Wish you were here

It's a holiday special post here at Peanuts From Heaven. While this time of the year is normally associated with large shiny objects with big bows on them, we've always more inclined to spend these days  appreciating our loved ones. With both our families in spitting distance from our condo, we have plenty of family to spend the day with: parents can help us reminisce, siblings will goof off with us, and pets will allow us to dress them up in adorable elfin costumes.

As much as we love the family, we peanuts can't help but think about those who aren't around any more.- And after this year as Twins fans there are lots of old favorites who are not around the land of 10,000 lakes. We love our baseball family, and while we know there's little point in reminiscing, we can't help but feel like the right thing to do is share our gratitude for the years of entertainment and amusement that some of our (now former) twins gave us. So, today we'd like to send out our year end thank you cards to those erstwhile members of the Minnesota 9 who now find themselves playing elsewhere.

Dear Jim Thome,

Our thoughts exactly, Delmon

Thank you for being our very own Paul Bunyan slugger. We know you were hoping that we could win the World Series for you  and that didn't come close to happening. But knowing that you'd turn up every day, behave like a pro, and occasionally try out a Minnesota accent makes you awesome. We hope you enjoy Philadelphia (kiss the Liberty Bell for us).


Dear Delmon Young,
Thank you for being the inspiration of one of our earliest gimmicks here at PFH: Supraction. If anyone encapsulated the fine Twins art of accidentally doing something good in a way that left the opponents surprised, distracted and utterly incapable of withstanding our offensive assault, it was you (probably because nobody expected you to do anything impressive...ever). Sure you could be prickily and you ordered your Johnny Walker Blue with 7-Up, but you were ours and for that we're grateful.

Blagheragh

Dear Joe Nathan,
Thank you for the horse flutters, and the arm pumping and the stand up and shout and giving us the feeling that if we could just have the lead after the 8th inning then we should be victorious. It's hard to believe that you're turning in your Lake Calhoun piracy for the chance to eat brisket in Dallas, but we'll wish you well (unless you forget to bring us some brisket when the Rangers come to town)

Dear Kevin Slowey,

Slowey and Mijares at left, after their capture by
a villainous pirate umpire

Thank you for asking out my old co-worker. I'm sorry she turned you down. Thank you for appearing on the Onion. I'm sorry the show was cancelled shortly after your appearance. Best of luck in Colorado, we hope they have more willing single ladies and a greater appreciation of your grisly sense of humor.



Dear Jose Mijares,
Thank you for never suing us for defamation of character despite repeated reference to the whole "Pretty Princess Mijares" character. You're truly an understanding gentleman. Enjoy Kansas City, we have a hunch you'll like the barbecue down there.

Dear Jason Kubel,
Thank you for all your tireless work raising awareness about the "Running is Stupid" campaign. Your power-hitting/slow-trotting around the basepaths was a valuable combination and we hope more of the ground-ball prone rookies in the organization take your lead and swing for the fences. We hope that they savor your smirk in Arizona.


Dear Jim Hoey,
Thank you for...ummm...uhh....thank you for not minding that we can't think of anything to thank you for.


Dear Michael Cuddyer,
Thank you. For the great throws from right field. For the consistent clubhouse leadership. For the powerful bat. For the dimples, and the startling catches, and the clutch hitting, and the willingness to play 2nd base, and 1st, and center, and pitcher. Thank you for magic tricks. Thank you for charity work. Thank you for grit and pluck and pre-game line-up cards. Thank you for being the guy we wanted to see in the batter's box; because you looked so calm, hit so well, and took the team's success so much to heart. Thank you for seeming like the player who would most likely smile bemusedly at our shenanigans. Thank you.

This photoshop is officially retired...*tear*

We've said our thank you's and we meant them all. If you want to thank any of these guys a little more please vote in the poll at the right for the next class of Peanuts from Heaven Hall of Famers (a hall of fame for those who weren't necessarily the best, but were the most entertaining part of a Twins game). You can vote for as many players as you want as many times as you want.

Next week we'll come back with that other part of the holiday season: comparing all the cool stuff/free agents we now have. But for now we hope you savor the holiday whereever you are...and oh yeah, thank you for reading, whomever you are.

