Wha' Happened #6 (@Indians & Red Sox, V.s. Orioles & White Sox)

Rumors of our demise our greatly exaggerated. Rumors of the school year ending, our student teacher leaving and our work load increasing dramatically are absolutely accurate. Here now, a pseudo-recap of the weeks since the Twins last got a day off.

Game 27

Indians 7 - Twins 6

Long ago I first wrote about the magical Land of Cleve, a blighted kingdom where no team can win for long and where all the knights in the land eventually flee for other kingdom's with better salaries and dental packages.

But a strange thing happened in the last year. The Land of Cleve, they have rebounded, regained themselves and found a new King! King Terry the Lost who shockingly has found powerful knights throughout his kingdom (to complement the slightly quirky: Sir Kyrie who-Likes-to-Pretend-He's-an-Old-Guy-But-Really-Isn't.)

So it was with much confusion that the Territory of Twinnesota entered the land of Cleve for the first battle of the year, only to find that, rather than rolling over and begging for mercy (as they normally do) the resilient knights of King Terry the Lost, rebounded until Sir Drew of the Swollen Toes delivered the fatal blow to our hopes

[Wasn't that a lot more fun to read than just: "Drew Stubbs hit a walk-off..."]

Game 28

Indians 7 - Twins 3

Bad Correia!!

Kevin Correia pitched poorly! Let the indiscriminate blame and pointless recriminations BEGIN!!

Kevin Correia is directly responsible for the Twins loss in Cleveland, Joe Mauer's distraction from hitting, the repeated threat of snow in late April and May and the mailing of toxic ricin to political leaders.

Game 29

Twins 4 - Indians 2 

Let us take a moment to acknowledge the contributions of someone oft forgotten in my offense-centric recaps Glen Perkins aka The Dread Pirate Joe Nathan. (Remember, Perk adopted the intimidating name  to foil hitters. The real Dread Pirate Joe Nathan has been living like a King in Patagonia...or at least a Patagonia outlet store near Dallas)

Dread Pirate Joe Nathan v. 2.0

Sunday, with the Twins staked to a solid three run lead, The NEW Dread Pirate Joe Nathan entered the game determined to triumph in the most Dread Pirate-y way possible to wit: increasing the level of difficulty until his crew mates were convinced he was going to destroy them all...only to triumph at the last second. Following the lead off homer to left he bellowed "FAAARRRRGHARRAGH" [That's pirate for "good, now they have false hope"], then the hard stung single to right elicited an "AVARGH!!" ["Now I must defend my bounty of saves against the agents of the crown"], and when he settled down to end it all his triumphant "BLARGHERAGHERAGH!!!" [suck it Indians!] could be heard up and down the Cuyahoga.

Game 30

Red Sox 7 - Twins 6

Under careful scrutiny since St. Paul native/Twins Legend/Blue Jays Announcer/Walking Mustache Jack Morris accused him of using a substance on his shirt sleeve to throw a spitball, Boston starter Clay Buchholz attempted to throw suspicious parties off the scent of his duplicity by coating his sleeve in a different substance during the first inning.

That substance: suckitude!

And in an even greater sign of his criminal genius, Buchholz, swapped jerseys in between innings, so that one inning of giving up hits to the heart of the order [1st] and the bottom of the order [4th] (after applying copious amounts of suck to the ball) were balanced out by innings of dominance against the bottom [2nd] and heart [3rd] of the order.

Well played Buchholz, Well played.

(On a similar well played note, we were all so amazed at Joe Mauer's leaping catch of a relay throw home that we were brainwashed into assuming that he also applied the tag. Proving that no one plays it as well as Mauer does.)

I'd write more about the end of the game, but sometime around the 9th Red Sock wandering out of the batter's box and fouling off pitch after pitch to prolong the game, I decided that I should sleep...okay, I was put to sleep...which come to think of it is another genius strategem. CURSE YOU RED SOX!!

