A Country for Old Men

Since I'm back in Ohio and Stinky is vacationing in Montana, we must turn to our embedded reporter/columnist: Merlin the Wonder Dog for this post:

--August 18, 2010

Who says we don't respect our elders anymore?

Let's be honest here, I'm a dog, so a lot of this seems silly to me as an outside observer. Why are all you humans having a hullabaloo over a 40-something grown man playing a children's game. The cheers, the screams, the wall-to-wall media coverage, what gives? And why haven't you given me some food yet? But every once in a while, when an old dog rises to the occasion, we can't help but smile and cheer and become illogical puppies again.

"I mean, it's great, just so so great. He just...GOD...he makes me feel like I could do it myself" says Ron, his head shaking and his white hair shining in the light. "He deserves all the praise he gets and more!"

"I wanna be like him when I grow up!" said little Danny, a wide-smiling kid taking a break from Bieber fever to notice the brilliance of days gone by. "Only...maybe not so wrinkly!"

"Of course I'm happy, but don't you boys hit him too hard! He has a bad back!" said one of our local knitting champions.

Even out of towners know they're seeing something special

"Awesome. That's all there is to say about him, he's just awesome" says an unnamed grizzled southern farmer who had come to Minneapolis on business. "I don't follow sports much, but I mean, how can you not know about this guy! Pretty amazing stuff"

Ozzie from Chicago simply said: "Oh my jebus! You're a talking dog! What the *@#%&#^$!"

Despite the fact that yes, I am a talking, writing, dog, I think we can all agree (except Ozzie) that Jim Thome is the most important figure on the Minnesota sports scene. That his dedication and honesty can serve as a humble beacon after years of scandal and disrepute. That he is all that is good about sports.

Sports can inspire us (even the animals who force you to stop watching the game so we can go to the bathroom...though if you potty train us we can all stay inside...just saying). Sports can lift us up. It can show us what was old is new again, that perseverance pays off, and that even old dogs can learn new tricks.

--Merlin

*In other news, some guy...Farvruh...Favor...Favoray? Whatever, he's so inspired by Jim Thome that he will come and play for the local futbol team. So...I guess that's exciting.

You know it's a bad night when...

a) we're losing so bad I write a post mid-game

b) Dick and Bert resort to discussing European Geography (No, Dick, Marseille is not near Germany)

c) Stinky and I are texting as a way to avoid watching the game

d) All of the Above

While there have been some nice things (Bobby Keppel rediscovering his old friend the strike zone--woohoo! Delmon Young playing well--DOUBLE WOOHOO!!!!) and we still have a chance, tonight's game has been, well let's just say it: Crapulent. But why? Well perhaps you remember this fellow.

Set--the multiheaded Egyptian god of Death and Evil who plagued us throughout the West Coast roadtrip and, after taking a three game break to attend the wedding of Linsday Lohan and Dark Lord Ba'al (during which we swept the White Sox), has returned to take a dump all over our pitching staff. Stinky believes that this is not true. That it is a godless world--devoid of Egyptian, Greek, Norse, even Asante deities--which plagues our team of late and that this accounts for our woes (she is actually in attendance tonight, so perhaps she can provide a first hand account, while I am left only to imagine)

But while we two may disagree this is a family affair--so we put it to you readers: Tell us what you think? What is ailing our boys in blue? Deism? Secularism? Barak Obama's Kenyan Birth Certificate? What? Inquiring minds want to know. And our bloggers* are willing to give you a kiss on the lips for the best answer.

File your answers below--we look forward to your suggestions

(*okay, only Merlin wants to kiss anyone on the lips--but still--he's adorable, so share your thoughts!)

The best part....

of our win last night was (in addition to Mr. Morneau's home run and my co-blogger's aura of goodness and light in my place of employ) was watching the vaunted Red Sox line-up strike out and then whine about striking out.

Intrepid reporter Merlin overheard the following conversation in the Red Sox dugout after both MVP Dustin Pedroia and MVG (most vile goatee) Kevin Youkilis finished their warmups prior to the first inning.

Pedroia: I hear from Ozzie Guillen that this pitcher sucks!

Youkilis: I hear from the ESPN that we rule! [chest bump]

David Ortiz [sitting away from everyone, crying softly over his slowly dying career]: I would not say such things if I were you...

