Wha Happened #10 (@ Marlins, V.s. Royals, Yankees + Vacation)

We Peanuts will be on vacation in Merry-Old England and Crabby-Old Scotland for the next two weeks.

Game 75
Marlins 4 - Twins 2
After being welcomed to Miami by Will Smith the Twins spend the next day in a haze of scantily clad women and mildly mischievous lyrics, leaving them unable to concentrate at Marlins Park.

Will Smith - Miami from moezechief on Vimeo.

Game 76
Marlins 5 - Twins 3
The Twins have a good deal of early success against Miami's starter in the first inning, they run into trouble against Kevin "Killthrow" Slowey, who savored the opportunity to best the team that let him go. Elsewhere "Dr. Cakeburn" Nick Blackburn, and Boof Bonser plotted their revenges as part of the Legion of Pitching Doom.

Game 77
Twins 3 - Royals 1
The Twins had a lead, but it all looked like it would be for not as the Royals started to find their swing...and that's when Samuel Deduno turned his whole persona up a notch.

"Yo Moustakas, what's greek for better than you: DEDUNO!! HAHAHAHAHA!"
"You know David...your name makes me think...but your swing makes me Lough! HAHAHAHA!! Am I right Bros, am I right?...I'm right."
"Oh, and Eliot Johnson, is it? Say hello to my little friend...his name's Pedro Florimon: KA BOOM!!"

Such was the bro-i-tude of Samuel De-Dude-Bro. It may be obnoxious, but it's in our interest.

Game 78
Royals 9 - Twins 3
Following the previous nights victory, Chairman Joe Mauer (he whose sideburns prompt the moss to grow on trees and whose knees bend into a crouch as the corn stalks droop with their bounty) announced that he would forgo getting hits throughout the series as a sign of his generosity to Kansas City.

"You know, umm...they've had a hard time lately, but ahhh...you know I think they'd really appreciate a little support in their time of need and you know....ummm...hopefully this reminds them that their bourgeois monarchy is a paltry shadow of its former greatness and that they would be better served in a Twins-Territory style dictatorsh--I mean democracy........ya know"

It did not work.

Game 79
Twins 6 - Royals 2
It was a big night as Twins' blogosphere's favorite pitching prospect--Kyle Gibson--made his debut as Kyle Gibson in Kyle Gibson's Twins Debut: Starring Kyle Gibson!! Fortunately Kyle Gibson perfectly embodied the Kyle Gibson-ness of Kyle Gibson by Kyle Gibsoning the Kyle Gibson all over the Kyle Gibson.

Also the Twins won.

Plus! Kyle Gibson

Game 80
Royals 9 - Twins 8
Once upon a time (back in a dark and gloomy age I like to call: 2011) The Twins were prone to face difficult situations and crawl into a little cave of sadness and despair. If they were going to lose it seemed, they might as well lose with their eyes clenched shut and walked real slow and dreamt about an offseason trip to St. Barths.

Sunday, the writing was on the wall. The Twins had a lead and lost it. Every time the Twins got close the Royals came back...but instead of going to their cave of sadness and despair, the Twins kept trying. Showing that even in the face of defeat, they insist on putting forward their best effort.

But they lost. And across the plain those who refuse to enjoy anything shouted: STUPID TWINS! Trying's for chumps!!

Game 81
Yankees 10 - Twins 4
Stupid Yankees.

With the Twins clinging to a one run lead in the 8th Jared Burton entered and then this happened to every Twins fan, Gardy and Burton himself

Also: Stupid Yankees.

Game 82
Yankees 7 - Twins 3
Damn Yankees.

For many years now we have subscribed to the belief that the Yankees are secretly Vampires who leech off of easily duped New York Fans, depriving them of money, human decency and blood to fund the expansion of their empire by turning good baseball players into vampires (and as a result, great baseball players).

