Mr. Cranky Pants

Maybe its because I haven't slept much lately. Maybe its because I was frustrated during work today. Maybe its because my previously ingenious photoshop for Anthony Swarzak seems utterly useless. Maybe its because I have been spending prolonged hours attempting desperately to find statistics on uncooperative websites. But whatever the case I feel obliged to say this:

I DO NOT LIKE LOSING ANYMORE!!!

Mind you I'm sure I'm not alone. I'm sure our Garden Gnome/Manager doesn't like it. I'm sure our offense doesn't like it. I'm sure our pitchers don't like it. I'm sure that if we could win every time we wanted to we would be just like the Yankees--only not evil.

I think I wouldn't mind so much if we were losing by a lot of runs, because then I would understand that we are a grossly out matched team. It would be understandable if we were losing to teams with obscene payrolls and scads of all-stars: because then our role as plucky little underdogs would be heightened, and rare victories made sweeter. It would be nice if we didn't lose to a man with as absurd a name as "Outman" because--I mean, seriously? We come up with pitchers/superheroes like Dread Pirate Joe Nahtan, Kevin "Killthrow" Slowey and the Nefarious Dr. Cakeburn, and you just go with: Outman? Lamest. Super Hero. EVER! Losing I can stand--losing to cliches I cannot. 

But this: this string of one-run losses, this streak of losses to mediocre teams, this...OUTMAN!!! I MEAN OUTMAN!!?!?!?!?

Listen, Twins, I love you, and I'm sure it will get better...my crankiness might not solve anything--but at the very least I've got it out of my system and am ready to approach the world with burgeoning optimism and serenity--maybe you should try it.

I go a journey in galleries of sound

I love being on the road.... or not....
Why couldn't the meat of our order hit their pitching? Maybe because they have the best pitching in the league?...but I digress. Also...and I mean, this is just a small detail so I can see how our guys might have missed it, but when there's guys on base, it sometimes helps to, you know, help them score. Like, get a hit, or something. Just a small point.

So instead of focusing on the fact that we lost the series, let's focus instead on the "Marineros" uniforms our fancy-pantsed opponents were wearing on Saturday to honor latino contributions to the sport of baseball.

Some observations:
1) Whenever I hear the word "Mariner" I think of Samuel Taylor Colridge and the Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Thus it follows that all of the Seattle Mariners must be tortured poets.

2) Mark Grace is boring. There were minute-long periods of silence during which I could hear crickets chirping.
3) In honor of Latino heritage, and also in honor of the Mariners being poets and also in honor of the Fox announcers sucking, I offer this edition of FSN POETRY, brought to you by Octavio Paz and Pablo Neruda. I may or may not have chosen some of this commentary by opening a book and jabbing my finger at a random page.

GRACE: Welcome to another FSN Baseball broadcast! Here with me today are my buddies Octavio Paz and Pablo Neruda!
NERUDA: to whoever is cooped up
in house or office, factory...
or street or mine or harsh prison cell:
to you I come, and, without speaking or looking,
I arrive and open the door of your prison.
PAZ: If this beginning is a beginning it does not begin with me. I begin with it.
GRACE: Deep thoughts, deep thoughts. So what did you guys think of today's game?
NERUDA: Cold flower heads are raining over my heart.
Oh pit of debris, fierce cave of the shipwrecked...
GRACE: So...not good then.
PAZ: The stone lips of the night utter a word column of grief...
GRACE: I guess you're both Twins fans, huh. Ok...well...I mean, your boys left a lot of men on base - lots of squandered opporunities there. How do you feel about that?
NERUDA: You can cut the flowers but you cannot stop spring from coming.
PAZ: If man is dust, all who go through the plain are men.
GRACE: So true, so true. Words of wisdom.
[30 second pause]
GRACE: Soo... Cuddy's been on the DL, that's gotta be hurting.
NERUDA: A child who does not play is not a child; but a man who does not play has lost forever the child who lived in him and who he will miss terribly.
GRACE: Well it's always sad when your inner child dies. I killed mine long ago. (awkward pause) Think the Twins have a shot at the pennant this year?
PAZ: Reality is a staircase going neither up nor down, we don’t move; today is today, always is today.
NERUDA: Will our life not be a tunnel between two vague clarities? Or will it not be a clarity between two dark triangles?
PAZ: To fall, to return, to dream, and let me be the dream of the eyes of the future, another life, other clouds and die at last another death!
GRACE: That sounds optimistic.
NERUDA: We don't do optimism.
GRACE: That's the sanest thing you've said all day.

[5 minute pause. Crickets chirp.]