Pedroia: Whatever old timer...you just miss the days in Minnesota when you were all potential and no production

Youkilis: As opposed to now when you are just no production at all

Pedroia: OH SNAP! [chest bump]

Ortiz: You two don't understand...the Nick Blackburn you've heard of in scouting reports is no more...

Pedroia: What do you mean?

Ortiz: He used to struggle, used to fail, used to be another erratic young pitcher, but then, one day he learned how to harness the power of cake, and now...now...

Youkilis: Now what?

Ortiz: Now he uses the power of cake to bedevil hitters and render them utterly useless, feeble, groundball swatting turd piles...do not speak ill of that man, for if you do, the mild-mannered Nick Blackburn you all believe to be hittable will vanish and in his place will rise the nefarious Dr. Cakeburn, hurler of pastries and despoiler of batting averages.

Pedroia/Youkilis: Whatever, we're totally awesome, and we chest bump all the time [Chest bump]

...later in the first inning Pedroia is behind in the count 1-2, smiling smugly to himself, then finds a Little Debbie Zebra Cake thrown across the plate...befuddled, and hungry, he lunges at it, then pretends he did, is called out on strikes and doesn't even get to keep the Zebra Cake.

...Still later in the first inning, with Youkilis behind in the count 1-2, stroking his goatee smugly in the face of Justin Morneau he is startled to see another Zebra Cake pelting down at him, he too lunges, and he too strikes out.

Back in the dugout Pedroi and Youkilis look over at Ortiz who simply shakes his head and says:

"That's the power of cake M*****-******s"

Look at Ortiz's stomach, that man knows the power--and danger--of cake.

*Ps, yes, I know that Pedroia and Youkilis also got hits and Pedroia got an RBI double off of Blackburn, but the mopey whiny looks on their faces after the strike outs were just too beautiful--chest bumping knuckleheads.

Why We're Losing

You know what, I do not like the whole losing thing, particularly when it happens whilst we should be winning. Worse still, I cannot explain why we lost to one of the worst teams in baseball, and now we have to come home to face the flannel-wearing, bongo-patting, disgruntled-poets of the Northwest. Why, why, why?

Fortunately, I'm not the only one asking that question, as our intrepid reporter/pet Merlin discovered in Baltimore.

[After sneaking into the Visiting Locker Room, Merlin's tape recorder captures the following conversation already in progress]

Gardy:--and might I add !^!@#$^^!@#$!!!!

[Silence]

Gardy: C'mon guys...what's the deal?

[Silence]

Morneau: Uh...skip?

Gardy: Yes?

Morneau: Have you ever felt...unloved.

[Silence]

Gardy: Well...no....you see, I'm totally awesome.

Morneau: Well, yeah, obviously but--

Gardy: And you guys are awesome, so what's the problem?

Cuddyer: The fans in Minnesota don't think so...

Gardy: What?

Perkins: The fans in Minnesota can't stop talking about Brett Favre

Blackburn: They don't care about my pitching problems, so why should I fix them?

Crede: They don't care about my hitting problems, so why should I fix them?

Breslow: The only thing they care about is whether or not a 39 year old man can throw a football while wearing purple and gold laundry.

Gomez: I wanna be LOOOOOOOOOOVVVVVVVEEEEEDDDDDD!!!!!

[Gomez sobs loudly, and buries his head into Fracisco Lirano's chest, receiving comforting pats from the starter while Denard, R.A. Dickey, Luis Ayala and Brian Buscher sniffle and have their lips quiver ever so slightly.]

Gardy: Hey, look guys. I know that it seems like no body cares about you, so there's no point in winning, if there's no one who cares about you. But I'm sure, that somewhere there's a group of people who don't give a flying fish fart about Fah-vray

Delmon: Fervor

Redmond: Faa-ver

Gardy: Whatever, somewhere there's someone concocting a silly blog or something about us all, because, to some people, we are so important that they would ignore civilized conversation with the rest of the entire state, just to have us in our life.

Gomez: For [Sob] True?

Gardy: For true.

Gomez: DOGGIE!!!!! [Chases Merlin from clubhouse, back to St. Paul, and hopefully back to respectable baseball playing]

And now apparently Farve, Faver, Favre--whatever, is going to stay retired--so it's back to the Twins, and all their glory (now, they just need to have some glory).

Diversification

Watching tonight's game I came to understand a few things

1-Carlos Silva must really be in love to choose, CHOOSE MIND YOU, to live in Minnesota in the offseason.

