Vote for the Peanuts from Heaven Hall of Fame

As January draws to a close our eyes will turn southward to Spring Training in Fort Meyers and the joys that go along with it. Sunshine. Blue Skies. The sound of Joe Mauer's bat hitting a ball so hard that PETA activists charge him with cruelty to animal skins. And, because we're a weird crew we baseball fans, we'll be dreaming of October--in February...'cause we're like that.

But we'll also be thinking of the players who've left us over the last offseason, and as is our habit here at Peanuts From Heaven, we like to commemorate the fallen with one final photoshop as an induction into our very own Hall of Fame. This is a hall dedicated not to the absolute BEST Twins players, but instead dedicated to those who make watching the game so entertaining and make writing and reading about the Twins one of our favorite pastimes.

This year, instead of unilaterally deciding which former Twin should be enshrined alongside such ever amusing icons as Bert Blyleven and Carlos Gomez, we're going to open the voting to you! In the right menu bar you'll see a poll--click next to the player you want to see a hall of fame photoshop of and we'll provide it! The poll will be open until pitchers and catchers report and the induction ceremony will be held on the first day of Spring Training.

In case you need a reminder the candidates are:

Jesse Crain (A guy so nice we called him "Uber-Menschy" or...Ze Ubermensch!)

Orlando Hudson (About as bombastic as I am)

JJ Hardy (Boy Detective/Dreamy Shortstop)

Nick Punto (Enough Said)

John Rauch (who I didn't make a photoshop of, but who did have this sweet intro video for half a year--which just screams Kenny Powers-esque, doesn't it?)

Matt Guerrier (who also didn't get a photoshop, but was a great straight man to the antics of the rest of our bullpen.)

VOTE AT THE RIGHT!

Something Cool overshadowed by something not

Jet lag is a fickle thing and much as I would have loved to watch last night's victory (our fifth in a row!) I literally could not keep my head upright so I will likely miss out on this week worth of west coast games and simply remain an eager box score watcher in the mornings after (highlights too).

But without doubt the highlight of the game (or the recaps anyway) was the fact that the box score included this little beauty: Cuddyer 2b.

Michael Cuddyer played second base...or in honor of the adorableness that is our big right fielder playing a position normally manned by individuals who look much more like hobbits than he does. Anything that shows off Michael Cuddyer's coolness is normally rewarded with a glowing paean on this blog, but today that homage is tempered with a little anxiety.

You see...I, Scruffy, have come to love Orlando Hudson, against my better judgement. You see, I know that O-Dog is awesome, that he's hitting over 300, that he's setting the table for Mauer and Morneau, that he's helped stabilize the defense and may have played some role in helping Delmon Young overcome his fear of pop flies (They aren't actually exploding insects, like Delmon originally thought). But as awesome as it is that Orlando does all those things, he also talks...a lot...even when it seems like no one wants to hear what he's saying. As many of my friends will no doubt confirm, I often do the same thing.

So in short, I feel like Orlando Hudson is my brother in bombast. And as cool as it is that Nick Punto and Michael Cuddyer hatched a secret plan on the team flight to put Cuddy at 2nd Base, that coolness is tempered by the boiling tea kettle of anxiety I feel when O-dog isn't on the field, because if O-dog isn't out there, then what's to stop our team from behaving normally and thus becoming (shudder) just another baseball team.

Perhaps I'm exaggerating the gravity of this sitaution (wouldn't be the first time). But at the very least I just want to say: "Get well soon Orlando Hudson" and if you need anyone to talk to...well..you know where to find me.

And so it begins...

The Twins are in the Bronx to play the world champion Yankees tonight, and it will mark a much needed worthy adversary for the Twins and a true test of their mettle, but even if they lose (which they probably will) we should be proud of the fact that unlike the Yankees we are not blood sucking drains on society.

After all, the Twins have inspired many creative/inventive characters on this blog: Grizzled Prospector Mike Lamb, Master Librarian R. A. Dickey, Dread Pirate Joe Nathan, Chairman Joe Mauer, Carlos Gomez (who still seems like a figment of our imagination), and of course the Nefarious Dr. Cakeburn. The Yankees view such shenanigans as unbefitting to their hoity toity status as "the winningest baseball team ever" but really they're afraid that the truth will get out.