Game 31

Twins 6 - Red Sox 1

Full confession, I did not hear or watch one minute or second of this game. Instead I was with student-athletes at a track meet in Watertown which does not yet have a huge out-of-town-scoreboard (hint, hint local taxpayers!). But with 7 innings of shut-out ball, Scott Diamond is more than welcome to join the team I coach as an endurance instructor. (Back up Red Sox Third Baseman Pedro Ciracio is not allowed anywhere near the shot put, javelin or discus)

Game 32

Twins 15 - Red Sox 8

It was a thrilling trip to Boston, particularly for Aaron Hicks who made his Fenway Park debut. But just as Aaron was scared of "The Grimm" during the previous home stand, there was the awfully intimidating Green Monster out there in Left field. (I blame Hitting Coach Tom Brunansky's scary bedtime stories)

Fortunately there is one man who will always rescue our nation's children and worried rookies. He who personifies goodness and light, he who banishes fear and despair to the unfathomable void of the abyss beyond the stars. Yes our great and powerful chairman looked into the depths of the monster's eyes and slated the beast with his mighty bat of justice and truth (and also with the help of our mighty line-up which draws strength from the mere presence of his sideburns).

Rest easy young Hicks-y, for wherever our mighty Chairman resides no monster dares to tread.

Twins 33

Twins 5 - Red Sox 3

It's easy to make fun of rookies, they're young, they don't have a clearly defined personality. But one guy seems determined to stop me from making fun of him. That man? Oswaldo Arcia: the Blizzard of Oz!

How did our Blizzard Wizard triumph during his debut series at Fenway? By clobbering balls all over the yard. There are also unconfirmed reports of him shouting "Depulso!" to use a banishing charm on the two run shot that gave us a series victory over the "mighty" bean-towners. We here at Peanuts From Heaven will always encourage magic as a solution to life's problems...keep it up Oswaldo, keep it up.

Game 34

Orioles 9 - Twins 6

After all the triumphs in Boston, the Twins returned home to face another AL East team, and picked up right where they left off, battering an opposing pitcher just because they could.

But with all this natural awesomeness we neglected to discuss one important facet of the team: relief pitching. After-all, hitting is half the game, and really easy to romanticize; starting pitching talent is new and relatively amazing to Twins fans used to mind-numbingly bad starts; relief pitching...well...it's just part of the game, like the designated hitter and drunk guys.

Too much time feeling ignored and unloved can wear on you, and so [I imagine with absolutely zero proof] there was a discussion in the Twins pen between Josh Roenicke and Anthony Swarzak.

Roenicke: "Can you believe the blogosphere's ignoring use Anthony?"

Swarzak: "Swarzak!"

Roenicke: "I've gone more than an inning every game since April 4th! And you've only given up 3 walks all year!!"

Swarzak: "Swarzak!"

Roenicke: "Exactly! What's a guy got to do to earn a little gentle ribbing, a little joke that I sound like I should be a hockey player, or that I grew a soul patch because I was worried about whether or not I'd go to heaven"

Swarzak: "Swarzak!"

Roenicke: "Don't rub it in man...I know...I'll blow up randomly and then people will have to write about me...you in?"

Swarzak: [Cough...cough] "Sorry, I've had that cough of years now...yeah, sure let's do this.

So that happened, and we gave up the lead.

Game 35

Twins 8 - Orioles 5

It's funny but true...Vance Worley, arguably the most promising pitching acquisition the Twins made in the offseason, had gone winless since August of the previous year. Hmm, actually that's not so much funny as sad.

We got you Vanimal, we got you

This was most troubling for the heart of the Twins order, Joe Mauer and Justin Morneau. After all this was their very own Vanimal, and both were big fans. After all Doctor Teeth and the Electric Mayhem was a genuinely popular band in Canada, and Baby Vanimal (from the Muppet Babies) was a favorite of Baby Jesus)

Thus it was that the Twins' biggest boppers came to the rescue of another poor performance by the vanimal, cranking out six hits, and quite a bit of head banging in response to the Vanimal's demand that he needed more runs.

Game 36

Orioles 6 - Twins 0

For Mother's Day, Scott Diamond's mom asked for just one thing: "play nice with the other boys Scotty!"*

We applaud Mama Diamond for raising a fine upstanding athletic boy, and we're all for sportsmanship, but clearly this instruction ran contrary to pitching coach Rick Anderson's "NO MISSING THE PLATE! NO MERCY!!" instruction. In the end, the Orioles kind of owned Scott Diamond and the Twins lost the game, but it's kind of nice that Scott Diamond listened to his mom (but lets just save that for mother's day)

*Note, I can't decide if this excuse is any less absurd than the "Mother's day game ball is slightly different" Twins writers actually used

Game 37

Twins 10 - White Sox 3

A little more than a week ago, ESPN noted that Adam Dunn (the White Sox Designated Hitter) had the  2nd lowest batting average in the American League (thereby questioning the whole "hitter" part of the title "Designated Hitter"). The lowest? Twins Centerfielder Aaron Hicks.