Canuck Heads v.s. Clutch Hair

Today's game was another battle between forces of good and evil. In the evil corner you have the Toronto Blue Jays, a team determined to reach new levels of foreign jerkitude. They have been eliminated from the playoffs for a month, but continue to insist on trying to win games (you don't see the Dodgers or Mariners doing that!). What's more, as the lone representatives of Canada in Major League Baseball, they do a great disservice to the noble people of the great white north by ignoring the Canadian value of fairness. By hitting a crapload* of home runs against a team that can't hit any in the cold Minnesota air this team has sullied the mighty maple leaf!

*Here's a helpful metric conversion for our readers in foreign lands: a crapload is equal to approximately 24 hogsheads.

In the corner of good was, as usual, the Minnesota Twins. And once again it would not be easy, what with many of our regular players nursing injuries and our pitchers battling stinkitude. Sure enough, held to one run through 4 innings, it wasn't promising. Having our starter waver, wasn't comforting and given the bullpen's experiments in stinkitude recently (all relievers wanna be like starters, ya know) good seemed to be doomed.

A Delmon double to start the 9th? Promising. Mauer and Valencia pop-flies to put us on the brink of disaster? Not so much. (Sidebar: Danny V. We like you, and the home runs you hit, but sometimes base hits are just as cool as homers, so, relax a little okay young fella?) Then Jason Kubel walked (because Running is Stupid), and our beloved Jose "Aquapig" Morales did the same leading to "Sexi" 'Lexi Casilla: who compensates for below-average hitting with above-average facial hair.

Why does that facial hair matter? Think about it man, at crucial moments in the history of our world, great hair has provided the critical boost to those who defend us all from encroaching evil. Samson, Ulysses S. Grant, and today: Alexi Casilla. Huzzah for the forces of good, and huzzah for the power of great hair*!

*Note: In case Alexi Casilla won the game due to his own athletic prowess, we reserve the right to call on the power of great hair again this postseason.

More Apologizing/Caption Action

I've been criticized before for apologizing to much and I'm really sorry if it annoys you BUT I'm going to do it some more.

You see, Stinky and I did not realize that graduate school had these things called: "ho-mwu-rk" I think I'm pronouncing that correctly, but there may be an umlaut in there somewhere. Anyway, when it all builds up, you have to spend many many hours dealing with it, which cuts into one's Twins watching time, which makes for sad bloggers, mad bloggers and quiet bloggers. That is why we are not posting much these days...hopefully all will be well eventually, and until then, I'm sorry.

HOWEVER! This should not distract from the glory that was the opening of Target Field! Nor from the fact that both Scruffy's Mother (The Knitting Queen), Stinky and Stinky's Father managed to attend games during the opening set. It was also against the Boston Red Sox which gave us the opportunity to razz our California friend (and one of our most frequent readers) Sparky! But rather than detail stat after stat after stat let's just go to the picture-by-picture replay in a potentially new feature called: Caption Action.

Game 1:

New Park, Same Universal Truths: Running = Stupid

Twins 5-Red Sox 2

Game 2:

Pedroia [to Mauer while crossing home plate]: Call me the Destroyah!

Mauer: No, I don't think I will

Pedroia: C'mon it rhymes with Pedroia when you say it with a Boston accent

Mauer: So does "Bok Choy-ya", You're 5'9", I could literally floss with you...you are not a Destroyer, if we're playing Battleship, you're a submarine, a submarine nicknamed "Bok-Choy-ya"

Drizzle Shmizzle...besides we get to see Delmon and Justin in a batting stance duel "Vwwwing Vwwwing Vwwwing!!!"

Red Sox 6-Twins 3

Game 3:

"But I don't wanna be struck out!!! I start on the all-star team (because Red Sox fans without lives stay up all night voting for me)!!! I was referenced in Moneyball! I HAVE A GOATEE!!!! Slider's aren't fair!!! You're not fair you poop...poop...poopy!!!"

Twins 8-Red Sox 0

Series in a nutshell:

Span & Cuddy: HIGH-FIVE FOR AWESOMENESS!!

O-Dog: Hey look...I can do a sun salutation to the actual sun! Minnesota really IS awesome!

Things we Want and Awards we Got

There has been much discussion of late regarding which positions we should try to fill during the offseason.
Most people think we need a veteran pitcher, to fill the gaping hole in our starting rotation left by Kevin Slowey, Glen Perkins, Francisco Liriano and...pretty much we don't have a starting rotation. So I see their point.

HOWEVER.

