A Thanksgiving Hors D'ouvre: A Peanuty Blueprint

'Tis the season both for overeating and overanalyzing potential Twins transactions. While most people in Twins Territory will be fixated on football in the next 72 hours, I thought, on the off chance that someone sneaks a peak at this space, that I should make it look presentable. So, here's a new blog on how best to address the biggest issue the local nine faces this year.

Available at Deviant Art

Most of the truly accomplished and respected Twins' bloggers have presented their blueprints for general consumption. The prognosticated quickly, and now, three weeks later, I'm doing the same. But, I do have something to offer which my fellow bloggers do not: a plan that balances a quest for wins with an equally important search: a search for a team fans might once again find interesting!

No offense, I know we like to talk about how victories equal ticket sales, but ticket sales also equal payroll and payroll often equals victories...so I thought approaching the problem from a new direction might prove interesting to some (or...okay...just me). Here now, my blueprint for the Twins 2013 offseason

Step 1: Trade Justin Morneau, Denard Span and Alex Burnett to the Pittsburgh Pirates for Niel Walker, Kyle McPherson and Alen Hanson--sign Walker to a four year, $8 Million contract extension

Sargeant Gardy's Lonely
Hits Club Band in hapier times

Start with the hardest thing I've ever suggested. I love Justin and I love Denard. I've invested considerable hours turning them into ninjas and mounties and an off brand version of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band; but they are pricy, expendable and in need of a chance to win now rather than later.

After being baseball's best story through June in 2011, and their best story through July in 2012, the Pirates need to win now too. Combining Denard's lead off skills with Justin's big bat should ease the burden on Andrew McCutchen and make it ease the blow of giving up a young, promising second baseman in Walker who helps solve our middle infield problem.

As an added bonus, McPherson's resume resembles the best prospect traded for players like Justin Morneau in the past (Jason Schmidt) and High A ball prospect Alen Hanson may set up a superb left side of the infield with Miguel Sano (he outranks all current Twins SS prospects).

While many fans may be turned off by the loss of two more long time Twins players and the addition of several new, unproven guys, I believe the next moves make up for that.

Step 2: Sign Brandon McCarthy to a three year, $51 million dollar contract (including a mandated Twitter clause) and Francisco Liriano to a one year $5 million/5 million sticks of gum contract (total: 5.3 m)

The man likes gum...

Scared as many might be by the return of Francisco Liriano, there should be comfort in the fact that we know what works for Frankie. Given his Target Field success last year (also in a contract year, and with a magical stash of gum), things should be sunshiney (plus we can always trade him again...provided we pay for the gum).

Meanwhile McCarthy makes a welcome addition of a solid #2 pitcher ahead of Scott Diamond and one who will be under contract for a considerable length of time (more than might have been suggested before the free agent bucks started flying, but hey we'll take what we can get). The added bonus is that even if concussion issues prevent him from being the player he seemed like he could be in the middle of the season, his social media skillz should help younger Twins players know what to do in order to avoid being too Danny Valencia-ish when they make the bigs. Even if some ignore him, the burgeoning hipster market will be inexorably drawn to each of McCarthy's starts.

Step 3: Sign Tony Robbins* to be personal life coach to Liam Hendricks, Luis Perdomo  and Brian Dozier (perhaps Kyle Gibson, Anthony Slama and Joe Benson)--1 year $1.8 Million dollars.

Problem: The Twins have a lot of players who are excellent in AAA and lousy in the majors.
Solution 1: FIRE THEM ALL AND BRING IN FREE AGENTS!
Solution 2: Teach them to unleash the power within! (and save money!)

YOU CAN THROW STRIKES!

This bit of creative problem solving tries a true moneyball approach to the game. Rather than valuing what our competition values (i.e. talent) we can value something else: mentoring and holistic advice! Thus comes Tony Robbins to convince Messers Hendricks Perdomo et al that they don't need to learn how to master the strike zone, because they already have mastered it! (IN THEIR MINDS!!)

*Note: There is a strict: NO FIRE WALK clause in Mr. Robbins' contract

Grady Sizemore:
You're welcome ladies.

