = Snarf.

Of course, there are other characters in Thundercats (just like there are other teams in major league baseball) but these are all irrelevant people. So lets just put their logos on some robot bears and continue:

But no story would be complete with out an antagonist--someone so sinister that they can appear at once frail and feeble and yet wield awesome almost frightening power: George Steinbrenner = Mum-Ra.

You may be saying: this is the silliest thing I've ever seen--where are the stats? What is the point of all this photoshopped weirdness? Why does this person talk about his love for baseball and Thundercats and assume we're all going to listen?

Because--WE'RE AWESOME THAT'S WHY!!! Now, if you don't mind: Thunder, Thunder, THUNDER, THUNDERCATS!!!! HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My dream...

I had this dream last night. It was bizarre and wonderful. Forces of darkness and evil were converging on the horizon. There was Benedict Arnold, and the Wicked Witch of the West, about a zillion orcs, and my 7th grade English teacher. It was awfully frightening.

But all around me were heroes and superheroes. Hercules, the Green Lantern, G.O.B Bluth, Hermione Granger and John Locke (both the bald hunter from Lost, and the eminent philosopher).

When my alarm finally went off, I thought that the final battle had been joined. But no, my brain was just sleepy, and an epic week of serious work lay ahead of me. And to make matters worse...the Yankees are back in the World Series...

Then again, maybe my dream is an allegory for the World Series to come...Maybe it was a sign that I should cheer nonstop for the Phillies and their Hercules (Ryan Howard), Green Lantern (Jimmy Rollins), GOB Bluth (Chase Utley), Hermione Granger (Pedro Martinez) and John Locke (Raul Ibanez--who is not as cool as our John Locke (Ron Gardenhire) but still, pretty awesome). Maybe the forces of Goodness and Light might yet triumph and the Yankpires will be vanquished and I'll get through my homework and actually manage to squeeze in 8 hours of sleep at some point this week!

(Probably not...but sometimes you have to be wildly irrational...just because it's more fun that way)

C'MON PHILLIES!!!!

So THAT'S why postseason baseball is fun!

I knew that there was something great about playoff baseball, I just couldn't quite remember what it was.

Was it the awesomeness of Fox's coverage? No...that's not it, there certainly isn't much to be enjoyed in hearing Joe Buck and Tim McCarver gush and goo over every move that Derek Jeter makes. Seriously, guys, if you catch a relay, and see a baserunner caught between bags but leaning to second...YOU THROW THE BALL TO SECOND!!!! Jeter does it because he is intelligent, so is Erik Aybar, Jimmy Rollins, Orlando Cabrera, Nick Punto and just about EVERY OTHER MIDDLE INFIELDER IN THE PLAYOFFS!!! Just because they don't wear a Yankees uniform doesn't mean they wouldn't make the same intelligent plays when pressed. Stop kissing ass and call the game.

Was it A-Rod's cold, soulless eyes? No, they make for sadness in my soul. Them and Nick Swisher's rock signs, Joba Chamberlian's rope necklace, Mark Texiera's bolster cushion neck and every single word that Joe Buck and Tim McCarver say. STOP SPLITTING THE SCREEN IN HALF AND JUST ANNOUNCE WHAT'S HAPPENING!!!!!

I KNOW!! It's stranding runners in scoring position!! I love it when that happens, guy on third, no outs, that's great...oh, wait, no...no that's not it, that made me want to gouge out my own eyes with sporks.

Wait a second, something's coming back to me. I was watching with people! There was an Angels fan and a Yankees fan...but they were both polite, and insightful and intelligent. They were willing to let me swear and spout vitriol at the tv screen, and not take it personally. They loved their teams and knew them as intimately as I know the Twins.

The shivered and shook with the highs and the lows, the leads and the deficits, the comebacks and the fallbehinds. With each pitch and swing and catch and throw they twisted and turned and lived and died. And while I tried to remain objective, while I tried to be impartial and just appreciate the game I wanted the Angels to win. I wanted it for Adenhart. I wanted it for Torii. I wanted it because I didn't want it for the Yankees.

The camaraderie is what I miss so far from Minnesota, but I won't lie, the winning, the dramatic victory was great. And as Leslie declared her undying love for Jeff Mathis, and Jen sank back into the couch in despair, I realized that this is what matters. The camraderie, the unpredictability, and the excellence of the competition. That's what makes it a pleasure to watch, a pleasure to share. That's what makes it fun.

Let's Give a Cheer for Goodness and Light

I'll be at the Detroit airport during tonight's game, and with each passing second I can feel my will to research the potential positive impact constructivist drama education can have on intercultural competency waning...waning...gone...

Sure it'll be hard, the guys in Detroit will hate me for depriving them of this postseason berth, the announcers will gush and goo over the Yankees like they were their little boo-boo angel pie, and--lest we forget--our boys in blue actually have to, ya know, PLAY the Yankees.

