Well...now it's a two game series

Thank merciful Jebus that I don't have to writhe in agony much longer.

Let me drop this visual metaphor on you:

The dude on the left represents me trying to watch the game and write Research methods notes in a library, while simultaneously watching the Twins fall behind, come back, screw up some great opportunities, come back, nearly blow it, and then win. Quoth the dude on the left: "it gets me every time."

The guy on the right represents all the peoples of Bowling Green, Ohio who couldn't care two shakes of a lamb's whiskers what happens.

The night was equally tense yet tantalizing, getting updates from a fellow student who had never flown her Twins flag till last night, but is going to the game tonight and is therefore one of my new favorite people ever. Then walking home with my parents and then Stinky giving me play-by-play as we kept it close (no matter what SportsCenter says about Justin Verlander's dominance--a one run win, is keeping it close).

Double headers are a pain, I'm impressed we kept them both close, and ecstatic that we won one, but that leaves two games to pretty much decide whether a) we are tied going into the last weekend, b) we are still two games back going into the last weekend, c) we are eliminated from contention and begin a mental preparation for four more months of Brett Favre saturation...le sigh.

I can dream, I can imagine great things, and a level playing field, but this is a good team we're playing, and we're playing in their house. I'm not giving up on the Twins, and even if we lose, I'll proudly watch the close of the dome, but if the worst case scenario happens, I'll be glad to shake the hands of Tigers fans and say: "In the name of all that is good and decent and midwestern, please beat the Yankees."

(And now that I've mentally adjusted myself, just watch as I go all spazzy again tonight)

P.s. ESPN is giving us and our Bedimpled Badass some love win or lose and apparently the Pohlads and Bill Smith managed to woo someone fairly awesome*.

*Note: Awesomeness of this guy is contingent on him actually being sixteen and not 30 years old with scurvy.

A foretaste of the feast to come

So...I went to the game last night, unfortunately the Twins did not make it out on to the field.

Instead I was treated to rainy skies, cold wind and distant, distant seats. All of this made me ask myself: "Why aren't we building a retractable roof again?" (And do I really need to pay 16 bucks to sit in the Skyline section?)

There were some nice moments: desperately trying to convince Shanshan, a Chinese Masters student, that baseball actually is fun, when you can watch it being played, having my colleague Leslie (a die-hard Angels fan) promise to root for the Twins--just to be ornery, sharing sunflower seeds with Conor--my colleague/Tigers fan. AND, there were also two totally kickass moments.

1) As the Tigers honored their 1984 World Champions, little old Sparky Anderson, great manager/adorable old man took the mike, and like a hip-hop god proudly proclaimed: "THIS CITY WILL BE BACK AGAIN!!!!" [Roar] "And this young fella, [points to Jim Leyland] is bringing it back!!!" [Roar] "He's a great guy, and in the other dugout, what a guy, folks I've got to tell you, you won't find two better men walking onto a baseball field than Ron and Jim!!" [Awkward applause]...apparently Tigers fans don't like Gardy, but apparently their beloved Sparky Anderson thinks he's a badass--Sparky Anderson is correct, and therefore, my new favorite little old man of all time!

2) I sat at the end of our row, closest to rival fans, which, in this case, was a familial horde and one little boy--the little boy kept looking at me as if I was contagious, scared little eyes, clutching his stuffed tiger in fear. As I moved aside for him to put on his coat, I was kind, and then asked him a question in my best: "Kindly-Teacher" voice.

"How much can I clap for my team if we do something good? Can I clap 5 times? 3 times? Just once? This is your home stadium, so I'll let you tell me."

"NEVER!" shouted the mother and aunts or neighbors or crazy ladies around us "NEVER CHEER! NEVER SAY ANYTHING!!" The Kid, I swear, said: "you can clap as many times as you want, they are your team..." What a cool kid, eh? Somebody taught him manners and sharing and politeness...these kids today are pretty darn cool as far as I'm concerned.