You may scoff, but which is more likely: one team making all the right moves for 100 years, or the existence of vampires? (Admit it, it's vampires)

With the injuries and debilitations that have knocked many of the most prestigious Yankpires (your Jeters/A-Rods/Texerias/Grandersons) the Yankees owner-who-shall-not-be-named opted to sign a slew of players, and turn them all into vampires. So it's less like fighting off a single diabolical count (as in Dracula), and more like fighting off a horde of them (as in Underworld or Buffy the Vampire Slayer).

So it was that the Twins succumbed to the death by a thousand-piddly-Yankpire-nibbles

Also: Damn Yankees.

Game 83
Yankees 3 - Twins 2
Seriously, Yankees? Seriously?

You know it's not a good sign when the entire row of people your sitting with gets a little anxious in the fifth (when PJ Walters starts to get hit hard by the bottom of the order).

It's worse when the row of people goes "what's he still doing out there" at the beginning of the sixth.

And it's the worst when there are quickly two men on, first base open and Robinson "I Eat Twins Pitching for Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner and my Tea Time Snack" Cano at the plate...and your faltering pitcher throws to him. (Because that's the moment the entire section of people you're sitting with puts their heads down and just waits for the inevitable boom)

Ballpark Food Haiku

Kramarczek's bratwurst

Plopping mustard, sauerkraut

Out of syllables

Also: SERIOUSLY?

Game 84
Yankees 9 - Twins 5
Oh...god...[sighs, shakes head]...Yankees.

After the first three games, the Twins set slightly lower expectations for their July 4th matinee against the Bronx bombers.
*Objective 1: Kyle Gibson retires future hall of gamer Ichiro Suzuki 1 time! (DONE!!--after two hits and a run...but still...HE DID IT!!)
*Objective 2: Avoid squandering bases loaded opportunities (DONE!!--We only squandered opportunities with two runners on! YAY!)
*Objective 3: Deliver elbow pounds to Justin Morneau (HUZZAH...there was even a reason for doing it!)

Meanwhile, in an alternate reality, our founding fathers set similarly low expectations for their July 4th matinee 237 years ago.
*Objective 1: Declare a couple of ideas to sort of be kind of interesting.
*Objective 2: Address the tyrannical reign of King George the III by passive aggressively not signing or including any kind of personal message inside Ye Olde Hallmarke Carde.
*Objective 3: Only let Ben Franklin drink 13 pints of ale, instead of his customary 15.
...of course in that alternate reality the Minnesota Twins lost their Major League Cricket game to the New York Georges 720 to 15 (but Justin Morneau did hit two sixes...so that was nice...)

Ballpark Food Haiku

Sweet and tangy Pork

Deep Fried Pie and a Ginger

Tastes like freedom, natch.

Finally: SERIOUSLY?!? I mean....SERIOUSLY!?

Mr Peanut: TIE! Justin Morneau and Caleb Theilbar! (One's back in form, the other's never lost it!)
Nutty Buddy: Jared Burton (Come on beardy...let's get it going)

Wish you were here

It's a holiday special post here at Peanuts From Heaven. While this time of the year is normally associated with large shiny objects with big bows on them, we've always more inclined to spend these days  appreciating our loved ones. With both our families in spitting distance from our condo, we have plenty of family to spend the day with: parents can help us reminisce, siblings will goof off with us, and pets will allow us to dress them up in adorable elfin costumes.

As much as we love the family, we peanuts can't help but think about those who aren't around any more.- And after this year as Twins fans there are lots of old favorites who are not around the land of 10,000 lakes. We love our baseball family, and while we know there's little point in reminiscing, we can't help but feel like the right thing to do is share our gratitude for the years of entertainment and amusement that some of our (now former) twins gave us. So, today we'd like to send out our year end thank you cards to those erstwhile members of the Minnesota 9 who now find themselves playing elsewhere.

Dear Jim Thome,

Our thoughts exactly, Delmon

Thank you for being our very own Paul Bunyan slugger. We know you were hoping that we could win the World Series for you  and that didn't come close to happening. But knowing that you'd turn up every day, behave like a pro, and occasionally try out a Minnesota accent makes you awesome. We hope you enjoy Philadelphia (kiss the Liberty Bell for us).