We think that instead of a *veteran* pitcher, we would suggest a *cool* pitcher. A *nerdy* pitcher. Someone who can get us in good with the current political administration. I am speaking of course, about this guy. The loudmouth commenters who write on ESPN may not agree with our logic, but we think he has several things going for him:

1) He plays for the Pirates. We like the Pirates.
2) He's a big nerd, and would rather spend his offseason as a government intern than playing video games and doing keg stands (not that i'm stereotyping or anything).
3) Having lost the Master Librarian to the dark bowels of AAA ball, we need someone to fill the sophistication gap in our roster. Someone with class and dignity. Someone who looks good in black and white and who can lounge seductively across a stack of books. I think we've found our man.

Also, we are proud to once again announce the following awards from the National Organization to Reward Electronic Arts and Literature (this following our impressive haul last year)

192nd most exclamation marks in history of bloggerdom (Spots 1-191 belong to Glen Beck)

27th most gratuitous copyright infringement.

18th best new public service campaign: For the Running is Stupid efforts of Jason Kubel.

3rd best reappropriation of classical literature for totally unrelated purposes.

Best use of Mozart in a Baseball Blog

And WORST BLOG EVER...if you're a Yankpire.

(And as a personal award: Bestest Road Trip EVER!)

Monday Doors--So Close...

An explanation before we begin--When I was a kid (read: 5-8 years old) we started Monday morning classes with construction paper, and crayons and a retelling of our weekend adventures. On the front of the paper we had a generic scene, but inside we had details.

This will be our new method of reporting events of the weekends.

Now, to begin with, it was a good weekend, two wins and only one loss, improving our road record, pulling within two of the Tigers. However, it is highly unfortunate that a near perfect weekend was undone by two bad pitches, one from the Master Librarian himself and one from the oft-exasperating Brian "You Make me Feel Like" Duensing. What's worse, Ian Kinsler looks a little like Bozo the Clown. We do not approve of this.

Perhaps Kinsler's act of heroism was born of the struggle betwixt Jason "Le Smirk" Kubel, and Carlos "Mojo Gogo" Gomez.

We all know of Jason Kubel's Public Service Campaign: Running is Stupid. And at the start of the weekend he brought said campaign to Texas with a fury. And for the next several days Kubel's comrades in muscly arms attempted to further his cause with long, long, long, (but not quite long enough fly balls)

Meanwhile Carlos Gomez continued to quietly subvert this philosophy with his stated dogma of "Running is So Fun that I like Running and think We Should All Run More!!...RUNNNING!!"

As is the case with most contrarian ideologies, a showdown was in the offing, and sure enough, Sunday night was the night, and the battle was waged over the soul of our offense--and the winner of the battle turned into the loser, very quickly.

KUBEL: So, I just says to the guy, I says: "Yo--Running is Stupid"

YOUNG: YEAH!

MORNEAU: YEAH! YEAH!!

MAUER: YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!!

CUDDY: That reminds me I need to buy their new album...and also, YEAH!

PUNTO: You guys make a great point, I mean I've been running for a year, and it hasn't helped my average any.

MORNEAU: You should try to hit for power, little Nicky P. After all...

ALL: [In unison] RUNNING IS STUPID! [High-Fives]

GOMEZ: NO! NO!! It's not true!!!!

KUBEL: Yeah, it is.

GOMEZ: No, it is not! Dios mio--am I the only one who remembers how much fun running is. How great it is to feel the wind in your hair, the ground churning beneath your feet. Am I the only who remembers the joy of piranha baseball? Nick?

PUNTO: Huh? I'm sorry, I'm trying to remember the last time I hit a homerun. It might have been back when Mike Redmond still had teeth...

GOMEZ: Denard?

SPAN: Huh? I'm sorry, I was busy offering great deals on aluminum siding...

GOMEZ: Alexi?

CASILLA: Huh? I'm sorry, I'm too busy studying multicellular gametophytes to pay attention to baseball anymore....

GOMEZ: Why won't anyone listen to me?!?

MAUER: Look, Gogo, now that we can hit homeruns, people are cheering for us to hit homeruns. They happen real fast and can score a bunch of runs at once. They even made me popular across the country--heck--I got to compete in a home run hitting contest

MORNEAU: I did that too.

MAUER: Yeah, but they said my name right. [A single tear rolls down Morneau's cheek] I love hitting for power, I want to do it all the time!

