Pay that man his money

Eric Gagne signed for 10 million. Dollars.


Just give him the fucking money already, Bill.

Angels and Giants: Part 2

(Editor's Note: Part 1 of this post can be found here)




But meanwhile, the MN Twins PR staff is furiously scribbling away on notepads at a secret location in Twins Territory, concocting a brand new "Get To Know 'Em" storyboard for 11-trillion time gold-glover Torii Hunter's replacement. Whoever that may be. Will it be Denard, who's career spans (pun) the distance between his draft day and a series of recent minor league notebooks describing his ill readiness to play on the next level? Ugh. Will it be Cleveland-via-Boston's diminutive center fielder Count Chocula? Double Ugh.

My personal history with Torii as a fan is nowhere near as intricate as the one I just laid out for KG. Like (or because of) baseball, Torii was an acquired taste. They are the beets and brussel sprouts of my fandom. But I don't blame namesake for that -- in fact, in relative terms, the seal of approval I bestowed on Torii came quicker than most. His game, at least offensively, was never as complete as KG's, and his swing-hard-and-often approach was a constant frustration early on, and I suspiciously felt, some terribly stupid master plan concocted with fellow Soul Patroller Jacque Jones to drive me insane. Mission accomplished. The defense though...ah, the defense. There was never a question about that, and my head swelled with pride when Torii robbed Barry (whose head was quite large too -- maybe he was swollen with pride also?) during that All-Star game. There is something so comforting/awesome about never doubting whether a tough play would be made out there in center field when the ball left the bat of an opposing hitter and sailed in that direction -- the mental equivalent of shooting a basketball and leaving your hand in the air cuz you KNOW it's going in. But now Torii has moved on to a greener...well, greyer and redder I suppose...pasture and his electric smile is, dare I say, a kilowatt or two more electric than recent memory serves. And once again (as with KG), I feel happy for him as a semi-liberated (I am both beholden to my home-town team and not) fan. No bad feelings. And given my previous adulation and unofficial campaign manager status regarding Terry Ryan, it's probably not suprising that there are no hard feelings for management either. Simple facts is facts -- and the facts is that we couldn't afford to pay for Torii to stay. We got to $45 million and the Angels bid TWICE that. How can you compete? Even if Scrooge McPohlad shovelled another few spadefuls of cash off that money pile he swims in and tossed them in Torii's direction, I feel confident in saying that we never would have sniffed a return of Hunter to centerfield in Minnesota. It's just not how we roll...and frankly, I don't have a problem with that. I won't be cheering for the Angels, but I will be keeping tabs on the namesake. Good luck sir.

You will be missed in Section 108 on half-price homerun porch Tuesdays...and Tuesdays With Torii as well.

All the Good Things and the Bad Things That May Be

Way too early to react to this activity. Especially with more, apparently, to come.

Here's what the TWT boys have been aruging about today:

Are the Twins rebuilding or contending in 2008? I am firmly on the side of "If we're not f'ing contending now, then how will we ever be?". Smitty appears to be more in the "Buy low, sell high...we're building for the future" camp. While Kaiser has positioned himself in the "Yeah, the Celtics are really good" bandwagon.

You can argue all day about what the hell new GM Bill Smith is doing...but we won't really know until Santana is either traded or signed. So, for now, we'll be concentrating on justifying the name of this blog and stroking Kevin Garnett ever so gently (that's how he likes it).

In the meantime; Here are my suggestions for identifying current and potential Twins players: (handy for both fans and Gardenhire's alike!)

Joe Mauer: He's the one with the halo, sideburns, and cheese dripping down his chin

Justin Morneau: He's the one wearing a tattered "2006 MVP" tee-shirt, with a bottle of Jeri Curl sticking out of his hockey bag

Delmon Young: He'll be the one with the heavy winter coat listening to Gardy talk about how important it is to "go with the pitch...the home runs will come".

Johan Santana: Don't look for him. It was all a dream. He never actually existed.

Brendan Harris: I assume he looks exactly like Jason Bartlett.

Melky Cabrera: He'll be the one with the EXTREMELY disappointed look on his face.