Dear Delmon Young,
Thank you for being the inspiration of one of our earliest gimmicks here at PFH: Supraction. If anyone encapsulated the fine Twins art of accidentally doing something good in a way that left the opponents surprised, distracted and utterly incapable of withstanding our offensive assault, it was you (probably because nobody expected you to do anything impressive...ever). Sure you could be prickily and you ordered your Johnny Walker Blue with 7-Up, but you were ours and for that we're grateful.

Blagheragh

Dear Joe Nathan,
Thank you for the horse flutters, and the arm pumping and the stand up and shout and giving us the feeling that if we could just have the lead after the 8th inning then we should be victorious. It's hard to believe that you're turning in your Lake Calhoun piracy for the chance to eat brisket in Dallas, but we'll wish you well (unless you forget to bring us some brisket when the Rangers come to town)

Dear Kevin Slowey,

Slowey and Mijares at left, after their capture by
a villainous pirate umpire

Thank you for asking out my old co-worker. I'm sorry she turned you down. Thank you for appearing on the Onion. I'm sorry the show was cancelled shortly after your appearance. Best of luck in Colorado, we hope they have more willing single ladies and a greater appreciation of your grisly sense of humor.



Dear Jose Mijares,
Thank you for never suing us for defamation of character despite repeated reference to the whole "Pretty Princess Mijares" character. You're truly an understanding gentleman. Enjoy Kansas City, we have a hunch you'll like the barbecue down there.

Dear Jason Kubel,
Thank you for all your tireless work raising awareness about the "Running is Stupid" campaign. Your power-hitting/slow-trotting around the basepaths was a valuable combination and we hope more of the ground-ball prone rookies in the organization take your lead and swing for the fences. We hope that they savor your smirk in Arizona.


Dear Jim Hoey,
Thank you for...ummm...uhh....thank you for not minding that we can't think of anything to thank you for.


Dear Michael Cuddyer,
Thank you. For the great throws from right field. For the consistent clubhouse leadership. For the powerful bat. For the dimples, and the startling catches, and the clutch hitting, and the willingness to play 2nd base, and 1st, and center, and pitcher. Thank you for magic tricks. Thank you for charity work. Thank you for grit and pluck and pre-game line-up cards. Thank you for being the guy we wanted to see in the batter's box; because you looked so calm, hit so well, and took the team's success so much to heart. Thank you for seeming like the player who would most likely smile bemusedly at our shenanigans. Thank you.

This photoshop is officially retired...*tear*

We've said our thank you's and we meant them all. If you want to thank any of these guys a little more please vote in the poll at the right for the next class of Peanuts from Heaven Hall of Famers (a hall of fame for those who weren't necessarily the best, but were the most entertaining part of a Twins game). You can vote for as many players as you want as many times as you want.

Next week we'll come back with that other part of the holiday season: comparing all the cool stuff/free agents we now have. But for now we hope you savor the holiday whereever you are...and oh yeah, thank you for reading, whomever you are.

A Fistful of Transactions: The 2011 Winter Meeting Recap Post

Time for one of our many December traditions here at PFH: a recap* of all that went down in the Twins-o-verse during the recent Winter Meetings.

*Note: for our purposes "recap" means wild dramatization of events based on hearsay, conjecture and good ol' fashioned irresponsible journalism (see previous years examples here, here and here)

Here's our report.

MONDAY
10:03 AM Terry Ryan arrives at his first Winter Meetings in almost five years to discover that all the other GMs have gotten super cliquey, moved into separate cabins and won't let Ryan eat lunch or join bracelet weaving anymore.

1:21 PM After a few hours of aimlessly wandering the corridors of the Hilton Anatole, wondering if he's made a huge mistake coming back to GM land, Ryan grabs infielder Pedro Florimon and a $16 box of jellybeans from Batimore's minibar. He feels much better about himself.