But c'mon, let's not give up yet, let's band together, let's make a pact that no matter how this series goes we will always and forever root for the forces of goodness and light. (A team sorely in need of some support this postseason)

5 Post season games so far, 2 wins for Goodnesss and Light. The Rockies, and my dear pals the Mann Clan, got a game back yesterday against the Phillies (who aren't really bad, but won just last year--so...no more sympathy for you), but the Cardinals dropped a heart breaker and our buddy Albert Panthro Pujols needs some love.

But, there is hope, there is Torii...sweet Torii...lovable Torii...indomitable Minnesota Waffle House Fan Torii--we know that he hearts SoCal now, but Torii, please, remember us and all the fun times we had? We love you Tor-double i, keep up the awesomeness (and send some of it our way)

No more with the mammoth payrolls and the sense of entitlement, no more with the ego-trippin', steroid-poppin', fat-wallet-draggin' teams from Boston, New York and LA (the bad part of LA). Lets go Rocks, Lets go Cards, Let's go Angels, and Let's go Twins!

To break the Tension...

Here's a special fairy tale, concocted by we loyal Peanuts from Heaven to explain the strange but true happenings at Comerica Park yesterday.

Once upon a time, the noble kingdom of Twinnesota was locked in an epic struggle with the equally noble kingdom of Detriger.

The Twinnesotans and the Detrigers fought one another tooth and nail and hair follicle to an epic stand still, and though it seemed at times that one land would surely triumph over the other, it never seemed to go as planned.

On the day of the final battle, the King of the Twinnesotans--Gardy the Gnome, called upon his troops to rally, resolve and prevail over the Detrigers. He sent into the fray Scottius the Baby-Faced, who, confronted with such an imposing enemy force began to hurl his arsenal of weapons wildly, confusedly, bouncing far away from the enemy just as often as it whizzed by their ears.

Finally, Scottius the Baby-Faced did hit Sir Marcus the Surly. Which neither Marcus the Surly, nor King Lelyand the Craggy-faced appreciated. "Grrrr," said Marcus the Surly. "[inaudible mumble/spitting of tobacco]" said King Leyland the Craggy-Faced.

For this reason did Sir Marcus the Surly charge towards the Twinnesotan roguish hero Orlando Calrissian the CDLXVIIth (his progenitor comes from a galaxy far away and a long, looooong time ago, remember?)

Sayeth Orlando Calrissian CDLXVII: "Dude, WTF?"

Sayeth Sir Marcus the Surly: "grrr..."

Sayeth Scottius the Baby-Faced: "My previous pain might have been inflicted by accident, but rest assured Sir Marcus, my next near miss will be intentional!"

Sayeth Sir Marcus the Surly: "double grr..."

Then did all calm down upon the battle field, for surely two such awesome teams filled with neither Yankees nor Dodgers nor be-hosed teams of either Snowy or Crimison-shade should be such enemies. It would be stupid to continue such mewlish, cranky-pants-esque behavior...so the battle was joined again, politely.

Until the Prettiest Princess in all of Twinnesota emerged from the pen of bulls to enter the fray. King Gardy the Gnome was an open minded man and did not consider Princess Jose Mijares to be any less able a warrior than Scottius the Baby-Faced or Orlando Calrissian CDLXVII. But unbeknownst to King Gardy, Scottius or even Orlando, the Pretty Pretty Princess was highly enamored of Orlando Calrissian. The pain nearly inflicted upon him, caused great rage to burn with in her pretty pretty princess heart, and so she decided to try and punish the former Twinnesotan now Detriger warrior: Sir Opie the Goofy Lookin'.

This did not make the Detrigers happy. "octuple grrr" Said Sir Marcus the Surly. "Golly gee, that sure wasn't nice!" said Sir Opie the Goofy Lookin'. "[Inaudible profanity/tobacco spitting]" said King Leyland the Craggy-Faced.

"Oh, F* Bomb" Said Delmondo the Magical. For you see, Delmondo knew of Pretty Princess Mijares' love of Orlando Calrissian, and Delmondo also knew of the debt of honor that all decent people owe other decent people when somebody goes totally insane. Delmondo the Magical would have to sacrifice himself to the Detrigers because of Pretty Princess Mijares mad affections.

Sure enough Sir Jeremy the-guy-I-can't-come-up-with-an-adjective-for-because-he-just-looks-too-bland, did indeed inflict great pain upon Delmondo the Magical. Which made Delmondo the Magical burn with the desire to inflict great pain upon the Pretty Princess Jose Mijares, which led to confusion amongst the Detrigers, and noble King Gardy the Gnome's response of: "sigh....heavy sigh...."

So, to all you Tigers fans who read our blog, know this--we are sorry, that was stupid. We still kind of hope you lose--but if you win, 'sokay, you deserve it.