2-My mother likes everybody, and wants everyone to do well, not just the local boys. It's just like when I was a kid and she wanted me to win cross country races, but not by so much that I would make the other kids feel bad (ps. me winning was not an issue)

3-As bad a track athlete as I was, I could probably out run Jason Kubel.

And yet, Kubel the great was trying, really trying hard, all red in the face and whatnot, and so, when we trailed and came back, I wondered what had gotten into the big fella. Which is when I remembered a spring training conversation relayed to us by our special investigative reporter/spy Merlin the dog (he has big ears...it works for him)

[A quiet day at spring training, bats cracking, birds chirping, sunflower seeds splattering, a gentle clipping sound of cleats leads to the encounter of our two most prolific sluggers]

MORNEAU: What's the matter Jason?

KUBEL: It's them

MORNEAU: Whom?

KUBEL: THEM

MORNEAU: Could you be more specific in case their are any Corgies with recording devices who will pass this on to bloggers?

KUBEL: Oh, yeah, sure...it's the piranhas. It's Denard, and Carlos, and Alexi and Nick. It's all those guys who get to run around real fast. I just have to trot now and then...and get thrown out at first base the rest of the time...when will I ever get to zip around the bases, like a wicked fast blur? When Justin? WHEN?

MORNEAU: Oh, Jason, you need some diversification in your portfolio.

KUBEL: Some whomanawhatta in my whattahooha?

MORNEAU: Diversification in your portfolio. You see, you and I, we're like investors who know one market really well. Like, snack chips

KUBEL: I love snack chips.

MORNEAU: Of course you do, and you know which brand is best, and whose coming out with new styles and new flavors and you can accurately predict which companies are worth investing in, and which you might want to sell your shares in.

KUBEL: Dutch Crunch's new Rutabega and Eggplant Kettle Chips will revolutionize the industry!!

MORNEAU: *chuckles* Well, that's what we all hope Jason. But you see, if all your money is in the snack chip market, and snack chips are suddenly pulled from shelves because of an outbreak of ebola in a rogue batch of potatoes you'd lose all your money.

KUBEL: NO! IT'S NOT TRUE!! POTATOES WOULD NEVER GO ROGUE!!

MORNEAU: Jason, I'm being metaphorical.

KUBEL: Even metaphorically rogue potatoes are no laughing matter.

MORNEAU: I'm sorry, but you see, my point is, that if you have only one kind of investment, and that investment fails, then you fail. If you have only one skill (like power hitting) and you don't use that skill, then you fail.

KUBEL: So what do I do, Justin?

MORNEAU: I recommend buying Intricon. It's kickass.

KUBEL: I meant with my skills.

MORNEAU: Oh...well...you could always go for more runs. That way, if we ever trail the Mariners by two runs and have Cuddyer on second with two away we could hit back to back doubles that are made possible by our new found speed.

KUBEL: Will you help me?

MORNEAU: Of course.

For the rest of spring training nothing could stop Kubel from trying hard now, even if it was so hard now, he was trying hard now. Soon Merlin reported that Kubel was getting strong now, even though it wouldn't be long now, he was getting strong now...and in the evenings he and Morneau would often follow the advice of strength and conditioning coach Carl Weathers by getting their stew on. Until finally, tonight, they were, gonna fly now.

And that's how, with two big power hitting white guys running fast, we still won the game. Fly on boys...fly on.

Told you so

At the beginning of this week we suggested that Twins' GM Bill Smith had a lot to get done. He only needed a power-hitting, right-handed third-basemen, two or three middle relievers, a non-craptastic substitute at third base and a cure for cancer, for less than 38 cents. 

At the end of the week, Smith walked away with a grand total of none of those things.

What went wrong? Investigative Peanuts From Heaven reporter Merlin the Dog, kept tabs on Smith throughout the meetings and has the following account of the GM's actions.

MONDAY

11:30 AM--Yet again, Tony Oliva and Jim Kaat do not get elected to the Hall of Fame. Smith and all Twins executives start to cry a little bit shouting out: "It's NOT FAAAAAAIIIIIIIRRRRRR!!"

3:00 PM--Still on Time out from his 11:30 temper tantrum, Smith misses a phone call from third baseman Alex Rodriguez who tearfully confesses that his quest for worldly wealth has deprived him of love and family, and now that he understands the true meaning of baseball, he wants to be a Twin so bad he'd even tattoo "Mauer is God" on his right butt cheek.