Step 4: Sign Grady Sizemore to play RF (1 year $2.5 million).

As I understand it, many of the female fans of the Minnesota region appreciate it when the team not only plays well, but is also mildly attractive. Without Justin Morneau and the charming accent of Luke Hughes, Sizemore will help to increase the HQ (Handosmeness Quotient) of the team.

I'm open to other solutions here, but the plastic surgery needed to make Anthony Swarzak look like Ryan Gosling is a little steep, and creating Fox Sports North Dudes doesn't solve the outfield problem. So, Sizemore might just be a stop gap until Oswaldo Arcia or Aaron Hicks is ready to go. But until then we can all bask in the awkwardness of this story from the Onion.)

Step 5: Decline arbitration for Drew Butera, promote Chris Hermann and sign Jimmy "Mouth of the South" Hart for $150 thousand.

Now that Matt Capps (aka "Minnesota Fats Jr." aka "Matt Crapps Shoot" aka "Not Him, Please, Dear God Not Him!") has left the team, it's time to address that other outstanding source of fan vitriol--the boondoggle behind the plate.

Rather than let Drew Butera get a raise in arbitration (thus exploding the cerebral cortexes of many fans) I suggest that we let him go, promote minor leaguer Chris Hermann and put the money we save (approximately 150 k) to someone who can radically alter the perception of our catching corps.

Windbreaker not needed

Enter: Jimmy Hart. Those of us who wasted savored our youthful innocence by watching professional wrestling, know that managers in wrestling are even more irrelevant than baseball managers. But! They do provide much needed cache for those they align themselves with. So, if we bring in Jimmy Hart it goes from being "Mauer or Doumit with Hermann  for emergencies"to being "The Twin Cities Triumverate" with finishing moves like "Ryan Sauve's Opposite Field Smash!"or "Hermann's Munster Arm!" or "Chairman Mauer's Great Plate Discipline Forward..." (obviously I'm not as good at this as professional wrestling people are.

And who knows what kind of drama may unfold. Whose to say that Doumit and Mauer don't turn on each other mid-season on a miscommunicated tag? Or that Herman doesn't take a folding chair to create a sudden case of "bilateral leg weakness"? It will be pure sports entertainment...only with an actual sport.

Line up:
CF-Revere-$500k
2B-Walker-$2 M
C-Mauer-$23 M
LF-Willingham-$7 M
DH-Doumit-$3.5 M
1B-Parmelee-$500k
3B-Plouffe-$500k
RF-Sizemore-$2.5 M
SS-Florimon-$500k
Subtotal $40 M
Bench
C-Hermann-$500k
IF-Dozier-$500k
IF-Carroll-$3.75 M
OF-Mastroianni-$500k
Subtotal: $5.25 M
Rotation
#1-Liriano-$5.3 M
#2-McCarthy-$17M
#3-Diamond-$500k
#4-McPherson-$500k
#5-Hendricks-$500k
Subtotal--$ 23.8 M
Bullpen
LHP-Robertson $500k
LHP-Duensing $1.5 M
RHP-Slama $500k
RHP-Perdomo $500k
RHP-Swarzak $500k
SU-Burton $2M
CL-Perkins $2.5 M
Subtotal-- $8 M
Other
Nick Blackburn--$5.5 M
Jimmy Hart--$150k
Tony Robbins $1.8 M
Subtotal--$7.45 M

TOTAL PAYROLL: $82.05 M 

From this position we could easily add payroll as needed if we do well, or swap out others (Sizemore, Liriano, Carroll, Willingham, Doumit) if we don't. Most importantly we've got some marketable commodities here to keep the turnstiles turning and keep the fans interested (if not completely excited) and establish Walker and McCarthy as building blocks back to consistent contention in the years ahead.

Teachable Moments 2012: Money Will Change Your Life

The playoffs are in high gear, but those who cling to hope for the underdogs might be forgiven for tuning out early this year. The league championship series featured the past three champions (Cardinals, Giants and Yankees) and a preseason favorite (the Detroit Tigers). Gone are the plucky upstarts: the Nationals, the A's, the O's, the Reds. In short all the teams who haven't sniffed the World Series in over 20 years, and in their place, much more of the same.