Welcome back Minnesota Capps

4:42 PM Negotiations to bring closer Matt Capps back to the Twin Cities nearly break down when, in a sweltering hotel room, Ryan asks an aide to "turn on the fans" and the aide turns on a twitter feed of bloggers and ticket holders berating Capps. Leading to an awkward silence

7:35 PM The awkward silence ends when Capps says, "meh, they'd probably say that anywhere. You've got a deal!"

7:36 PM The Capps news hits the internet and the entire state of Minnesota hits its collective head on its computer screens



TUESDAY
8:18 AM After reading the various hyperbolic reactions of those in the Twins bloggery/fan community, Ryan faces reporters. Instead of answering questions, he simply stares sternly and with a measure of disappointment until everyone hangs their head in shame and promises to try being nicer to Matt Capps.

Ham AND Tomatoes?!?

10:47-11:35 AM Ryan intiates a long brunch bartering session with executives from Denver, nearly getting a trade of Kevin Slowey in exchange for exclusive rights to the Denver Omelette. Sadly, Rockies staff members realize that the Denver Omelette is worth far more than Kevin Slowey but do agree to the trade in exchange for a player to be named later and an extra serving of cantaloupe.

3:19 PM Feeling like he's on a roll, Ryan decides to take a run at signing Michael Cuddyer, offering him a three-year deal of for $24 million dollars per year and full amnesty from diaper duty for his new twin daughters.

8:02 PM With most of the major goals of the winter meetings accomplished, Twins front office people begin suggesting TV shows to replace Lost in their annual all-night DVD marathons (a tradition instituted by Bill Smith). Though Terry Ryan is initially hesitant, the vast repository of options on Netflix Instant Queue leaves him staring goggly-eyed through three seasons of Friday Night Lights.

WEDNESDAY
9:51 AM Believing Friday Night Lights to be based on a true story (like the movie and book of the same name) Ryan begins driving to College Station to recruit Brian "Smash" Williams to consider signing with the Twins minor league system as an athletic reserve outfielder in the Ben Revere mold (only with a better arm).

2:36 PM Ryan sadly realizes that Williams is a fictional character...but that Blue Baker sandwiches, pizza and cookies are AMAZING.

6:19 PM In a last ditch attempt to sway Mark Buehrle away from signing with the Miami Marlins, the Twins front office sends a glossy recruitment package to Buerhle advertising the tonnage of fried food available at the state fair, the prominent bike paths, lack of serial killers and nearly 85 days of livable weather.

11:22 PM Buehrle informs the Twins that he is passing.


THURSDAY

Stupid Economist...

7:50 AM Stinging from Buehrle's rejection, Ryan puts together an incredibly complex offer to get Albert Pujols & CJ Wilson involving default credit swaps, bundled home mortgages, averaging out to 22 Million Euros per year.

9:29 AM Before signing this deal, Pujols and Wilson see a recent cover of The Economist (pictured Right) and instead go to Los Angeles, because nobody's dreams of stardom and success ever fail in Los Angeles.

10:18 AM Having learned a valuable lesson from the foolishness of pursuing overpriced free agents with silly promises, Terry Ryan goes back to what he knows best: drafts Terry Doyle from the White Sox in the Rule V draft, agrees to take Daniel Turpen as the player to be named later from Colorado, and grabs a new batting helmet to hold all his cantaloupe.

12:22 PM With his mouth full of cantaloupe, Ryan describes the winter meetings as "productive."

Everything's Bigger in Texas

Especially the bargains!!

Yes, it's time for our annual Winter Meeting's preview post, in which we highlight what we expect to see happen during the annual three day rumor-a-thon in one of the nation's finest Hilton Hotels. For this first time we're going to see blog about the way business is done under Terry Ryan rather than would-be-Rico--Suave Pick-Up Artist/GM Bill Smith.