Consider the woman pictured at left. She discovered the truth, and then vanished...why? Because she discovered the horrible secret, the horrible secret revealed below.

Girl: "There's something odd about you and your friends"

Boy: "...think so?"

Girl: "You all hit the ball harder than any other team."

Boy: "yeah..."

Girl: "You run faster than any other team."

Boy: "Yeah..."

Girl: "Your stadium is littered with free agent corpses."

Boy: "So what?"

Girl: "Are you a..."

Boy: "Say it...say what you know to be true!"

Girl: "A Yankee?!?"

Boy: "Not just a yankee, a yankee vampire!"

Girl: "no...."

Boy: "A Yankee vampire with endorsement contracts!"

Girl: "Noooo"

Boy: "A Yankee vampire who sparkles in the sun! BEHOLD MY ROBERT PATTISON BRAND BODY GLITTER!!!"

Girl: "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"

Friends don't let friends sit in meadows with Yankpires.

God Speed Twins, we're sure that you will probably blow up in a fiery hellstorm of bats, balls, and CC Sabathia's cheeseburgers. Anything better than that and we'll be happy.

And in case you need something to cheer you up here's Orlando Hudson on, among other things: Delmon and Nick's special relationship, Cuddyer's butt, the Lifetime Movie Network and why Kevin Slowey isn't as cool as him.

Better than Steroids...and only half as dangerous!

Right before first pitch a certain song is playing throughout Angels Stadium. While most players ignore this, it seems to have a strange effect on Joe Mauer, who suddenly seems to be unable to say anything at all, but rather keeps bopping his head to the sweet bass beat, and repeating the lyrics over and over again "Money money money money....MONEY!! Money money money money...MONEY!!!" Finally...Justin Morneau steps in to try and help

MORNEAU: Hey, umm...Joe, listen man...the game's gonna start...you alright?

MAUER: MONEY!!!!!!!

MORNEAU: What are you talking about Joe? C'mon man focus, there's a game about to be played.

MAUER: MONEY!!!!!!!!

MORNEAU: Guys? Something's wrong with Joe! [The team gathers around Joe--checking him carefully]

PUNTO: Maybe he ate a bad California roll and is worried about the wasted per diem?

CUDDY: Maybe he's in love with a girl named Money and she cast a spell on him?

DELMON: Maybe I blew his mind with the fact that I can steal bases now?

O-DOG: Ohhhh man!! I know what happened!

ALL: What happened O-dog?

O-DOG: The reality of his contract finally set in, and he realizes that since signed one of the biggest contracts in baseball history from now on any time a reporter talks about expensive contracts they'll show his picture and play this song. The immensity of the situation has set in...unless we act fast he'll end up like A-Rod, Jeter, and Manny Ramirez [Team pauses to imagine Mauer with dreadlocks, painted on top of a centaur's body in a shaving cream commerical. The team shudders, Brendan Harris vomits]

MORNEAU: WE'VE GOT TO DO SOMETHING!! QUICK EVERYONE REMIND HIM OF WHAT'S REALLY IMPORTANT IN THIS WORLD!!!!!! Uh...Uh....MAPLE SYRUP!!!

THOME: Winning the world series!!!

CUDDY: The love of a bedimpled right fielder!!

BLACKBURN: RED VELVET CAKE!!!

O-DOG: That ain't gonna work guys...we want to fix him we can't just talk about things that AREN'T money...we have to address the situation. Like all the delicate elements of finance he now has to think about in order to protect himself and his family in the future.

MORNEAU: Like what?

O-DOG: Let's toss out some elements from this book! [O-Dog and the team open up "Fundamentals of Corporate Finance" and begin reading out terms from the glossary]

MORNEAU: TERMINAL VALUE OF CONTINUING CASH FLOWS!--a future point in time where we expect stable growth for ever.

PUNTO: COST OF CAPITAL--an investors expected return on a portfolio of all the company's existing security.

HARDY: ADJUSTED PRESENT VALUE METHOD--A business valuation model based upon net value if the project is financed solely by ownership equity plus the present value of all benefits of financing. [Slowly Mauer quotes the song less and less...his eyes regain focus and a look of fear creeps on to his face]

MORNEAU: It's working! Gimme that thing! PRESENT VALUE OF TAX SHIELD--TAX SHIELD JOE....TAX SHIELD!!!!!