Baseball's competitive balance is still a little better than you might think, but that's not the point of my writing. My point is that there's a certain something missing from this years playoffs; that plucky scrapper mentality that many mid-market fans cling to as superpowers get richer each year.

Once upon a time, in the good ol' days of five years ago, the Twins were one of those scrappy franchises. Mixing and matching spare parts and raw newcomers to find startling success; while we often wished ol' Carl Pohlad would loosen his purse strings a little more often, we now know that big spending won't solve our problems.

After two years of 90+ losses and nearly $200 million dollars in payroll, frustration is mounting. At the center of all of this frustration isn't the ownership (no longer Carl, just his sons), or the management (penny-pinching Terry Ryan in his 2nd non-consecutive turn as GM), the frustration falls squarely on Joseph P. Mauer. The 23 Million Dollar Man.

We all know the story. Mauer was the scion, the natural, the local kid who was destined to return the Twins to greatness. So, we made sure to give him a contract that would keep him in town for a solid decade. We rejoiced when he signed, and while the price-tag was eye-popping, if anyone was worth it, it was our boy Joe.

Of course, we all know the rest of the story too. In the three years since Mauer signed the uber-deal, his production has vacillated from solid to injury-riddled to elite-catcher level again. At the same time, Mauer has remained the stoic, humble, home-grown star who endeared himself to Twins fans as Minnesota's own throw-back to the crew-cut, mashed-potato-munching stars of yester-year. He's got a house in Florida, but another up north, with a St. Paul-bred wife and a consistent relationship with his St. Paul loving family.

He plays the same. He acts the same. He is the same. Clearly, money did not change Joe Mauer.

And clearly it did change us.

Somewhere along the way, the promise and the paeans to Joe Mauer morphed into demands. Our affection didn't come easily anymore, he wasn't the adorable kid playing stickball on Summit Avenue, he was "the franchise," and he had better play like it! He wasn't a local boy made good, he was a local boy made off with our hard-earned money. He wasn't a great player, he was a shampoo-hawking, prima-donna who let "leg-weakness" get in the way of the game.

Before, we had loved Joe Mauer simply and purely because he was our own and he was awesome. Suddenly, we begrudged Joe Mauer some undefinable something simply and purely because he was our own and he was only "pretty good"...and, oh yeah, he was getting paid a large sum of money (much of which came from our own tickets).

Chances are, if you find your way to this page, this blog, and my style of writing, you have a more complex view of Mauer than simply "the-golden-boy" or "the-sissy-punk". Chances are you've heard plenty of this before. Chances are I'm not saying anything that you haven't thought yourself a time or dozen.

But one thing to bear in mind, as we enter a season of acrimonious bickering over cries of "super rich one-percent-ers" and "the welfare class of entitled moochers" is just how we use these words and why. It's easy to tune out the tit-for-tat argument and snark as irrelevant or impossible, but that avoids the core of the discussion. Does Joe Mauer earn the enmity of disappointed hordes in Target Field because he doesn't perform his job, because he abuses his wealth and privilege, or because class and money affect us in ways we don't feel comfortable talking about. Is it pure jealousy, the shriveled raisin of a dream deferred, the genuine disdain for misappropriated money at a time of fiscal uncertainty?

There's no clear answer to those questions, and that's as it should be. The teachable moments of our year in fandom aren't just moments where a lesson is learned and we move on with life. Teachable moments are the somethings, the anythings, that encourage us to look at things again, to consider and reflect.

I'm a homer, and I'll always love Joe Mauer for how he hits and plays. But after this year, I also have to appreciate how he offers all kinds of teachable moments

Teachable Moments 2012: The Value of Consistent Casting

I could apologize for the delay between posts, but if you read this blog at all, you know full well why the delay is here (it starts with a "w" and ends with an "orking my a$$ off").

It's the postseason now, you all remember that right, the thing the Twins used to do every October before the current unpleasantness began? And while we're all plotting out our offseason blue prints for returning the Twins to relevancy, there are other things to think about, the kinds of things that may not result in wins or losses but do relate to the business of being a fan. Those are the kinds of things that I'm taking on as subjects of these "Teachable Moment" blogs.