Thus far, the current offseason has confirmed my old sense that Terry Ryan shops for major league talent in much the same way that my grandmother shops for furniture at IKEA. See, our peanuty grandma has two golden rules when it comes to shopping: first, it has to be practical, and second it has to be "terribly on sale" to justify the expense (no matter how small). So, naturally grandma loves IKEA, get in, go directly to the section you need, pick the best option at the best price and get out; no dithering over the upholstery, no hemming and hawing over which would fit best: get the one you need, get it cheap, get out.

C'mon Target Field, make this happen

Terry Ryan operates the same way. Sure you really need that short stop to tie the middle infield together, but don't go ogling the ruby-encrusted ottoman that is Jose Reyes, Jamey Carroll will do just fine, thank you very much! The Yankees might dither over whether to get a mahogany or Brazilian teak back-up backstop; the Twins get a Doumit and have enough change left over to treat the whole family to Swedish meatballs.

Terry's very disappointed
that you've been so mean to
Matt Capps

So expect much the same this week as the front office heads to Dallas for the Winter Meetings. Other teams will be debating just how fancy to get in their wheelings and dealings, and Terry Ryan will keep on doing what he does best: staying practical and finding deals. So with that in mind, and in the spirit of the Lone Star State's lone star, here's our 5 point prediction for Uncle Terry's Bargain Hunting in Big D.

#1---Sign Matt Capps to be closer for 1 year for $1.5 million and 2 body guards
Bill Smith fell victim to last year's big fad in bullpen decorating: hard-throwing, somewhat-erratic, right handers. Terry Ryan does not like fads and without the time to snooker the San Francisco Giants into giving us another Joe Nathan, so Uncle Terry says: "we'll make do with the budget option and public opinion be damned; you fans were raised better than that...shape up or ship out."

#2--Have Tony Oliva bring Yoenis Cespedes a sandwich
Cespedes is the real deal, a five-tool outfield star who figures to command major dollars just as soon as baseball finds a way to make him legally employable. There hasn't been a Hall of Fame calibre Cuban  since Tony O and there hasn't been a Cuban MVP since Zoilo Versailles, we've got some history here. Sure Cespedes could rely on his natural talent and a big budget team around him to make him great...but if he comes to Minnesota there will be sandwiches, and of course...Tony O. (Sure it won't work, but it's a low cost, high reward way of trying to make something happen.)

#3--Try to Trade Kevin Slowey
We like Kevin Slowey, he's a gentleman and a scholar, he's funny enough to appear on the Onion, we were even trying to popularize nicknames like "SloSlo" or "Killthrow" or "KZone". But the writing's been on the wall for months now. He's also not going to be rejoining the rotation any time soon and doesn't want to go to the bullpen, so unless he starts playing third base like a champion, his days in the blue and red are numbered. The sad part is, he doesn't have much trade value, so at best he could be the "Brendan Harris" of this year's "what-the-hell-give-us-some-prospects-and-we're happy" trade. Fortunately Terry Ryan's track record with tose kinds of trades is pretty good, so fingers crossed!

Bob Dylan's all over this thing Cuddy 

#4--Send Michael Cuddyer a Mix-Tape
All our favorite jams can be on it! Like Green Day's "Time of Your Life" and one of Joe Mauer's rap tracks. We could include personal appeals from local-inspired artists like Doomtree and the Hold Steady. Then he'll realize that he's always really loved us and stop listening to the Red Sox nattering about "Sweet Caroline", and sign a three-year deal for a local discount and the promise that he can replace Bert Blyleven after he retires.


#5--Twiddle your thumbs
Every year we get riled up about the big moves coming during the winter meetings, and every year very little actually happens. This year will likely be no different. Sure some big name free agents might sign with other teams, but the Twins news will likely be confined to one of those four story lines. But rest assured, Uncle Terry's still looking for a deal, patience is a virtue friends...trust the man, just like I trust my grandma.