[Joe jumps up and runs screaming to the batters box where he clobbers a two run home run over the centerfield wall...he returns to the dugout happy, but a little woozy muttering only: "no more finance, no more...no more finance terms...just let me play baseball...I'll be good...no more finance terms." A few innings later, Orlando Hudson is leafing through the book]

O-DOG: Hmmm...this is pretty interesting stuff. It seems like most of us ball players prefer the simplicity of hitting a ball with a bat to this kind of stuff. I wonder if it can have the same effect on other people....HEY! MORNEAU!! TAX ABATEMENT!!! [Morneau, at the plate, gets his big scared eyes and takes out his fear by crushing a pitch to right field]

O-DOG: Nice...[a few innings later]...if this works on a middle infielder, then we know it's good...JJ!!! TREASURY INFLATION PROTECTED SECURITIES!!!! [JJ Hardy swings and hits one harder than Mauer] This'll be our little secret "Fundamentals of Corporate Finance" (wink!)

The moral of the game is this friends: Finance is a powerful and beautiful thing, but sometimes you just have to step back and enjoy the simple things in life, like bedimpled right fielders, Red Velvet Cake, Maple Syrup and hitting baseballs really, really, REALLY hard.

Something old, something new...

This is it. After months of reading pointless commentaries by baseball pundits, after days and days of no news but Scott Boras' latest ransom demands for major league talent, after the weeks of winter finally, at long last, baseball is in the air again.

Last week the other 29 teams in baseball turned up in their training complexes, began trading stories of fishing trips and bar hopping escapades, and this week the coolest team in baseball (the one whose name starts with an "M" and ends in an "-innesota Twins") arrives in Fort Meyers to start pitching, catching, and feeling the warm rays of Floridian weather before returning to what the Twin Cities laughingly refers to as "April".

We've kept a steady eye on the news outlets gathering all manner of information, and though our time in graduate school has precluded us from posting as often as we would have liked to, not posting did allow us to, you know, learn things. But before everyone arrives we'd like to take a moment and say a "Hi, hello," to the newest members of the Twins family.

First, the former Milwaukee Brewers short stop and Betsy, Katie, and pretty much every lady Twins' fans favorite new piece of eye-candy JJ Hardy. To be sure, JJ offers better hitting than most of our recent short stops...but we'd rather focus on his ability to offer unparalleled mystery solving abilities (as is evidenced by the series of novels based on his childhood)

Second, JJ's new double play partner, Orlando Hudson, whose arrival caused Twins fans excitement to reach a high not felt since he of the Radiant Sideburns first arose to the Major Leagues. Best of all, we here at Peanuts from Heaven get to reuse two of our favorite nicknames from last season which we had thought would fall into desuetude with the departure of Orlando Cabrera. Lucky us: two

seasons, two Orlando's (question: did either Orlando's mother name an older son "Oliver", if so, Shakesfan would be most impressed)

Finally, there's Ol' Smokey. You remember him, the guy who tormented us, destroyed us, ravaged our hopes and left them crumbled like the dusty remnants at the bottom of a box of Cheeze Its? Well, now he's on our side...which, I guess makes our team Sawyer to Jim Thome's Faux-Locke (or Flocke, as we might like to call him)

Yet, all the elation at these three arrivals is tempered by the fact that it came at a hefty price. Namely, the one, the only, THE Carlos Gomez. He has, throughout the past two seasons, inspired us to call him a super villain, a cranky pants, a Ringo Starr body double, and a Velociraptor. He talked to his bats, he screamed in primal fury, he leapt, he dove, he refused to take a pitch. He is, without doubt one of the most entertaining players we have ever seen. And while we wish him well in Milwaukee (Algonquin for the Good Land, don't ya know) we have chosen to honor the memory of Carlos Gomez by making him the second member of the Peanuts From Heaven Hall of Fame.

Good night sweet prince wherever you are, and good morning new princes. Glad you're on our side at last.

Super what now?