GOMEZ: But you haven't had a hit since the beginning of our first game here!!!

MAUER: ..........so?

GOMEZ: So we should play our kind of baseball! Otherwise, we will live by the homerun and die by the homerun--and maybe clowns....they are scary.

KUBEL: Let's let the team decide: Who likes getting base hits and running really really hard [Gomez and Span raise their hands, Punto kinda sorta half raises his]? Who likes hitting home runs and trotting around the bases to tumultuous applause [Everyone else raises their hand, including Punto who sheepishly raises his a little more than half-way]? And who likes multicellular gametophytes? [Alexi Casilla raises his hand--he is the only one ever to raise his hand] Sorry, Gogo, We're going to win this game with home runs!! [Cheers]

GOMEZ: But what if we lose by homeruns?!?

KUBEL: Only a bozo would dare try to beat us by a homerun!! [Laughter]

[Gomez says nothing, despite the Twins sudden dry spell of offense as Mauer, Morneau and Company keep swinging for the fences. He simply looks at Ian Kinsler in the Rangers dugout, as he rocks back and forth, back and forth, in a most menacing fashion]

And that was our weekend.

YOU ought to be traded, drunk guys!

So... I don't say this often, and maybe I'm completely wrong but the Houston Astros kind of seem like Jerkfaces. I feel like each team has it's own unique aura - the New York Yankees is that of pure evil, the Twins is one of goodness and light and puppy dogs, and the Astros is that of Jerkface.

So perhaps it is the Astros fault that the stench of Jerkfacitude crept into the seats in the Metrodome and infected those seated around us. At first, all seemed well, adorable sprogs free from school roamed the seats while their parents looked on bemusedly. We sat amongst knowledgable passionate Twins fans, hopeful that Kevin "Killthrow" Slowey might dominate and that our vaunted line up might vaunt all over Roy Oswalt's face.

Killthrow did not dominate (but he wasn't bad), our vaunted line up sputtered and lurched (particularly when Jason Kubel's running is stupid campaign pooped all over the basepaths after a lead off double), and beer flowed freely. Then did the Jerkfacedness seep out of everyone around us and concentrate its full fury on Delmon Young.

Now, maybe I'm just a dreamer, but I've always felt that it's not OK to boo someone on your own team. Does Delmon screw up sometimes? Yes. Do we sometimes shake our heads and bury our face in our hands wondering why?? WHY??? Yes. He might be a bit of a wally, but he's OUR wally dammit. If you boo your own guy, you're not a fan of the team, you're a fan of winning and you should just go cheer for the Yankees and leave us in peace.

Besides, every once in a while, just when you think there's no help for old Delmon (or "Delmont" as my dad inexplicably decided to call him somewhere around the 5th inning and no he was not drunk), he does something crazy like hit a line drive straight to center field and somehow get to second base. SUPRACTION SUCKAS!

We could almost hear Delmon from our seats, sulking in the on deck circle as Joe CRE-D drew his walks and gripped his back in pain. We could hear Delmon plotting, scheming, envisioning his Supractalicious acts of Doom.

"Call me a chump [mumblewumble] say I oughta be traded [mumblewumble] You ought to be traded drunk guys in Section 118 Row 9! JUST WATCH THIS!!" So it was thought and so it was Supracted.

Likewise the next inning, when Joe Nathan threw his only bad pitch of the night and Lance Berkman hit a shot to left field we could sense Delmon suddenly realizing that this was his moment. And as he took off in his little mincing run toward the ball we could almost hear him shout: "I GOT IT! I GOT IT! I'M GONNA SUPRACT THE HELL OUT OF THIS ONE!!" All while Carlos Gomez was shouting "BALL! BALL! BALL! BALL! BALL!" And then did they leap, and Delmon shouted "GOGO LET ME CATCH IT! I MUST PROVE MYSELF! I MUST SUPRACT!!!" (he has impressive lung capacity) and Gogo replied "BALL! BALL! BALL! BALL!" And it was caught and it was good and it was.....SUPRACTION

We definitely do not approve of this message

Wrigley is marvelous. This we know.

Wrigley is marvelous because of ivy, Harry Carrey, gigantic sausages, and because we won.

However, Wrigley contains some characters. Somebody who punched a Twins fan for not throwing back Mauer's home run. A homeless man named Ronnie Woo-Woo who sneaks into every game ever (and always goes: "woo-woo" hence the name). And Milton Bradley, who shared this opinion with Jason Kubel before the game.

