Dude Weather Subscribe to Secrets Minneapolis / St. Paul
If you haven't been paying attention, you've been missing a strange, maddening, encouraging, teetering-on-the-brink-of-disaster one day, triumphing-over-adversity the next, almost wholly improbable stretch of baseball from the Minnesota Twins.
As I sat staring vacantly at the TV in the ninth inning of last night's Kansas City-Minnesota game, I had another of my brief, increasingly pathetic revelations. My God, I said to my dog, This really is my life.
Which is something I find myself saying to my dog with alarming frequency of late.
Sidney Ponson?
Come on, seriously: Sidney Ponson?
You have to be kidding me.
Truly, there is very, very little that could give me more displeasure than seeing that fat Aruban hump toss a complete game gem in the Metrodome.
My displeasure wouldn't be much diminished even if he had been wearing a Minnesota uniform.
Francisco Liriano was almost as disappointing as Nelson Liriano. There has been a disquieting wave of injuries—to Michael Cuddyer, Kevin Slowey, Adam Everett, Scott Baker, Nick Punto, and, most depressingly, to Pat Neshek.
The Minnesota Twins mean business in their new commercial. Morneau, Cuddyer, and Mauer wear ultra-cool Twins fan gear. They begin strolling to the soundtrack of Led Zeppelin's "Dazed and Confused." In slow motion, the camera catches each individual, like a shot out of Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs. On location, at the under-construction open stadium, it's spring. Air gusts ripple Cuddyer's ringer t-shirt with the "TC" logo.
I love baseball stats, love them as least as much or more than the next woman. And like so many others, the explosion of the statistical analysis of baseball was what drew me deeper into the grip of the game at a moment in my life when I was just starting to pull away.