As a result this series with the White Sox felt seriously like a good ol' fashioned show down between Hicks and Dunn to prove who was marginally less bad than the other. Sure we could crunch the stats of who really won, but why not review it like the three rounds of your typical old school brawler video games.

The first round went decidedly to Aaron Hicks who seemingly owned every aspect of Adam Dunn's game. Delivering a punishing Centerfield Bomb attack on his face, pulling an amazing reversal on Dunn's own Dinger Assault, and then delivering his signature finishing move the "oh-my-god-you-can-get-more-than-one-hit-in-a-game-it-might-as-well-be another-home-run".

Game 38

Lets watch it again...and again...

White Sox 4 - Twins 2

In order to get back at Aaron Hicks decisive first round KO Adam Dunn resorted to the defense of all desperate video gamers: Mashing buttons on the controller indiscriminately hoping that things turn out okay. 

Sadly it worked, geting a cheesy, bottom-of-the-health-bar, lucky shot victory (what with the home run to Hicks' o-fer.)

Game 39

White Sox 9 - Twins 5

Before the last round of the fight [or game of the series if you prefer], Aaron Hicks pressed pause to go to the bathroom and get a Dr. Pepper.

Then Adam Dunn unpaused it, demolishing a blithely bopping on his heels Aaron Hicks with a pair of Dinger Assaults, as if that somehow proved that he was a better gamer than Hicks. When Hicks came back, Dunn stood up muttered something about "really gotta get home, my parents and lawn mowing and indiscriminate mumbling" grabbed a full bag of Doritos and a Dr. Pepper and took off.

So congrats Adam Dunn, you won this round...but Aaron Hicks will be back. Oh yes, he will be back.

Mr. Peanut for the last two weeks: Oswaldo Arcia (if only to stop festooning Joe Mauer with these trophies)

Nutty Buddy for the last two weeks: Pedro Hernandez/Casey Fien (they haven't been bad, but they sure haven't helped much)

A matter of taste

I understand that Stinky has taken some guff for comments we made about the inappropriate behavior of announcers Ken Harrelson and Steve Stone. Since these inappropriate behaviors have not abated, I will now take my opportunity to chime in.

I will not blaspheme their parentage or personalities, I'm sure that both are very kind gentlemen who tousle the hair of small children, appreciate sad puppy dog eyes and help little old ladies load groceries into cars. But they are now officially my least favorite announcers (outside of Fox).

I'm not saying this out of personal rancor or animosity (as I do with the nattering nabob, nincompoops like Joe Buck and Tim McCarver), I'm saying this based purely on the two announcer's utter lack for decorum or variable behavior. I understand that if you follow a team for every game over the course of a season (or twelve) that you will have a strong personal allegiance to that squad HOWEVER, this does not give you license to behave like an utter knob when another team comes to town.

The Us. V.s. Them Mentality, the nitpicking, the whining, the complaining--these are signs of a small minded desire to belittle, badger and bully another squad. This is Yankee announcer behavior, this is Mets announcer behavior, this is not solid Midwesterner behavior. I'm stuck here in Ohio, watching and listening a variety of other broadcasts and nowhere have I encountered this personal vitriol. The Kansas City Royals announcers are down right chummy. The Blue Jays announcers relatively nonplussed but occasionally complimentary, Rangers announcers--like the Rangers themselves--totally nondescript.

Why then, White Sox, must you have two men who choose to remain utterly oblivious to Jason Kubel's name and existence (one of the most potent forces on an offense that's beaten them 2/3rds of the year), totally bumfuzzled by Carlos Gomez's defense (did it ever strike you that he might be good?), or completely incompetent at the pronunciation of Jose Mijares' name (Seriously? Me-har-ess, Mientkiewitcz I can understand, Mijares? That's a walk in the park!). {To be fair though, they love Delmon Young, no idea why, they just LOVE Delmon Young.}

To make matters worse I just had to listen to five minutes worth of whining over a bad strike call in the 9th inning. I understand that its frustrating to have a bad call go against you that late in a game, I certainly appreciated Dick and Bert sticking up for our side on that craptasm of poor Umpirery in Oakland. But to cover one bad pitch like it was responsible for the down fall of civilization (it ran the count to 1-2, and AJ swung at an even worse pitch for strike three--how was that Joe's fault?)--that's just dumb.