3:07 PM--A frantic call back to Rodriguez reveals that the Twins are this year's victim of a classic A-Rod punking. "Hahahahahahaha, you got your hopes up," laughs Rodriguez, "your pain is funny."

8:48 PM--The Twins officially give up on signing 3rd Baseman Casey Blake, when Blake asks to be starting third baseman at age 40. Believing that Blake is already 45, because he plays that way, Smith passes.

8:49 PM--The Dodgers do not.

TUESDAY

2:08 AM--Smith dreams about signing Francisco Rodriguez, and CC Sabitha on the same day

7:10 AM--Waking up and believing his dreams to be real, Smith calls a press conference to announce the good news.

8:15 AM--After watching Sportscenter, and realizing it was all a dream Smith announces to his press conference that the good news is that Lost will be bringing back new episodes in January, and that he's totally pumped to find out what happens to Desmond, Sayid and--"the coolest guy on the planet"--Sawyer.

9:00 AM-11:00 PM--Smith and the rest of the Twins staff buy the LOST season 4 DVD set and watch all episodes from start to finish.

WEDNESDAY

11:28 AM--Smith smooth talks his way into crafting trades for Seattle Third Baseman Adrian Beltre in one deal, Chicago Infielder Mark DeRosa and San Diego Third Baseman Kevin Kouzmanoff in another, and Colorado Third Baseman Garret Atkins and Reliever Houston Street in a third.

12:45 AM--Smith arranges lunch dates with GMs from Seattle, Chicago, San Diego and Colorado.

1:28 PM--Smith suddenly realizes that he's accidently scheduled his lunch dates for the same time and the same restaurant! The studio audience laughs uproariously as the GMs from each of the other teams slap Smith in succession and storm out of the restaurant.

1:30 PM--Smith goes to the bar at the restaurant and where former GM Terry Ryan that hopes he has learned a valuable lesson.

THURSDAY

1:09 AM--Having failed to learn any lesson at all, Bill Smith marries Bellagio cocktail waitress Kelli Kalloway at a one hour wedding chapel/photo-mat with two Elvis impersonators as witnesses

12:28 PM--Smith and Kalloway go to city hall to get a quick divorce

2:29 PM--While finishing the divorce paperwork, Smith misses a phone call from reliever Kyle Farnsworth volunteering to pitch for $1 a year, in homage to his hero Lee Iacoca. 

2:30 PM--Smith quickly returns Farnsworth's call only to hear that Farnsworth has decided to stop being such a lame-o and take as much money as he can get from anyone stupid enough to give it to him.

2:31 PM--The Royals come in on cue and give Farnsworth the keys to the safe. 

11:18 PM--Defeated and dejected, with none of the jilted GMs returning his phone calls, with the only calls from free agents jeering him endlessly and Kelli Kalloway out of his life forever, Bill Smith sits down at the bar to wash away his sorrows.

11:19 PM--Despondent and downtrodden, scared by the big city boos in New York, the foul fermenting cheese steaks in Philadelphia and the toxic air quality in Los Angeles, Nick Punto sits down next to Smith to wash away his sorrows.

11:20 PM--Quoth Smith to Punto: "Vegas Sucks."

11:21 PM--Quoth Punto to Smith: "Yup."

11:22 PM--Quoth Smith to Punto: "Wanna play for us?"

11:23 PM--Quoth Punto to Smith: "Sure thing."

11:24 PM--Punto and Smith share a moment, their eyes meeting over a beer and appletini, the music around them swells and they confront their feelings with complete human honesty, and slowly, ever so slowly, their heads incline towards one another, lips purse, eyes close and...

11:25 PM--The bartender asks if they want anything else. Both men suddenly straighten up and stammer: "uh, no, no, no...we're good....yeah, definitely good." Then stand and walk away.

So something got done, nothing big, nothing mind blowing, nothing that got ESPN all twitterpated. But we got Nicky P. So we're on our way.

Well, here we go

I think it's safe to say that this hasn't exactly been a good week. It has been the kind of week that make me want to fashion voodoo dolls in the likenesses of the Cleaveland Indians and let Merlin have his way with them.



I know that wouldn't solve my problems...but it sure would make me feel better.