GRACE: Hey look a fluffy cloud.
PAZ: Man does not speak because he thinks; he thinks because he speaks. Or rather, speaking is no different than thinking: to speak is to think.
GRACE: Are you mocking me?
NERUDA: I'm not sure, I can understand only a little, I can hardly see...
GRACE: You're not kidding.

[7.5 minutes pass. Paz begins to hum a John Cage tune.]

GRACE: Well that's all for tonight folks! See you next week!


Dear Oakland: please be kind to us. As you can tell, my sanity is slipping slowly away...

Worth Mentioning

Two things occurred on Thursday that ought to be mentioned. First Joe Mauer was named Player of the Month for May, to which Twins Territory responded with a thundeorus: "Well...DUH!!!"

Still the victory for our great and glorious catcher--all praises be unto him for through him do all well pitched games flow--is worth noticing. Please pay homage at one of his many statues throughout the Twin Cities metro area--do not be like the guys just sitting drinking in front of the statue--PAY HOMAGE DANG IT!!!

Also worth mention is the 300th career victory of Randy "Big Unit" Johnson. Whom you might remember as the first of the four pitchers of the apocalypse that we faced in successive games last season (he was also the first man to make me photoshop--as you can see I did it poorly).

Still and all the victory for the big mullet is notable because more than any other pitcher he seemed the most fierce, the most ferocious, and while I still think that Greg Maddux and Johan Santana are better than he ever has been...Johnson is by far the most intimidating. The man killed a bird that flew between his pitch and the plate...KILLED IT! I'm not pro-bird killing, but I am pro-not-making-a-man-who-can-kill-a-bird-with-a-baseball mad.

So, in the spirit of not making Randy Johnson kill us all with his fastballs of doom. Let us raise a toast, and perhaps a two foot long hotdog cooked by a Rock God to (Honestly, its on the second page of the menu) a man who might not have a statue of him in the Twin Cities, who might not have beaten us in the last few years, but who does possess perhaps the greatest mullet of all time, and is now as he has ever been--one hell of a pitcher.

Kudos Randy Johnson--you're almost as cool as Joe Mauer...if by almost you mean, not nearly at all--but still cool in your own way.

The Return of Kaptain Kubel

When last we saw Jason Kubel...good things were happening. Of course, that was a month ago. And since then many good things have happened including Joe Mauer's Return, Cuddy's return to form, the emergence of Killthrow and Pixar's UP (seriously--very good).

But we have not seen or heard much from Jason Kubel. He of the cycle, grand slam, holding down the fort till Mauer gets back prowess. Then suddenly, yesterday, he returned in not one but TWO blazes of glory.

The only explanation of this could be heard in the dugout before the game:

MORNEAU: Wow, Jason, you look pumped up. 

KUBEL: I am, Justin...I AM!!

MORNEAU: Why, I mean, we just got pummeled by the Indians last night.

KUBEL: Because watching the Indians beat the living daylights out of our pitchers reminded me of how much fun it is to hit the ball hard.

MORNEAU: hehheh, yeah...it is pretty sweet.

KUBEL: And for a whole month you've been hitting the ball hard

MORNEAU: Yeah...

KUBEL: And Cuddy's been hitting the ball hard

CUDDYER: Yeah...(smiles and a small ping is heard)

KUBEL: And Joe's been hitting the ball hard

MAUER: Yeah....

KUBEL: And other Joe's been hitting the ball hard.

CREDE: BLAGHERAGHERAGH!!!

KUBEL: And all that time I've been focused on running faster and faster! I mean...once you go triple it's hard not to gerflipple...

MORNEAU: Huh?

KUBEL: I don't know it's Gogo's saying--

GOGO: My nose potatoes is salty!!

KUBEL: So I've been running, and running, but now I've decided that Running is Stupid.

MORNEAU: Uhhh....I wouldn't exactly

KUBEL: No, it is! I've even got a banner to that effect.

MORNEAU: Is it being held in the teeth of two giraffes?

KUBEL: Yeah...gives it a little panache, don't you think?

MORNEAU: Uhh...

KUBEL Anyway...HERE WE GO TROTTING INSTEAD OF RUNNING!!! WOOO!!

We at Peanuts fro Heaven do not agree with Jason Kubel's banner, but we will defend to our dying breath Jason Kubel's right to say such things on banners held in the teeth of giraffes. {A combination of respect for the first ammendment, and just loving everything to do with giraffes}

At least the rest of the Central lost, too....

So... we got spanked last night.

I'm trying not to think about it too much. I mean, we can't win EVERY game. Swarzak can't be awesome EVERY time. Mauer can't ALWAYS hit eight gazillion home runs every game. And Lee pitched a great game. So inevitably, sometimes we will lose. Badly. Very badly.