Apparently there is a football game being played right now that might be kinda important in the course of the season...We here at Peanuts From Heaven respect everyone's right to care about that, but can think of better ways to spend our time than watching a sport whose name is antithetical to the way the game is played (plays involving feet touching the ball in football: 3, plays involving feet touching bases in baseball: MANY).

So, while Stinky celebrates her father's birth, I, Scruffy have just finished watching City of God (which I highly recommend, to everyone who loves a good true life story of Brazilian gang warfare told through a postmodernist lens). But we're not here to pass out movie reviews or wish happy birthdays. Oh no, we're here to take care of some business

1)Dear Body Snatcher GM, We don't know what alien life form you are, and we are a little worried about what you might have done with Bill Smith, but we like your style. Sincerely, Peanuts from Heaven

2) New adventures in photoshop: Keep a look out for the soon to appear photoshops of JJ Hardy, Jim "Smoke Monster" Thome, and Orlando "O-Dog" Hudson. Seriously, compare this with the banner free agents we've signed the last few years: Joe "Ow-My-Back" Crede, Mike "Grizzled Prospector" Lamb, "Tony Fatista"....this is an upgrade.

3) Why we got the upgrade: painful as it is to admit, there's a reason why the ticket price increase was worthwhile. Not just because it's outdoor baseball but because more money from season tickets meant more money to spend on free agents which (hopefully) means more wins during the season. Oh, economics...Hooray for you.

4) Also, Hooray for the stadium/team in general: So admission (and I hope I'm not breaking any privacy laws here), my father works as an EMT during Twins games, and as such had to go take a look at the stadium to plan out routes and safety procedures. (Look at this place it's beautiful even in the snow.)

Also, being an EMT my dad was lucky enough to attend a special banquet thanking the people who work year in and year out to make Twins baseball a safe, enjoyable past time for the whole family. Part of this banquet was a special chocolate center piece including the item pictured below.

Yes, the Twins gave out a chocolate in the shape of a toilet....just let that sink in....chocolate...toilet shaped...AWESOME!!! What a great team!! Who in the hell wants to cheer for the snooty-pants Yankees and their bazillion dollar front row seats when you can cheer for a team who finds potty humor just as funny as you do! [Sigh] So much love.

5) Hooray for turning our attention to baseball. The one saving grace of the Super Bowl...am I pronouncing that correctly? Alright...is that the Twins tend to take this opportunity to advertise for their awesomeness. Witness: THIS AD. I knew there was some reason to watch 22 grown men pummel each other for the sake of a few feet of grass.

Spring is coming--please oh please let it be soon

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.

These are a few of my favorite things

Sure, I could write about Cuddy making history--about the secrets Carl Pavano learned as an undercover Yankpire (determined to bring down their evil organization)--I could write about Trey Hillman needing lessons in crazy from Gardy, or the wonders of MLB.Tv. providing me with a Sunday game with Dick and Coom-dog.

But why talk about it....when I could SING!!

Doubles on bobbles in left center fields

Gogo off sprinting with swift turning wheels

Joe Mauer's title as the batting king

These are a few of my favorite things

Big Justin's bat and 400 foot blast-ez,

Joe Nathan's slider drops guys on their asses,

Casilla, Cabrera and Harris' flings,

These are a few of my favorite things

Blackburn and Slowey and Baker all healthy,

Delmon's supraction...going all stealthy.

When Cuddy smiles and dimples go ping!
These are a few of my favorite things

When all hope's lost

When we're losing

When I'm feeling bad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so sad

Thank you Twins for giving me some of my favorite things during this series. I will return the favor by infringing on copyright law--you're welcome.

[Side note: Tomorrow's first day of school for both Stinky and self, hopefully we can celebrate with blogs aplenty--if not--just pretend]

Hello Darkness My Old Friend...

Forgive this post's tardiness, I wanted to give my cohort a chance to chime in--but vacation is just too much fun.

Anyway, on Thursday night it was "back to the L-column we go, when it stops, no one knows."

And while we would be normally very excited that Delmon got into the Hit Club, it seemed as though once he was in there everyone else wanted to leave. So perhaps our man in Left Field ought to switch to Axe Body Wash--Girlfriend and Teammate approved.