Scott Baker: He looks like he's twelve and he should be wearing a "Fuck You, Matt Garza" tee-shirt.

Craig Monroe: Who?

Torii Hunter: Three words: Shit. Eating. Grin.

Angels and Giants: Part 1

Oh what a turmoil our local sports franchises have thrust upon us. And oh what a turmoil our carefully selected blog name is wreaking on my sports soul this weekend. Tuesdays With Torii was chosen with no small amount of brainstorming and mental gymnastics. It perfectly befit our sports and pop-culture leaning mentalities, as well as incorporated, at least in my eyes, the most magnanimous and engaging character on our favorite stick-and-ball club. If "Garnett" rhymed equally well when inserted into the title of a popular, cheesy, touching, yet slightly overrated novel, I may very well have pressed for a basketball-centric outlet. And these two giants of these two (fraternal, not identical) twin cities, and the manner in which they have now departed, are the subject of this post.

I loved loved love Kevin Garnett, and I'm not afraid to say it. As far as arbitrary lists involving sports "heroes" go, he is well up into the lofty heights on mine. The troposphere maybe. My connection with KG has a rich history, and is intertwined with my own personal basketball career in a way for which I will always be biased in his favor. Until I got old and my knees slowly turned into the consistency of a Jolly Rancher (green apple) left out in an acid rainstorm, basketball was by far the biggest sport in my life. The Wolves became our team, and their formative years were also mine. Drafting Garnett coincided with my entry into college, and the Wolves' transition to "adulthood" mirrored my own (those who maintain that I am one anyway). After college, I had the opportunity to be in two commercials with the Big Ticket for his (then) shoe company And 1 sports, and he did not disappoint in real life either. The upper part of my face and forehead debuted to critical acclaim during the All-Star game that year. As a basketball player, his skills perfectly befit my mental disposition for fandom -- intense, versatile, freakishly athletic, smooth. And the parts of his athletic personality fit too -- humble, loyal, extremely self-motivated. There is a lot there to respect. During the end of the last season and throughout this off-season the critics buzzed about one thing -- the time had come for KG to go elsewhere and the Wolves to start over. And this strange feeling came over me...acceptance. It felt right. And when the Celtics maneuvered to nab Ray Allen on draft night, I remember distinctly thinking that KG would go there. Now, I've never been a Boston Anything fan, the Sox least of all, but the Celtics a strong second (and the Bruins about 8th, even placing after Freddie Prinze's Cape Cod minor league baseball team in that movie where Jessica Biel is wet). But as soon as my all-time favorite basketball player became the third of a very Big 3, and with the Wolves impending sucktitude, I decided to adopt them. For 2 years. And a fan option on the third. I knew...KNEW...as soon as the three were assembled that they would perfectly compliment each other - and I truly wish I had documented this certainty for personal ego-stroking purposes....I knew before everyone else and all that. But that is minor, really. More importantly, so sue me, I like to watch fun things. Entertaining things. And I intuited almost immediately that this would be a fantastically fun team to watch exactly because of the way they would compliment each other -- a dominant frontcourt guy, a sniper, and a hyper-effective slasher. A hyper-competitive chest-beater leader-by-example, a cucumber-cool Jesus Shuttlesworth, and an existing team leader in need of someone(s) else to shoulder some Sisyphus duty. But maybe, just maybe, the reason I need to adopt the Celtics is also that me and the Wolves...well...we just need a nice long break from each other. I can watch them from a distance, you know, checking in from time to time. But me and McHale just have too much baggage to make this thing work right now. He messed up time and again (about 84 by my count) in trying to match complimenting players to my favorite 6'13" player, and worse, enabled his jackass buddy to save his own (jack)ass in the very fell swoop McHale could never accomplish in more than a decade's worth of trying.

Not that I'm bitter.

Stay tuned for Part 2...