It's also possible that Jhonny Peralta was still upset with me over this entry from last year, in which I depicted him being ripped apart by Tessa's puppy. In which case I would say - get over it dude.

OK not thinking about it.

Right.

Let's think about something happy - like pie.


Mmmmmm......... pie.
Actually the only thing that made last night bearable was that throughout the depressing last three innings of the game, I was eating apple pie.... or maybe that was the problem. It's possible that the deliciousness of pie infused me with boundless optimism and raised my expectations to unattainable degrees of awesome - SORRY EVERYONE. My bad.

In a related story, Bakers Square has free pie on Wednesdays! You can order anything - anything at all - and get a free slice of pie! I usually get decaf coffee. I know what you're thinking - "Free pie - surely it's too good to be true!" Oh, it's real people. I could not make this stuff up.

So maybe the solution is that EVERYONE needs to eat pie. If all Twins fans across the globe (or at least the metropolitan area, and maybe Gardy too) were to gather at the Bakers Square on Ford Parkway and eat pie until we passed out from happiness, the Twins couldn't not win - at least on Wednesdays.

The Battle for the Strike Zone

Last night at the Metrodome, all was well until umpire Paul Schrieber made a villainous decision, in the sixth inning that would change the course of the game.

Rather than calling a third strike looking, he hesitated, and threw Kevin "Killthrow" Slowey (he of the best record on the team, the killer arsenal of pitches, the admiration of the mass media and badass costume) into the pits of despair from whence derived the only runs Slowey gave up all night. The next inning, he again refused to grant a called third strike to Princess Jose Mijares, which led to more Cleveland baserunners and gritted teeth throughout Twins Territory

What follows is the feverish imagined encounter as Schrieber taunted Mijares and Slowey

Schrieber: Kiss your beautiful record goodbye Slowey!! 6 Innings of work for naught--NAUGHT I SAY!!!

Slowey: You will never get away with this Schrieber...you just don't have a pirate name.

Schrieber: But I have the hat!

Slowey: You look ridiculous

Schrieber: I HAVE A MONKEY!! Besides...I look cooler than Mijares...he looks ridiculous...

Mijares: You know, Kevin--

Slowey: Killthrow

Mijares: Killthrow, fine, he does have a point. Maybe he'd call those strikes for me if I could be something cooler--like a knight or a dragon or something...

Schrieber: NEVER!!! I WILL NEVER CALL A THIRD STRIKE!!! MWAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!

Slowey: Sorry, Jose--you're still a princess in need of saving...but who can save us now?

[Out of the darkest inning in the game came the bellow of]

BLAGGGGGHRRRAAAGGGGHBADDARRRRRRRGGGGH!!!!!

Schrieber: What was that?

Slowey: You're in trouble now

Mijares: There's no escaping

[Together] DREAD PIRATE JOE NATHAN!!!

Nathan: BERGGGERWAGGAWAGGA-AAAAYYYYYY!!! [Subtitle: Now, that's a Pirate Name]

Schrieber: Wow...you are intimidating, but why are you in black and white, whilst we're in color?

Nathan: ARGGERWAJJASTARRRRRRGLE!! [Subtitle: Do not waste time questioning my artistry, prepare to suffer my wrath!!]

[The Dread Pirate Joe Nathan proceeded to fire pitches at blazing speeds until only one member of the Indians remains, and with two quick strikes, the Dread Pirate Joe Nathan is poised for the death blow]

Nathan: BLARGH!! 

Schrieber: Ball!

Mijares and Slowey: C'mon man, that was a strike!!

Nathan: BLARGH!!

Schrieber: Ball TWO!!!

Mijares and Slowey: You jerk face! Come on Nathan make him pay!!

[Nathan winds, fires, and slams a fastball off of Schrieber's head so hard that it drifts out to Delmon Young in left field where it is caught for the third out. Nathan frees Princess Mijares and Kevin "Killthrow" Slowey, and as he walks past Schrieber's prone body murmers]

Nathan: BLARGHARAGHBERK! [Subtitle: "Dread Pirate Nathan--PUNK!"]

Lesson of the night: Never doubt our bizarrely imagined Twins characters, whether they be intimidating superheroes, pretty pretty princesses or Dread Pirates of Doom.

I can't think of anything to say..so I'll have someone else say it for me

Oh the dullness of days without baseball, without anything to report, without anything to occupy our time, or fantasies about penguins and or moving vans to occupy us.

Its at times like this that I read--or watch Tv--or think about baseball. And when I can watch tv about things that I read and their relationship to baseball, well, that's just kickass.

Here now--Stephen Colbert on the connection between Jane Austen and Baseball--officially three of my favorite things ever

Zoom ahead to 1:43 seconds, for the good stuff.

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
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