Unfortunately, smell-o-vision is not installed on MLB.TV, so I don't know how Delmon smelled tonight [tear]. (I was also otherwise occupied with a departmental dinner at which I talked more about the World Cup than baseball, and tried not to fixate upon the unknowns in Kansas City.)

Turning it on after we had the lead was delightful. Keeping it on while Shaggy and the Princess and the Dread Pirate mowed down hitters was excellent. Kansas City suddenly deciding it didn't want to play along after Joe may or may not but definitely did nail the outside corner, by hitting a tying home run--That stank. Stank like Delmon's new cologne--"Eau d'.240 hitter."

And so, like a pig in filth, like a college freshman in beer, like Quentin Tarantino in blood, I wallowed--in despondency (not bloody beer filth). And I pondered all the terrible horrible no good very bad things about this season, and the concerning news about Brawny--Justin Morneau--seeing a specialist about an inner-ear infection.

[However, we should note that this inner-ear infection, makes him the second man since Denard Span to need to see a specialist, and making Justin the second winner of our coveted: "FOR GOD SAKE STOP STICKING THINGS IN YOUR EAR!!!!" Award.

You see, after Denard won the inaugural award earlier this year for sticking a lug wrench inside his cabesa, the competition for the second award was fierce below are our three runners up, and the items they stuck inside their melons.

Third Prize: Bobby Keppel--the spark plug for a 1986 Buick Skylark

Second Prize: Alexi Cassilla--a quart of mole sauce from Bar Abeline in Uptown, Minneapolis

First Prize: Carl Pavano--A divot from Hazeltine National Golf Course that was (supposedly) licked by Tiger Woods himself

And the GRAND PRIZE: Justin Morneau for making a Tagalong Blizzard inside his own ear canal and then attempting to feed it to Rookie Jeff Manship by sticking a spoon inside it.

(Honorable mention--minor league division--RA Dickey burned his Norton Anthology of English Literature (Origins to 1700) and stuck the ashes in his ear...good try R.A. But you'll need to try harder if you want to make it back up to the big club.)]

Suddenly there was a tense panic in the voice of Royals' announcers--a drive slicing away from Right fielder "Free" Willy Bloomquist? Alexi Casilla on first? Go-Go-gogogogogogogogogogo--and there was the lead again...and then there was Joe Nathan, and there was drama, and there was me saying: "get this chump sucka!" and then it was over--and our return to the L column was over.

Praise be to Or Land O' Lakes Cabrera--we are outta here. Once again guys--Thanks for your efforts--now FOR GOD'S SAKE STOP STICKING THINGS IN YOUR EARS!!!!

Welcome Orlando

Okay, before we go any further a brief explanation from Peanuts From Heaven, Inc.: please forgive our sporadic posting over the next week and a half or so--one of us is moving 600 miles away from the Twins and the Metrodome, the other is trying to accomplish a great amount of work for their company in a very short span of time. Hopefully, we shall be back to our dedicated dorkiness in full force around mid-August. Until then, keep checking in, and while they may be more rare, our blogs will still be potent.

EXAMPLE:

While we were a little pessimistic prior to the trading deadline, and while ESPN seemed to believe that the White Sox trade for Jake Peavy and the Tigers trade for Jarrod Washburn trumped our acquisition of Orlando Cabrera--we beg to differ.

Sure, we said, sure great pitching is a good thing to have--but Washburn isn't so bad--we've beaten him before, we've beaten Peavy before...and what's more Peavy is hurt and may not pitch at all this season, and what's more, even if Peavy does pitch, he's coming to a tougher league and is pitching in a more hitter-friendly ball park. Meanwhile Orlando Cabrera was on our side and would make a difference on a daily basis, not like a pitcher who can only contribute once every five days.

Besides, we reasoned...our pitching was fine! it was good! it would never do something as crazy as give up more than ten runs in three consecutive games at home after just earning a sweep of a division rival. That would just be silly...

(And that children, is what we call dramatic irony)

But the point is, we are happy to have Oralndo Cabrera, particularly if helps Gogo and Casilla, and particularly if his sense of humor is to pretend to only speak spanish.

There's only one problem, which photoshop personality to go with?

The regionally appropriate, though slightly bizarre--Orland O' Lakes?

Or the generic, but infinitely suaver Orlando Calrissian?