(This post is mirrored at 6'2")

Two things I've read

First, it's the Torii watch. The White Sox are making efforts to talk with his agent. Torii in a Sox uni, kinda hurts. I imagine Ozzie like that kid in high school asking the prom queen out and she checks "maybe" on the note. The excitement builds and you ignore the potential let down if she eventually goes with the doofus hockey player. This isn't a real life experience, but it does provide me with the opportunity to say how much the class of 95 still thinks about Courtney Olson and Anna Siebert. Nice, worked them into another quote. Anyway, please Torii, if you don't come back here, please don't play there. I don't want to hear Hawk Harrelson say, "it's back, way back, put it on the board....NO. Torii makes another synsational catch for the Good Guys".

A Rod wants $350 million dollars with his next contract. The Yankees were going to offer an extension that would have been worth $230 million. That, obviously wasn't enough. Is anyone really going to pay that amount of money? Heal yes someone will. Baseball is so frickin financially Scroog McDuck right now that someone will pay it. Then ARod will build a large rectagular building with a big $ sign on it and dive off his diving board into his pool of gold coins. Then still suck in the playoffs, still hurt his club house, still make dumbass comments about other players and their relationship (Jeter) and cripple his teams chance to get better. Enjoy Cooperstown and being considered one of the top 5 players of all time. I dont want anything to do with you.

Scary Thoughts Are Only Speculation

On this Hallo's Eve, I can't stop wondering "what could be" as I read and hear how the Yankee's have, yet again, taken the top headlines in baseball instead of writers celebrating the season that Boston and Colorado had. Short note to Manny, thanks for being average in the regular season and awesome in the playoffs. Really helped the fantasy squad. I am officially sick of the "Manny being Manny" cliche, mainly because I had to listen to Tim McCarver say it more then once. Why doesn't Joe Buck hit Tim's mute button anyway? Back to the subject at hand, free agency and the state off our team and our Namesake.

Here is my trick and maybe a treat - Bill Smith and the boys go crazy and figure out that if they want to compete now they must do many things. 1. Sign Santana to a deal. Duh. 2. Listen to Torii, discuss with him what he wants, try (no really try not just say we tried) to get him here. 3. Sign Morneau to a deal. 4. Make a play for Hank Blalock, Mike Lowell, Garrett Atkins, or heck, see if Mike Schmidt or Scott Leuis can still play. Just don't go with Punto at 3B. I can take him at 2B if we have someone else at 3B. Please, please, please. 5. Don't play coy with the fans. Be honest with us, tell us if you playing for next year then do something about it. If you are going to "rebuild" then trade Nathan. If you're not, see 1-4. 6. Don't bring up that the Twins are small market and can't compete with paying high salaries. We all know Mr. Pollad is the wealthiest owner in baseball. You have a new stadium coming. I refuse to listen or sympathize with your self-imposed restriction to not pay for talent. Detriot just traded for Renteria and upgraded their SS and 1B position in one swoop (Guillen will now play 1B, he's better then Casey). Suck it up.

Now it's time for a reality check. Torii is gone. I think the writing is on the wall. I believe he truly wants to win and I think he feels slighted by not being signed. I think he sees that the organization prefers to spin their wheels while the other teams in the division continue to fill holes with free agents/trades. He will be approached by many teams with a better shot at making the playoffs and they will all come with their wallets out and smiles on their faces. I don't think the Twins will try and get a good 3B. Note, Morgan Ensberg is not a good 3B. I think they will sign someone who hits .250 and about 15 HRs. Yes, that's better then Punto, but it's not what we need to complete with Detriot, Cleveland or any other playoff team. They will go with a young pitching rotation. Actually, that's a good idea (see Ponson & Ortiz). Let Kubel play some more. If he was a regular, you would get 25 HRS from him. I know Bill Smith is a new GM and we can only speculate that he will operate similar to Mr. Ryan (thanks for all the good things you did Terry, I really do appreciate your work). But, unfortunately past history seems to guarantee future results when it comes to our beloved squad.

So I'm asking the Twins to please save this Minnesota sports fan from the current peril I swim in as I cheer from my other home-town squads. Ok, the Wild are pretty good so far, but I don't skate so well and my parents didn't make enough money for me to play hockey at Minnetonka. So, that's that.

Blue Boy

Resignation, thy name is Terry Ryan. Also, my relative fandom for the remainder of the season...















"There are moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad humanity must assume the aspect of Hell"
-Edgar Allen Poe

No offense Bill Smith.