Weaving a spell

I have come to a conclusion. All the pain. All the suffering. All the terrible horrible no good very bad things that happen to us because of the New York Yankees are a result of fear, or as my co-blogger's mother put it recently: "some kind of magic spell"

I teach literature, so I know that the only really powerful spell is story telling, so I am left to assume that what happened was this:

The starting pitchers (and the sometimes starting pitchers) gathered together for a slumber party at the Metrodome. There was Scott Baker and Glen Perkins, and Cakeburn, and Killthrow and The Cisco Kid and the Master Librarian and Anthony Swarzak. And they played and braided each other's hair and ate popcorn and read teen idol magazines and laughed, laughed, laughed some more.

Then, before it was time for Uncle Gardy the Garden Gnome to tuck them into bed, the mean older brother came back. The brother who smelled of smoking and Southern Comfort/Fanta and evil. KYLE LOSHE.

LOSHE: "Wuzzup, suck 'tards!"

BAKER: "Kyle, you're not supposed to be here! This is our party and our fun-time!"

OTHERS: "Yeah!!"

LOSHE: [picking at the paint on the door jamb, trying to look unconcerned] "Sure, fine, whatever...I just thought I'd see y'all one last time before the Yankpires destroyed you."

OTHERS: "Yankpires?"

PERKINS: "What are they?"

LOSHE: "Yankpires? Oh, nothin'...just the most EVIL THING IN THE WORLD!!!"

OTHERS: "Gasp!"

LOSHE: "Yankpires are Yankee Vampires. They run faster than anyone else, they jump higher than anyone else, they hit the ball harder than anyone else."

DICKEY: "Wait, I'm sorry, who says that?"

LOSHE: "I READ IT IN A BOOK, TARDFACE!! Anyway. Their line-up used to have a man who would eat only hot dogs, pigeon heads and drink root beer mixed with human blood and he would turn that into home runs?"

OTHERS: "GASP!"

DICKEY: "Used to--how long ago?"

LOSHE: "80 years ago NUMBNUTS! BUT HIS GHOST IS STILL THERE!!"

DICKEY: "Vampires can become ghosts? That's not consistent with Stoker's original text, Van Helsing says--"

LOSHE: [PUNCH] "SAME THING'LL HAPPEN TO YOU IF YOU INTERRUPT ME AGAIN! Anyway, The Yankpires don't feel pain, the Yankpires will eat your fastballs for breakfast, your change-ups for lunch and your face for dinner!!"

OTHERS: "whimper"

LOSHE: "It's a shame y'all have to die so bad and everything...it's a shame nobody understands Yankpires like I do. They're misunderstood and I just wish I could lie in a meadow with them, just staring into eachothers eyes as their bodies sparkle in the sunlight..."

DICKEY: "Shouldn't they die in sunli--"

LOSHE: [PUNCH] "SHUT UP!!!!! Anyway...if y'all know what's good for ya, you won't even put up a fight. You'll just run away...like the stupid little NUMBSUCKFACES you are, later...uh....uh...you...uh....THINGS!!!!"

[Loshe leaves but, all the other pitchers look panicked, they murmur scary somethings to eachother]

BAKER: "I hear if a Yankpire spikes you, you become one of them!"

LIRIANO: "I hear if a Yankpire hits a home run off of you burst into a thousand pieces."

SLOWEY: "I hear that if the Yankpires beat you, they take your powers!"

CAKEBURN: "I hear that the only cake that can defeat a Yankpire is a Garlic Forest Cake in the shape of a cross!"

SWARZAK: "SWARZAK!!!"

PERKINS: "I don't feel so good..." [Perkins vomits, then faints]

Just then Gardy came in to say goodnight

GARDY: "Okay boys, time to say good night I--[he surveys the scene]--my goodness! What have you boys been up to?"

BAKER: "Kyle came in--"

LIRIANO: "Even though we told him not to--"

SLOWEY: "And he told us about Yankpires--"

CAKEBURN: "And how dangerous they are--"

DICKEY: "And then Glen vomited and fainted and--"

SWARZAK: "SWARZAK!"

GARDY: "Shhh, shhh, shhh, shhh....calm down boys. Okay, first, Kyle is a tool. Second, Yankpires are real [whimper of fear] but if you are strong of mind and body and if you channel your energies towards cooler things than vampires, things will be okay..."