Sometimes I wonder if the universe is trying to tell us something. Eddie giving up a home run to a hitter he's always dominated? Dread Pirate Joe giving up his first walk-off home run ever? EVER. Not just "first in several years" or "first since the Battle of Hastings", but EVER IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD. Maybe that's the powers that be saying "No, Minnesota Twins... you're not supposed to make the playoffs this year."

You know what I say to that?
...I won't share because it's full of inappropriate language and probably shouldn't be posted on the internet. But it wouldn't be very nice. And then I'd give the fates or buddha or Sylvester Stalone, or whoever controls the cogs that make the world go 'round, a big fat smack in the face with a 2x4. Because that's just how mad this series against Cleaveland made me.

Now I'm just getting upset. I don't really want to talk about it.
I want to get excited about the series against Tampa...I really do. But I need something to make me feel hopeful again.

So sad...

You know what I wrote three hours ago.

Yeah...this game is the absolute opposite of that.

But why? WHY?!?

Perhaps it has something to do with this, as reported by Merlin...the magical dog who knows all, sees all and loves the Twins.

Brendan Harris and Alexi Cassila were walking towards the vistor's clubhouse in Baltimore this morning talking about what had happened the night before.

HARRIS: I feel so alive! I mean, now I'm capable of communicating with people through televisions, it's just great to be alive.

CASILLA: I know! Wait...no I don't.

HARRIS: Silly Alexi, you can't talk through televisions.

CASILLA: Yeah, but, it's still great to be alive. I mean, 24 runs in one day, we are AWESOME!

As they turned the corner into the clubhouse they were suprise, and distracted, by Delmon Young's sudden cry: "SUPRACTION BITCHES!!!"

HARRIS: Delmon, what are you doing?

YOUNG: It's my birthday today! So I'm throwing a Supraction party!

CASILLA: But we were going to throw you a surprise party after we won today's game.

YOUNG: Silly Alexi, suprises are for sissies! SUPRACTION YO!!

HARRIS: So you're throwing yourself a party?

YOUNG: Yeah! Me and Wayne [Hattaway, Twins clubhouse manager] have been up all night setting it up! Well...Wayne set it up I was busy playing with confetti.

CASSILLA: Shouldn't we be getting ready for the game?

YOUNG: Silly Alexi, parties are fun! Look at Nick Blackburn--he should be getting ready to pitch, but he's too busy having fun.

BLACKBURN: Cake is good.

YOUNG: So get in here and try the ball pit I've got set up in the showers. IT'S SUPRACTALICIOUS!!!

The party was, by Merlin's report, fun. Though he tried to get them to try batting practice, pitching warm-ups or any kind of game planning, Merlin is a dog...and incapable of human speech (he reported this to Peanuts From Heaven, Inc. through morse code paw tappings). Hopefully, the team will be so tuckered out from the party that they'll sleep soundly en route to Cleveland tonight...and not lose a game again until Delmon's next birthday party.

I'm Ben MacKenzie, and I DO NOT approve of Toronto Blue Jays baseball

There's a problem with tonight's game in Toronto (not the 3 errors and continuously struggling bullpen which drove me CRAZY, and led to our loss). The problem? The Blue Jays are all about copyright infringement. 

Delmon Young comes on to pinch hit, and promptly supracts himself a ground rule double off the right fielder en route to a three run double from Joe Mauer. 

The next inning Scott Rolen inserted a Mexican Jumping Bean into his ground ball so that it would leap like spume from a geyser over Nick Punto's head, letting the tying run in.

Listen here, Blue Jays. Supraction (TM) is the exclusive property of Peanuts From Heaven, Inc. And it may not be reproduced, reaired or disseminated without the express written consent of Kristina's dog Merlin. The Twins have Merlin's express written consent...mostly because Delmon Young can make kibble appear out of thin air. (In retrospect, we might have done a better job of choosing our lawyer...Merlin's grasp of estate law....a little suspect)

Worse still there's a sign rotating behind the hitters that gives the impression that I, am

 somehow behind the Blue Jays. The MacKenzie investment firm of Ontario is IN NO WAY WHATSOEVER connected to me. As long as you stubborn Blue Jays refuse to die I will remain recalcitrant towards your existence. So do what I'm telling you to...and maybe, just maybe, Peanuts From Heaven will give you some real, honest to goodness, American dollars (if you're lucky)

Regardless of tonight's outcome, we can all take solace in the fact that everyone loves garden gnomes!