So it was a washout, so it was disappointing, so I must now try and sneakily watch whilst typing up 5 chapters of Research methods notes...at least we learned that Detroit has some totally awesome people, and will make us Midwesterns proud whoever wins.

I just still want it to be us.

Deep Breaths...

First, a bit of a news flash--I, Scruffy, will be in attendance tonight in Detroit Rock City despite having a 6 page paper due tomorrow. Perhaps my judgement is off a skosh, you say? Perhaps...but such is the effect of a series to decide our season.

In an effort to maintain sanity prior to this big series, we here at Peanuts from Heaven encourage everyone to remember the secret of life: KEEP BREATHING! Seriously, if you don't breathe for an extended period of time, your chances of living diminish severely.

To help you all, here's a pre-series haiku for you:

However it goes,

Awesomeness needs no reward

The journey is all.

You may now return to freaking out.

You can always

SAVE BIG MONEY AT DENARD'S!!!

Just in time for October we have a wealth of specials on sale at Denard's Super-Duper Season-Ending September-Sprint-Shootout Sales-a-Thon!!

C'mon in and sample our bargain bin of substitute first basemen! All the power of your regular first basemen but with an extra layer of rustcoat to protect against end of the season breakdown. They're made in the USA, and have the branding on the butt to prove it! Best of all the cost just the same as cute, cuddly, teddy bear of a right fielder!

Retro is Nowtro with Brian "You Make Me Feel Like" Duensing Yellow Cardigans and platform shoes with aquariums in the bottom! Just in time for Halloween your kids can look like the Twins' #5 starter...heck, does your kid have a paper route? He could probably BE our #5 starter! For only $13.95!

BUT WAIT, There's more!! In honor of our founder's Super-Sweet-Special-Six-Sruns batted in: we're offering, not one, not two, not three but SIX WHOLE PEANUTS FROM HEAVEN!! (Warning, do not ingest peanuts from heaven, as they are peanuts with fuzzy angel wings hot glued on...serious choking hazard for Children under the age of 4, and frat boys under the influence of 4 beers.)

Stop on in today, because while the season might last until October, these deals won't!

This just in...

Supraction is back sucka-dawgs! Or sucka-siberian Tigers as the case may be...

Cuddy homers, Delmon homers, Delmon even finds a way to get a triple (Triple Delmon, tsk, tsk, what would Jason Kubel say?) And we're only 2 games back.

Please, please, please media, keep ignoring us--supraction works best when you least expect it.

SUPRACTION-SUCKA!!!

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!

Hold on to your proverbial horses

This is not to promote lax grips on literal horses mind you, this is just to remind us one and all that as awesome as we are currently playing we still have a long uphill climb to reenter the post-season, if we do it at all.

Much must be done, balls must be thrown, hit and caught--or not caught (when we hit them {teeehee, point and laugh at Carlos Quentin}). We must leave Chicago, venture to the surprisingly dangerous Kansas City (just ask the Tigers about them), and then head on into Detroit for what seems to be the most important thing in the history of important things (knocking invention of fire down to number two).

The optimist in me says we can cruise over everyone, the cautious optimist in me says that we can win enough to get the job done, the pessimist in me says: "DEATH! EVERYTHING IS DEATH!!!!" Which is why, perhaps realism is a good attitude: "It will be hard, we will do our best, and the chips will fall where they may."

Winning is great, but--in the spirit of low expectations: we here at PFH, Inc. fervently anticipate that all that was once good will turn foul...we will not only lose, but Bud Selig will decide to strip us from other the wins until we have a worse record than the Milwaukee Brewers. Additionally, steak will now taste like ashes, wine will taste like warm, flat Fresca, and the sun will now be called: Yankee Stadium Solaris.

If one or any of these things does not happen, I'll be very happy--but remember, please keep your horses on a leash--it will keep your dogs in line.