DICKEY: "Cooler things like what?"

GARDY: "You know...anything that's even semi-decently written: Louis L'amour novels, Superhero comics, supervillain comics, Donald Duck cartoons, stuff about Ninjas and Pirates and Zombies and Werewolves...stuff like that."

DICKEY: "And Victorian Drawing Room FARCES!?!"

GARDY: "Uh...yeah...sure..."

DICKEY: "YYYAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY! G'night!!"

GARDY: "Goodnight boys, good night."

And Gardy left--but he forgot the most important thing about Slumber Parties--after the parent leaves, you must remain chattering for at least three hours. This combination of poor sleep, fear, and vomiting has lead to our defeats. We only hope that we can overcome the evil spell of the Yankpires today...and maybe that we can punch Kyle Loshe in the face.

Happy Birthday America!

There were some not so good things that happened yesterday. Early in the morning we lost in the 16th inning. Our knuckleball expert/uber-nerd extraordinaire RA Dickey took the loss. Our resident pitcher/superhero Kevin "Killthrow" Slowey went on the DL. And we had seats near a guy who claimed that he had to "get in their heads" by screaming out the names of Tigers players, which did nothing more than give us a headache and inspire Magglio Ordonez to hit a 3-run home run.

But still, it was the 4th of July, it was the chance to celebrate America, and no matter how bad things were, there was no better way to celebrate America than to remember the words of one of our greatest founding fathers.

"It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shows, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more."

Those are the words of John Adams. Diplomat. Patriot. Powdered Wig Enthusiast. And the inspiration for the annual brilliance of Little Nicky Punto. As it was last year, so it is this year, and so, while he is not as well known as the home-run hitting big name founding fathers (Morneau=George Washington, Cuddyer=Thomas Jefferson), Nick "John Adams" Punto--you are our hero.

YOU ought to be traded, drunk guys!

So... I don't say this often, and maybe I'm completely wrong but the Houston Astros kind of seem like Jerkfaces. I feel like each team has it's own unique aura - the New York Yankees is that of pure evil, the Twins is one of goodness and light and puppy dogs, and the Astros is that of Jerkface.

So perhaps it is the Astros fault that the stench of Jerkfacitude crept into the seats in the Metrodome and infected those seated around us. At first, all seemed well, adorable sprogs free from school roamed the seats while their parents looked on bemusedly. We sat amongst knowledgable passionate Twins fans, hopeful that Kevin "Killthrow" Slowey might dominate and that our vaunted line up might vaunt all over Roy Oswalt's face.

Killthrow did not dominate (but he wasn't bad), our vaunted line up sputtered and lurched (particularly when Jason Kubel's running is stupid campaign pooped all over the basepaths after a lead off double), and beer flowed freely. Then did the Jerkfacedness seep out of everyone around us and concentrate its full fury on Delmon Young.

Now, maybe I'm just a dreamer, but I've always felt that it's not OK to boo someone on your own team. Does Delmon screw up sometimes? Yes. Do we sometimes shake our heads and bury our face in our hands wondering why?? WHY??? Yes. He might be a bit of a wally, but he's OUR wally dammit. If you boo your own guy, you're not a fan of the team, you're a fan of winning and you should just go cheer for the Yankees and leave us in peace.

Besides, every once in a while, just when you think there's no help for old Delmon (or "Delmont" as my dad inexplicably decided to call him somewhere around the 5th inning and no he was not drunk), he does something crazy like hit a line drive straight to center field and somehow get to second base. SUPRACTION SUCKAS!

We could almost hear Delmon from our seats, sulking in the on deck circle as Joe CRE-D drew his walks and gripped his back in pain. We could hear Delmon plotting, scheming, envisioning his Supractalicious acts of Doom.

"Call me a chump [mumblewumble] say I oughta be traded [mumblewumble] You ought to be traded drunk guys in Section 118 Row 9! JUST WATCH THIS!!" So it was thought and so it was Supracted.