There was a moment near the end of the season where my wife, my father and a colleague at my high school all said the same thing while we watched a game. Namely: "Who the hell is that guy?"

Every one of those three people are serious Twins fans, not bandwagon, casual afternoon channel surfer fans. They watch most games (either out of personal interest or because they married a die-hard), and could easily rattle off the owners of retired numbers, the holders of franchise records, and where they were for big moments (World Championships) and little ones (Kubel's cycle, Baker's near perfecto).

Yet each one of them was befuddled by something, or rather someone in the Twins uniform. Samuel DeWho? Matt CarWhat?

 Chances are if you are reading my writing, then you, like me, are still deeply interested in the Twins despite another 90 loss season. You clearly care more than most average fans, even most serious fans. Maybe even enough to distinguish Pedro Florimon from Eduardo Escobar.

But this isn't about shaking our heads at people who lose track of the Chris Hermanns and Kyle Waldrops of the franchise. It's about what it means to have those serious fans fade away from their old commitment to the team.

As far as I can figure, losing once-serious fans to an abyss of indifference is accepting that you're going to have fewer return customers to Twins Brand Family Entertainment next year leading to a dip in revenues (and by association payroll budget). I'm sure the Pohlads and the other front office people know that and are ready to compensate with more attractive group ticket packages, more food/beverage discounts and generally more ways to bring in casual fans. But as the losing becomes more and more habitual, fewer and fewer casual fans will see a (still pricey) trip to the ballpark (or to the team merchandising store) as a worthwhile expense.

Suddenly that "dip" in revenues becomes a "crater" and that return to respectability that we die-hards crave gets pushed farther and farther into the background. So, losing "once-serious" fans is a bit of a dilemma. But there is a solution.

And that's just 3 seasons
of dead people!

 As my wife pointed out, it's not the current Twins are terrible that stops her from watching, it's that she knows the team won't be back for a little while, and doesn't want to get too attached only to see one of them leave. That goes for the talented like Ben Revere, Josh Willingham, Jared Burton and Ryan Doumit (couldn't they all get traded?). And that goes for the not-so talented (witness my love for the probably doomed Luis Perdomo). For my father, loving a current Twin is like trying to adopt a pet lobster from a seafood restaurant, it makes you happy but you just know that something bad's going to happen. My wife likened it instead to the days of our courtship (when we'd mix baseball talk with Lost episodes). Sure there are some interesting new characters, but given how easy it is for the writers to kill off old characters, do you really want to get burned again?

So, while the "throw out the bums!" shouts get louder, remember that there's something to be said for consistency. There's something to be said for building around a few key parts and encouraging fans to learn to love a new face. If we subscribe to a model of constant turnover we may start slipping into oblivion as a modern day Toronto, or Pittsburgh or [shudder] Kansas City.

I know we can't (and shouldn't) keep everybody. But when in doubt, remember that glorious summer when the Twins returned to relevancy over a decade ago, when after years of turnover the Twins committed to a group of young players (who were admittedly more talented than the current bunch), and invited fans to just "Get to Know 'Em".

 Maybe it won't be next year, or even the year after, but when the time comes it will fall on the diehards to answer "Who the Hell is that" with "Miguel Sano," or "Aaron Hicks" or "Byron Buxton...you should really get to know 'em."

Teachable Moments 2012: Ragequitting

Some know this, others don't. I'm secretly a teacher at a public high school that shall remain nameless. (If only to protect myself from principals who wonder why they hired a guy who thinks that beards are sentient.)

 My job is great actually. When the baseball season starts it's a sign that the school year is rapidly winding down. As the battle for first place intensifies, I have many opportunities to watch and revel in exciting games. And by the time I get back to work I know whether or not I should assign essays early in the year, or if I should go easy on students so I can watch the games.*

 This year, with the Twins out of contention, I don't need to worry about missing critical late season games. But as one season winds down and another warms up, I've started thinking about valuable lessons from baseball for fans, and for life. Starting with the consequences of rage quitting.