Finally, I want to say this--in three games I figured out Hawk Harrelson's mannerisms and calls, his home run chant: "Stretch! [Pause] You can put it on the board!", his strike out call: "he gone", and his game ending call: "Once this (comes down/gets to first) the game will be over." I can see the claim that such familiarity is charming, nearly comforting to regular fans of the White Sox--but I almost have to wonder, can't you be a trifle inventive? He seemed to wait for an excuse to say these catch phrases rather than weigh in with anything interesting. For every: "Touch 'em all," John Gordon utters he also spews forth intriguing stats and reminisces about by gone fishing buddies. Heck, Vin Sculley practically invented half the baseball lexicon and he still makes stuff up--he paints a picture, makes you feel like a part of the game--in three games I got the sense that Hawk Harrelson preferred to be the center of the show.

So just to sum up, I understand if these guys are your cup of tea, I understand if you love them with all your heart and mind and soul--but these announcers are anathema to making baseball universally accessible. There' s none of Vin Sculley's charm or Ernie Harwell's passion or Bert Blyleven's child-like glee, it's selfish, self-centered, egotistical, pomposity.

Fittingly--we've punished this poor announcing with a sweep in Chicago, so Pbbbt on you Chicago announcers. Pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt!

Hey A$$holes

Dear Steve Stone and Ken Harrelson,

I am in no mood for your shenanigans.

I am up to my ears in business school midterms. I've started talking to my textbooks and dreaming about Barriers to Mobility and the Statement of Cash Flows. In addition, my neighbors have for some reason decided to play Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries" super loud at 10pm on a Monday. No idea why.

It isn't pretty.

In my weak mental state, I am even less inclined to tolerate your complete and utter idiocy. I would like to hereby list my grievances against you:

1) You called the Metrodome "The Twinkie Dome." Ooooh. I'm so hurt. I think I'll go cry in a corner now. Jackass.

2) You picked the South to win the Civil War. I wish I'd made that up, but sadly it is a direct quote. This either means that a) you support slavery, b) you're really damn old, or c) you're so completely stupid that you don't realize the Civil War ended a LONG-ASS TIME AGO. Or all of the above.

3) You can't pronounce Kubel or Cuddyer.
Really? I mean....REALLY??? We're only in the same division as you. We've only played you about eight thousand times this season alone. Oh but wait - maybe if we pretend our opponents are irrelevant by mispronouncing their names, they'll realize how inconsequential they are and stop playing well. And then go cry in a corner (see (1)).

4) You called us "The Bad Guys." Are you kidding me? The ONLY team deserving of that title are they who shall not be named (Yankpires). And...really? The Twins??? I mean just look at this guy:

And this guy:

And, well.... :


We make people's hearts melt from too much cuteness. We are not the bad guys.

5) "Nobody has beaten us," you say. "We have beaten ourselves."
As much as I admire your internal locus of control, as you restrain yourself from blaming others for your failure, I have a feeling that your real intent is to insult every other team in the division.


So, Jim Harrelson and Steve Stone, what profound lessons of life can you glean from this small spewing of my sad, jumbled mind?

You went all grade-school playground on our asses. You made fun of our metrodome. You stumbled over "Um..Kubbble and Cuddwagzistein?" like you don't even know who these guys are, in an attempt to destroy our self esteem. You called us meanies. AND WE'RE STILL WINNING.

neener neener neener.

and now back to the high road.

Peace out.

Know Thine Enemy '09: The Chicago White Sox

Shocking--I know, but I have some how NOT written an enemies post about the Chicago White Sox this year, and given the tumultuous pleas from you loyal readers I must needs write this, even if we only have two more games at the dome against the pale hosers of the Windy City.