[During batting practice]

BRADLEY: Hey! KUBEL!!! HEY!!! C'mere a second man, I wanna talk to you

KUBEL: Uh...hi Milton Bradley, starting Right Fielder for the Chicago Cubs.

BRADLEY: Why did you refer to me by my full name, position and organization?

KUBEL: Force of habit...we do that so that those unfamiliar with baseball will understand the blogs.

BRADLEY: Cool. Anyway, dude, mad props on the Running is Stupid campaign you got goin' on!

KUBEL: Thanks Milton, I appreciate that.

BRADLEY: I got an informative campaign goin on too!

KUBEL: What's yours Milton?

BRADLEY: Counting is stupid!

KUBEL: Huh?

BRADLEY: Think about it...how often do you count things?

KUBEL: Uh...every day?

BRADLEY: No way...what do you count?

KUBEL: Um..strikes, balls, outs?

BRADLEY: THAT'S STUPID!! I don't ever count anything! Particularly when there are so many surprising and distracting things to--SQUIRREL!!! [Bradley stands at attention staring intently into the ivy in the outfield, where he believes there is a squirrel. ] Anyway...counting is stupid.

KUBEL: Seriously, Milton, I don't think that's...

BRADLEY: Look banner Jason!!

KUBEL: Is that a piece of pizza above your banner?

BRADLEY: Yes...yes it is...

KUBEL: Why?

BRADLEY: This Chicago unless there is something covered in cheese, Chicagoans will not listen to your words of wisdom. Anyway man, I just wanted to come by and say nice work, and I hope to work with you on future anti-stupid--SQUIRREL!!! [Bradley again stands at attention staring into the ivy in the outfield. On the other side of the batting cage, Masters of Supraction Delmon Young and Michael Cuddyer quickly develop a plan.]

So it came to pass, that Milton Bradley's well intentioned attempt to rid the world of counting, was bested by the fine art of Supraction. And thus did the Minnesota Twins arise victorious from their day in the sun at Wrigleyville.

It's a marvelous place.

The Mollification of Mr. Cranky Pants

Last night I was torn between three dominant emotions:

1) Tenuous excitement about a slim lead

2) Tremendous excitement about a big lead

3) Tremendous terror at our 9th inning debacle

However, to be fair, if Ze Ubermensch and Pretty Princess Mijares are going to have one bad night per month that it should be during games where we have a nice fat lead.

But lost among the number of homers, and imploding bullpen is perhaps the greatest play of the night: in the 6th inning, with Jason Kubel on first, one out, and Cuddyer at the plate the following signals were exchanged between Scott Ulger and Jason Kubel.

ULGER: Right shoulder tap, left shoulder tap, brush right leg (Translation: Run really really hard when Cuddy hits the ball)

KUBEL: Left helmet touch, nose touch (Translation: I don't wanna.)

ULGER: Helmet brim graze, buckle tap,buckle tap, buckle tap (You're a professional athlete--RUN!)

KUBEL: Right elbow wiggle, belt buckle tug, brush left leg (But we've lost the last few games when I was trying to run hard--and besides, I brought my giraffes with me.)

ULGER: Chin scratch, deep knee bend, helmet shake (We are not having this debate, when the ball is hit RUN HARD!!)

KUBEL: Touch tongue to nose, pirouette, jete, jete (Can't I be a ballerina instead? It's fun look!!)

ULGER: Break down crying (For the love of everything holy, RUN!)

Kubel, out of mercy to Scotty Ulger was prepared to run, but then he looked at his banner holding giraffes, still gripping their anti-running banner but with a look of abject disappointment on their faces. So, when Cuddyer tapped the ball lightly to second, Kubel ran a little, then stopped, just, stopped, because running is stupid. The second baseman was flummoxed, confused, utterly supracted, and failed to turn a double play, finally tagging Kubel in bewilderment.

Cuddyer was on first, and then Brendan Harris, Delmon Young, and Carlos Gomez hit the ball real hard and we scored three much needed runs. Which was followed the next inning by the ultimate display of Kubel's anti-running feelings: a home run.

While Ulger and Gardy would have preferred the running, but the giraffes clearly like not running more--and there are few things more terrifying than peeved giraffe.

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}