 One Friday night, Stinky and I went to the game with her parents and watched as the Twins squandered an early lead as only they have been able to do this year. Liam Hendricks looked good just long enough to surprise us all when he imploded in 5th. Our solid offensive outburst seemed flukish when David Huff shut down the bats for three innings. And then Alex Burnett struggled and struggled and finally stunk fumbling a weak comebacker with the bases loaded to let in the 6th run of the game.  

Disappointing as that was, it was the fans reaction that I found noteworthy. We didn't boo. We didn't jeer. But a solid 10-20% of fans that I could see stood and left (either for beer or for good). Dispirited, dejected and otherwise done with watching the debacle on the field. It wasn't any kind of organized protest, or meaningful event, it was just a clear sign that fans were tired of wasting their time and ready to move on with life.

 The internet (which you may have heard of) might refer to this as an act of "RageQuitting, meaning simply: "To quit because you are losing, failing or just plain suck" Sure enough the Twins were losing, the players were failing to make an easy play and all season long they have seemed to just plain suck. There are many ways to ragequit, standing up and walking out of a bad game (despite your expensive tickets), clicking off the tv in disgust, avoiding most ESPN/FOX related content because you think they'll glorify the Yankees/Red Sox and denigrate "those hapless Twins" comment, posting "if-they-don't-fix-this-#%@#ing-team-I'm-done" posts in the forum section, even deleting a Twins Daily account...just because you can't take it any more.

This season has taught us all about ragequitting, as even the most ardent supporters may have at least considered the possibility once or twice. So, what happens when you do ragequit? Let's explore: The benefits of the "ragequit" are simple: you don't have to deal with the source of your frustration any more. You can move on to other things, happier things, better things.

Meanwhile the costs of the "ragequit" are less apparent: you lose credibility with fellow fans, and appear petulant in the eyes of those around you (fans and others alike) for letting a group of 25 guys in blue uniforms affect your whole emotional welfare. Most of all, should you choose to return when the team begins to succeed again you risk that most hated of labels "fair weather fan".

 Clearly, I'm not going to ragequit any time soon. Frustrated though I might be, I enjoy little parts of the game and the team too much to be put off by simple bad play. But that's not to say that you can't ragequit if you want to. You, gentle reader are an independent human being capable of free will (or a super-smart extra-terrestrial monitoring electronic blather about Earth sports for signs of intelligent life in our galaxy...in which case better luck next time). You can do what you like, throw down the remote, slam your lap top shut, call Burnett a loser and Plouffe a hack and Gardy a has been.

 But whatever you choose, understand the consequences. If you ragequit, you gain freedom, but risk social-stigma. If you don't...well...you writhe in agony when Alex Burnett boots a slow roller to the mound. The choice is yours. 

 *Note: I don't really alter assignments based on baseball standings. I'm too scrupulous for that...stupid scruples.

My Dog Writes the News

I'm officially back at work, planning and plotting all that I teach, but after a summer of goofing around with my dog (with Sports Radio/ESPN often on in the background), I felt like I could trust him to write a post summarizing baseball coverage of late. Without further ado...here's a guest post from my dog: Sidney.

Most Exciting Time of Baseball Season Irrelevant Next to Least Exciting Time of Football Season.

by, Sid MacKenzie

With the September stretch run to the playoffs set to begin, all eyes are on the football transaction column to determine exactly how the final preseason game has affected NFL rosters. A host of intriguing story lines with resurgent teams and superb players will be confined to the final five minutes of all SportsCenter programs in order to give Peyton Manning's shoelacing form the attention it so richly deserves.

A man who's not even Hines Ward

For the first time in decades, the Pittsburgh Pirates have a chance to make the playoffs behind MVP candidate Andrew McCutchen who is not Troy Polumalu or even Ben Rothlisberger and therefore not that important. Said McCutchen of his impressive year, "I'm really glad the Steelers are keeping Charlie Batch. He can be a solid back up if Rothlisberger's rotator cuff doesn't heal quite right. The Steelers should be back in business baby!"

