Philosophy, But Not In a Ben Fold's Sense

If you've never read FreeDarko before, you should. It's almost enough to make you get invested in the NBA. Almost. This post the other day was on the topic of what it means when a "mainstream sports writer" uses the term 'enigmatic' to describe a player. Obviously, this made me think of the 2007 Minnesota Twins. Here's a snippet:

"Sports are by and large about all types of masculine exertion. Physical, intellectual, playing, talking, a large portion of the culture surrounding pro athletics has to do with complete and total will imposition. That's why people talking on the subject are way too invested and usually only partly coherent: above all else, they want to be right. If sports and politics have anything in common, it's that both eschew the rhetoric of compromise or sympathy until well after the show is over (yes, even sometimes during the NBA regular months).

Sad to say, but many people writing about sports do so with the same mindset as those playing or coaching the game. This is supremely fucked up, since critical thinking is supposed to complement the sanguine crawl of battle. They don't consider themselves lowly fans, as we well know. Instead, they're experts, pundits whose command of the knowledge is the mindly equivalent of every big play they ever saw. If Norman Mailer could conceive of literature as prizefighting then damn it, their weekly column or radio spot is going to be their own private Polo Grounds.

That's why I find the occasional deployment of "enigma" so positively remarkable. In essence, it’s the sports section admitting that it can’t even pretend to figure someone out. Sure, part of it is “I have no fucking clue what this zany fella will pull out next from his proverbial wide-brimmed hat.” But there’s also the sense in which any and all blanket generalizations will fail. He’s not a thug. He’s not a bum. He’s not a cancer. He’s not an asset. He’s not a raw talent. He’s not a bargain. He’s a mess of some it all, and thus not even any of it."

It's too easy to jerk knees and apply an iron-clad "sucky" or "glorious" label to your favorite sports team based on the performance of the last series or week or Peter Gammons montage. Why can't we as sports fans admit and embrace confusion? Why can't we enjoy moments for moments sake? Why is it 'Consistency' and not 'consistency' and placed on a golden pedestal with "The Greats" carved in the side?

If You Ain't Got Nuthin' Nice To Say....Don't Be a Twins Fan

I want so badly to write something about this team. I'm in the proverbial eye of the storm here in work-life balance, several taxing work weeks past me but with many more in sight, and the loomy mental monolith of homeownership...er...looming. So having significant free time to think and write about the '07 Twins is like gold Jerry, gold. But this team baffles me like none in recent memory, and I just don't have the words or thoughts (that might lead to words) within me.

Having a "love affair" with a team is not a new concept. That sports-as-relationship mythology is a common motif. But if I might abuse it again for just a second, this team is like a Match.com relationship when you're in the middle of a serious dating dry spell. There are seemingly no more options out there (I'm looking in your directions Wolves and Gophers), and your old girlfriend that you continue to go back to for occasional "benefits" has moved away temporarily (Vikings). You're desperate and lonely. So you keep the hope alive with the Twins because, you know, she does like John Irving novels after all, and gets drunk with you over sushi, and sure she's like a 6.5 or 7, but hey maybe that's enough. But you know, deep down in your heart, that for things to work out, it should just be a lot easier than this. You should just know she's the one -- at least for this year. Sorry, hope you kept my metaphors straight there, because I surely did not.

Anyway, the point is that on some gut level, it just hard to believe in this team this year. During the run last year, you just knew that they were on a tear. You knew that Johan would shut bitches down. You knew that Morneau-for-4 was finally a thing of the past. You knew that Joey Joe Joe would hit at least three grounders past the second baseman. So far this year, all I know for sure is that the Twins will score either NO runs or ELEVEN. Sorry to get all Owen Meany on your ass there, but seriously. This team has to have the largest standard deviation in run scoring history and it is driving me insane. Sucky or briliant...pick a freaking identity.

That is all.

Heh!

My favorite team has been shut-out ten times this year. The players are whining. The GM is wandering. And every day the press tells me the Twins are either surging toward the playoffs, or completely out of it. Every day.

I do not have the proper locution to describe my feelings.

But you know who does?

Mr. James Brown.

Like a dull knife

Just ain't cutting

Just talking loud

Then saying nothing

Just saying nothing

Just saying nothing

You can't tell me

How to run my life down

You can't tell me

How to keep my business sound

You can't tell me

What I'm doing wrong

When you keep driving and

Singing that same old money song

You can't tell me

Which way to go

Cause three times seven

And then some more

You can't tell me, hey

You're like a dull knife

Just ain't cutting

You're just talking loud

And saying nothing

Just saying nothing

Just saying nothing

Don't tell me

How to do my thing

When you can't, can't

Can't do your own

Dont tell me how to be a boy

When, when you know I'm grown

Can't use me like a woman

Woman throws away her dress

And you can't tell me, hey

How to use my mess

You're like a dull knife

Jack, you just ain't cutting

You're just talking loud

Then saying nothing

Just saying nothing

And saying nothing

Shape up your bag

Don't worry bout mine

My thing together

And a doing fine

Good luck to you

Just allow you're wrong

Then keep on singing that

Same old money song

Then keep on singing that

Same old money song

Just keep on singing that

Same old money song

Just keep on singing that

Same old money song

Just keep on singing that

Same old money,oww

I got to go, I want yo

I musta, I got to

Ashes ashes and a dust to dust

I musta, jump on back

I'm doing a, my hands

I say I will, the point

Is too dark to fill

You say I cant

You're phony, you're phony

I said, I said, you're phony...




You’re goddamn right, James…goddamn right.