Reasons we should bust a cap in Chicago's collective asses as our breath rises through the cold Minnesota winter and the warm smokey steel of our glocks burns through our mittens

1. It's what we do: There are only a few things that seem to happen every year. Gardy always goes ballistic in Kansas City. We can never do anything in New York City. Joe Mauer's side burns offer an effective source of warmth to needy Twins Cities families. AND The White Sox cannot win when they come to the dome (of course, we can rarely win when we go to Chicago--but I digress). We drive them utterly insane, we get all the breaks and they are left shaking their whiney little heads in dismay. Hooray. *33 Loathing Points*
2. Last year: As awesome as it is to win against the White Sox here, it was painful to not win against them in last year's one game playoff. It was even more painful to see them get swept by the Rays in the first round...I mean, c'mon! We could have done that!! It was a close game that we should have won and might have won if we'd played in Minnesota, it all felt vaguely unfair, and so, when they suffered defeat it was bitter-sweet--like baker's chocolate--only not when it's baked. *42 Loathing Points*
3. It's what we need to do: We've only got so many games left, and while both Stinky and I are quite sure that any trip to the post season would be short-lived, it would be nice to stick it in the faces of all those big market, big budget teams (I'm looking in your directions South Siders/MoTowners.) So it's victories we need, and what better victories to get than victories over our rival White Sox. *29 Loathing Points*
4. It'll make Chris Clark vaguely upset: If there is one White Sox fan whose existence we are actually dependent upon it is Christophe Clark. (I did not misspell that, his name is Cristophe--it's Swiss...punk.) He studied with us, laughs with us, jokes with us, has a link on his browser that titles this very site as his "favorite blog". He is, in short, our homie. So he ought to feel pain. *1 Loathing Point*

Reasons we should polite introduce a cap into the buttockal regions of the White Sox through genial conversation and perhaps some sort of tea party.

1. It's not nice to be mean to your friends: fine, Fine, FINE, Christophe! We won't make you feel (too much) pain *-1 Loathing Point*
2. Ozzie: Mr. Guillen is our biggest fan, and our greatest rival. He loves the Twins, thinks we play baseball the right way, calls his players losers and wishes he could have more players like the Twins have. He's also in the middle of managing a collapsing team to a less than cool finish--which means his job may be in jeopardy, which means he might be available to be hired in the off-season, which means, perhaps, the greatest buddy sitcom of ALL TIME!!!!! We shall call it "Ozzie and the Gnome" and it will be the compelling story of two rival baseball managers, trying to coexist in THE SAME DUGOUT!!! Tune in for the laughs, the cheers, the tears, the obscenity laced tirades as Ozzie and the Gnome strike out on an adventure as big as Major League Baseball, and as Epic as your imagination! OZZIE AND THE GNOME: Coming this fall to FOX!!.........oh, god, I'm sorry, so, should this make them more or less of an enemy? It's kind of a tossup, but I'll throw it in here with a scant: *-1 Loathing Point*
3. Mr. President: If you love America, you'll love the president's baseball team.....Okay, not really...but he somehow makes them less offensive than George W. made the Rangers, don't ask me how...*-4 Loathing Points*

Final Loathe-O-Meter Rating: 99 Loathing Points

(+8 From Last Year)

Punishment: Being strapped to a chair and forced to listen to my feeble attempts to write the theme song for "Ozzie and the Gnome"

All-Star Update 2009!--Part 2

Observations in the first three innings

*Rarely do we feel bad for a Yankee--but stinks to be Jeter when you get hit like that
*Not the best hit for Mauer--but we'll take it (helped that he was running hard)
*Pujols made a mistake?--Are pigs flying?
*Tim McCarver does not know what an I-Beam is, I may rethink my decision to hire Idiot Play-By-Play Announcer Construction Company.
*This just in Roy Halladay WILL BE TRADED
*Stinky likes the way Ichiro twirling his bat, he looks like he's preparing for a Katana fight.
*Barack Obama just took a dig at the Nationals, making him the highest ranking trash talker EVER
*Additionally, Barack Obama is a better sports commentator than Joe Buck. Not that this is a difficult accomplishment. I'm just saying.
*This just in Roy Halladay WILL BE EATEN BY TIGERS
*Wait, once Obama threw a first pitch for the White Sox they didn't lose for the rest of the year?--It's Obama's fault they won a championship?
*Ryan Franklin's goatee makes him look like Mr. Tumnus.
*This just in Roy Halladay WILL BE SENT TO PURGATORY WHERE DANTE AND VIRGIL WILL LAUGH AT HIS LIFE IN TORONTO

More after the 6th

Weekend Recap

We at Peanuts from Heaven do realize that we are creating a rather nasty habit of failing to blog during the weekend. But, given that during a glorious Minnesota summer we would much rather be listening to the game on a radio whilst basking in the sun near a crystal clear lake, we hope that you are like us and not feverishly checking for recaps every day.