Meanwhile in Baltimore, the Orioles stunning run towards dethroning the Yankees has turned heads away from Camden Yards and towards Insert Generic Bank Name Here Stadium. Manager Buck Showalter replied to questions of his team's staying power by saying: "Shut up! John Harbaugh is taking post-practice questions!"

As California braces for an epic month, with four teams in Los Angeles, San Francisco and Oakland all capable of making the playoffs, players and coaches alike just hope that either Randy Moss still catches the ball, Tyrelle Pryor proves the doubters wrong, or that the Jaguars move into a new downtown stadium.

A man who does not play for the Cowboys

The principal rival for the California baseball teams (a team that legend says is called the Texas Rangers) has vanished into a black hole of Cowboys fans, painting blue stars on their faces or stomaches and incessantly shouting: "HOW BOUT THEM COWBOYS!?!?"

In New York, the often insufferable New York Yankees fans have put away their pinstripes in order to more effectively obsess over the Giants and the Jets. Said one wide-eyed and giddy fan named Derek Jeter: "Ohmigod! Tim Tebow looked at me! He looked right at me!!"

A man who should probably
be throwing a football instead.

In an effort to capitalize on this absurdly popular/mind-numbingly dull part of the football season, a variety of other baseball teams have taken their own approaches to expressing their love for football. To boost ticket sales for a series against the rival Chicago White Sox (who do not play football), the Detroit Tigers (who also do not play football) drew 40,000 fans with the promise of a raffle for 2 Lions tickets. In Washington, Jayson Werth has officially changed his name to Robert Griffin III.5 and the Tampa Bay Rays have changed their team name to the Tampa Bay Buccanears (a less expensive generic football brand that may lead to a lawsuit from the NFL).

Reached for comment at his office in New York, baseball commissioner Bud Selig said, "We're just so excited that we can stop playing soon so that everyone can watch football in peace. Please, don't pay any attention to pennant races or Justin Verlander or Mike Trout, you'll simply encourage them to keep playing into October. Nobody wants that."

In other news, football will be starting soon.

Rooting for Nick and Tsuyoshi

(Apologies for the gap between posts, school is coming quickly and I'll be splitting time between writing lesson plans and writing baseball blogs...probably a little more time on lesson plans)

Poor Tsuyoshi...

Clearly things have changed in the Twins dugout of late, much to the glee of many fans (not to mention the blogging community). Nick Blackburn is gone and it will take some finagling to get him back up again, experience be damned. Gone too is every last drop of hopeful expectation around Tsuyoshi Nishioka, former Nippon League batting champ and hoped for shortstop salvation.

The clear take away here is that these two elements of the Twins system weren't working and now (later than some might like) they are being removed. Many other, wiser bloggers can delve into the statistical benefits of chucking Blackburn's starts or offering Nishioka's opportunities to another, worthier prospect.

The less apparent take away is that, even with this move, Twins fans are still frustrated. Even with two disliked players off the roster, the belief is that the move didn't happen fast enough. Forum posts on Nick Blackburn seem to assume he's personally responsible for all of the Twins pitching's miseries, as well as NBC's poor Olympic coverage and those irritating Health Care Debate advertisements. Tsuyoshi Nishioka seems to be viewed as part underachiever, part natural disaster (though its unlikely a telethon can help Twins fans at this point). Since there are no stats to explore here, that makes it just my cup of tea.

For me, Blackburn and Nishioka are more than just sacrificial lambs to the roster/blogosphere slaughter. They are men who have gone from mighty success to something resembling total disaster. Something that, people who aren't ballplayers can still relate to.


Imagine going through a rough spell at your job, and having your bosses demote you down to being the office gofer. Worse than that, you find out you only became the gofer, is because your bosses couldn't get any other company in town to hire you away from them. Nobody wants you. Everybody knows that nobody wants you. And now you have to start proving yourself all over again. It's the kind of professional debacle you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. So why are we so insistent that Blackburn and Nishioka deserve it?