Likewise the next inning, when Joe Nathan threw his only bad pitch of the night and Lance Berkman hit a shot to left field we could sense Delmon suddenly realizing that this was his moment. And as he took off in his little mincing run toward the ball we could almost hear him shout: "I GOT IT! I GOT IT! I'M GONNA SUPRACT THE HELL OUT OF THIS ONE!!" All while Carlos Gomez was shouting "BALL! BALL! BALL! BALL! BALL!" And then did they leap, and Delmon shouted "GOGO LET ME CATCH IT! I MUST PROVE MYSELF! I MUST SUPRACT!!!" (he has impressive lung capacity) and Gogo replied "BALL! BALL! BALL! BALL!" And it was caught and it was good and it was.....SUPRACTION

The Battle for the Strike Zone

Last night at the Metrodome, all was well until umpire Paul Schrieber made a villainous decision, in the sixth inning that would change the course of the game.

Rather than calling a third strike looking, he hesitated, and threw Kevin "Killthrow" Slowey (he of the best record on the team, the killer arsenal of pitches, the admiration of the mass media and badass costume) into the pits of despair from whence derived the only runs Slowey gave up all night. The next inning, he again refused to grant a called third strike to Princess Jose Mijares, which led to more Cleveland baserunners and gritted teeth throughout Twins Territory

What follows is the feverish imagined encounter as Schrieber taunted Mijares and Slowey

Schrieber: Kiss your beautiful record goodbye Slowey!! 6 Innings of work for naught--NAUGHT I SAY!!!

Slowey: You will never get away with this Schrieber...you just don't have a pirate name.

Schrieber: But I have the hat!

Slowey: You look ridiculous

Schrieber: I HAVE A MONKEY!! Besides...I look cooler than Mijares...he looks ridiculous...

Mijares: You know, Kevin--

Slowey: Killthrow

Mijares: Killthrow, fine, he does have a point. Maybe he'd call those strikes for me if I could be something cooler--like a knight or a dragon or something...

Schrieber: NEVER!!! I WILL NEVER CALL A THIRD STRIKE!!! MWAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!

Slowey: Sorry, Jose--you're still a princess in need of saving...but who can save us now?

[Out of the darkest inning in the game came the bellow of]

BLAGGGGGHRRRAAAGGGGHBADDARRRRRRRGGGGH!!!!!

Schrieber: What was that?

Slowey: You're in trouble now

Mijares: There's no escaping

[Together] DREAD PIRATE JOE NATHAN!!!

Nathan: BERGGGERWAGGAWAGGA-AAAAYYYYYY!!! [Subtitle: Now, that's a Pirate Name]

Schrieber: Wow...you are intimidating, but why are you in black and white, whilst we're in color?

Nathan: ARGGERWAJJASTARRRRRRGLE!! [Subtitle: Do not waste time questioning my artistry, prepare to suffer my wrath!!]

[The Dread Pirate Joe Nathan proceeded to fire pitches at blazing speeds until only one member of the Indians remains, and with two quick strikes, the Dread Pirate Joe Nathan is poised for the death blow]

Nathan: BLARGH!! 

Schrieber: Ball!

Mijares and Slowey: C'mon man, that was a strike!!

Nathan: BLARGH!!

Schrieber: Ball TWO!!!

Mijares and Slowey: You jerk face! Come on Nathan make him pay!!

[Nathan winds, fires, and slams a fastball off of Schrieber's head so hard that it drifts out to Delmon Young in left field where it is caught for the third out. Nathan frees Princess Mijares and Kevin "Killthrow" Slowey, and as he walks past Schrieber's prone body murmers]

Nathan: BLARGHARAGHBERK! [Subtitle: "Dread Pirate Nathan--PUNK!"]

Lesson of the night: Never doubt our bizarrely imagined Twins characters, whether they be intimidating superheroes, pretty pretty princesses or Dread Pirates of Doom.