This series was important, because, as if it wasn't bad enough that we had just faced the organization that must not be named, we now had to face the Dark Forces from Chicago led by the evil Sorcerer Ozzie Guilluman. How would Gardydalf and his fellowship of the bat respond? How much dorkier could we become?

Answer: This much

In the end the series was better than we expected, we were in every game, we got to attend one, we nearly won the second and today we welcomed back a devastatingly secret weapon.

After Gardydalf the White-haired endured the oh-so-narrow-defeat last night, there was only one solution, he ventured deep into the bowels of the Metrodome, to unleash a magic that can destroy everything in its path. A swirling dervish of magic.

There was fear and trepidation throughout the dugout. "Gardydalf," asked Bilbo Punto, "why must we unleash the beast?"

"Yes," said Mauer the Sideburn-ed, "I have sideburns, I am powerful, You do not need to unleash that ferocious magic. I offer you my bat."

"And my glove, " said Crede the Greedy

"And my pitching," said Scott the UnNicknamed

"And my...wait...is bat already taken?" inquired Justin the Maple Leafed.

"You are brave men," said Gardydalf, "and true-men all. But after we the devestating devouring from Bobby "Caveman" Jenks last night, we must use every weapon we have to defeat the cunning Pale Hosers.

"I don't like it any more than you do...but what must be done...must be done..." And so with solemnity of purpose, and downcast eyes. Gardydalf did open the chest of magic, which swirled and elevated an otherwise mildly amusing centerfielder and turned him into

MOJO GOGO!

The rest--was easy. So you are our hero Mojo Gogo, you and your running, leaping, home run swatting ways. Happy all star break...don't be afraid to remain magical after the vacation.

THOOOOO-MEEEEE!!!!

Once again, my bad.

I was so pumped after the big fat victory on Friday night, that I assumed it went without saying that the White Sox were our enemies. But clearly, our offense seemed to feel bad for the pitchers on Saturday and Sunday and therefore flailed about like muskies on dry land.

It was nice for Delmon to supract his first home run of the year...but we need more, much more if we're going to win. Therefore I'll be back later today with an enemies blog to remind our boys in red and blue about the horrors of the Toronto Blue Jays.

So we know what we need to win. More hits. More Enemies posts. And much, much, much less Jim "The Smoke Monster" Thome.

He can kick Ben Linus' butt all he wants...but not ours.

If we don't study history, we are doomed to repeat it

Well, Chicago, you forgot. Good job. As I'm sure you are aware, Illinois governer Rod Blagojevich is being generally ridiculed and possibly asked to resign because he tried to sell Barack Obama's soon-to-be-vacant senate seat. This added to the audacity of having the last name "Blagojevich", which is impossible to spell and sounds like a frog with leprosy, was just too much for the Prairie state to handle.

All I can say is, the (questionably) good citizens of the city of Chicago should have seen this coming a long time ago. This isn't the first time someone in Illinois has been tempted by the golden idol (aka money). Need I remind you that the GREATEST SCAM of ALL TIME, the one that nearly ruined America, the world, and possibly even the galaxy forever, was perpetrated by none other than the Chicago White Sox? Yes friends. I refer you to the 1919 World Series, aka the Black Sox Scandal.

Much as Blagoaisndflaksdhgch was thinking when he said "Gee, I could use some extra cash. Maybe I should do something highly illegal and sell a senate seat to the highest bidder," so were Sleepy Bill Burns and Billy Mahrag thinking when they said "Gee we could use some extra cash because our owner is a cheap asshole. Maybe we should do something illegal and throw the series so we can get paid off by gamblers!" Smart idea...not.

So congratulations, Rod Backenfusswitch. You have now joined the illustrious ranks of the worst people of all time - the 1919 Chicago White/Black Sox. Let this be a lesson to all Chicago-ans (Chiago-ites? Chicago-ese?) - karma is a bitch.

In a related story, C.C. Sabathia's contract with Satan in which he signed over three years of his life, his soul, and his firstborn child into slavery, is worth approximately 3 times as much as the Twins entire salary budget. So congratulations also to the Minnesota Twins, paragons of decency and honor, who when saddled with low salaries, just continue to play awesome baseball. Cheers :)