Dr. Cakeburn, in better days

I won't deny that both played poorly enough to make dyed in the wool optimists like me cringe. And yet, I can't savor any part of their being culled from the big league roster. To me they are just as much the promising young talents that had me practicing Japanese phrases for "tater tot hotdish" and photoshopping diabolical baked goods into game photos to elevate their stature. For me, they are professionals confronting a question of career viability.

And as news breaks that two marginal big leaguers (Melky Cabrera and Bartolo Colon) used steroids to keep their similarly struggling careers afloat, I'm proud that neither Blackburn nor Nishioka pursued a chemical solution to their problems. I can't gloat in potential replacements or boast of "I told you so's" to Terry Ryan. I just hope that Blackburn and Nishioka find a way to either solve their problems on the field or else move on to a better life off it.Unpopular as it might be: I'm rooting for Nick and Tsuyoshi.

Back to Where It All Began

First and foremost, you may notice a dearth of postings in this area for the next week or so. We peanuts are on our way to Montana for a much needed vacation, and we'll try our best to be in the moment rather than on the computer, so the blogging slow down is inevitable.

This will be the first time that I (the male member of our salty/roasted snack bag) have been back to Montana in 7 years. My wife makes semi-annual trips to see her grandmother, uncle and relatives in Billings, while I, born and raised in the Big Sky State, have had little chance to go back with grad school and work eating up my life. I'm excited to see the prairies and the mountains, to hike the trails of Glacier and taste locally raised grass-fed beef again. But I'm also excited to go back to where my baseball fandom started. Great Falls, Montana.

I grew up about a mile from our local minor-league park: Legion Field and saw players come up at the very start of their careers in the Pioneer League. The League tours throughout Montana (Great Falls, Billings, Helena, and--at various points--Butte and Missoula) as well as other tourist hotspots (Ogden, Provo, Lethbridge, Idaho Falls, Casper, etc.).

Growing up in a small town it feels like simple is normal. You have a main street with grocery stores and fastfood, a bunch of side streets with houses on them, and if you want to go somewhere else you get on to the highway (usually only one) and go. I thought that was how it always was, but I didn't think about what it looked like to the young men who came to town to play for our local 9. (Something Omar Vizquel addresses here.)

To them, this was just the first stop on the road to something bigger. They came, they played they moved up in the world. As a kid, I didn't really get that, why should you move up? Why shouldn't the majors include a Montana team? (Hopeless naivete was part of my life even then.)

Still, I would track the doings of the players who had come through town: Pedro Martinez, Raul Mondesi, Erik Karros, and my (unlikely) favorite: Jose Offerman. Our local stations showed no "games of the week," and cable was a luxury item in Montana, so I made do by reading box scores in the local paper, charting the standings, dreaming up the plays I could only imagine (without the help of SportsCenter).

But while reading and dreaming was fun, the most fun I had was just going to games. The spur of the moment idea from my parents; stopping off at a rundown IGA grocery store between our house and the park for big bags of Twizzlers and peanuts that my mother hid in her purse. Walking through the damp, mildewy cement of the concourse to pick up 4 dogs and a Beer Baron Brat for my dad (bratwurst injected with cheese, boiled in beer). Sitting on the bleachers (or on special nights Home Plate box seats), and watching young guys try so hard to be grown men.


That's where I learned to love not the numbers in the box scores, or the wins and losses, but the individual play on the field. The middle infielders, lunging for 8 hoppers up the middle; bubblegum chewing "sluggers" taking vicious cuts through the air; anxious pitchers who could not help but hear every jeer or cheer of every fan in the intimate park. I saw them not as pieces to be swapped or bartered, as rising talents or wastes of a draft pick, but as people living their dreams, trying to be great.

I left Montana and saw why the Majors won't be coming to Great Falls any time soon. Metropoli have no "main street" and housing is wherever you can grab it, after at least five years of confusion over free-way etiquette I can navigate 35, 94 and 62 with ease. And I came to respect the gung-ho fandom of a team that's consistently in playoff contention.

But I'm about to go home, to a simpler place. A place where I learned that baseball's not just about contending for a division title or a championship it's about the people you're around. The family, the friends, and the people who play a children's game for your amusement and their own desire to be the best. I'm going back to the place where it all started, and I'm awfully excited about that.