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.

I Hang My Head And Cry…

Well, maybe not…I only cry at weddings and West Wings. But still…what a weird f’ing sports day for folks in MN.

Garnett’s gone…that seems certain. I’ve long since given up any semblance of interest in the NBA. I honestly equate it to Cycling and NASCAR at this point…I only pay attention when there’s a disaster. But, there are other folks I know that remain loyal to the Picket Fence and consequently pay attention to the minutiae of the NBA…much as I still read box scores daily.

Those are the folks I cry for today. Rebuilding is not fun. And rebuilding while having very little confidence in your architect deserves its own circle of hell. As a card-carrying homer (there’s a loon on it), I wish all MN sports teams well. But good god, Kevin McHale has almost (and literally) swapped teams with a moribund franchise in less than a year…seemingly due entirely to the fact he knows their phone number by heart. My favorite part of this deal is McHale was “able” to get the Celtics to include a TIMBERWOLVES first round draft choice. Isn’t that a sign you should maybe mingle a little more at the annual GM jamboree? Christ, it’s like downloading porn from yourself. What’s the “plan” here, Hannibal?

And here’s where MN Basketball Fan is separated from MN Baseball Fan…the plan. While it’s certainly not unanimous, I believe most Timberwolves fans think it’s time for something new. The Kevin Garnett era was great, he’s been an amazing player and citizen…but the team isn’t getting better anyway. But…since NO ONE believes Kevin McHale knows what he’s doing, the assumption is that the Timberwolves made a terrible deal.

On the other side of town, the Quiet Genius can trade his starting second baseman for two low-level minor leaguers, and the first frame of reference for us (yes, I’m switching from “them” to “us”) is Joe Nathan, Boof Bonser, and He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Even if Twins Fan is apprehensive about the deal, four division championships in five years is a nice cushion to fall back on. “Phew…it’s okay, Ryan knows what he’s doing.”

And I think he does. The Castillo trade makes SOME sense. And I do firmly believe Terry Ryan understands that you base franchise operations on things slightly more tangible and important than nostalgic memories of clotheslining Kurt Rambis.


But I’m frustrated today. Frustrated that an upgrade at third base apparently could have come cheaper than originally thought. And by statements like this:

"No, we're not giving up at all," Ryan said. "We're 6½ games back, and we're better than we were last week. If we didn't think we could absorb this, we certainly wouldn't have done it."

Better than last week? Why? ‘Cuz we’re playing the Royals?

Catharsis demands a list. A list of frustrations and miscellaneous ramblings that will hopefully remind me that my team has a plan:

1: As linked to above, Ty Wigginton was available. I’m not going to argue about the merits of Dan Wheeler, but, look, the Twins have better pitchers than Dan Wheeler. We really couldn’t have let go of ONE of them to get an immediate upgrade to our most needy position…that could have also turned into a longer term solution? Even if Wigginton doesn’t turn-out to be the answer at third…isn’t he already a better option than Nick Punto as “super sub”? He’s done the same thing for most of his career that Nick Punto has done, but *NOW WITH HOME RUNS*. Breathing…

2: Trading Luis Castillo is fine. It’s long been certain that the Twins weren’t going to bring him back next year. And getting “something” for him (even if part of something is the son of this guy) is probably better than nothing. But if you really think you’re still fighting for a playoff berth, isn’t the “something” you’re hoping to get a trip to the World Series? If you’re going to make a run, you make a run. Let’s not pretend Casilla was kicking down the door. Breathing…

3: And what the hell is going on with Torii Hunter? No more silence, please, Mr. Ryan. It’s obviously bothering him. He’s definitively the leader of this team (which, by the way, is one of the reasons you should sign him) and his mood has proven to infect the team, whether positive or negative. We know you don’t like to work through the media, and, most of the time, that’s a fine attititude to take. But where has it got you with the Namesake? It’s gotten you a pissed off superstar. We all know you don’t have a replacement ready for him (which is the other reason you should sign him)...so why not come out and say,

“He’s not going anywhere this year, we’re still fighting for a playoff spot. He’s a key member of this organization and we’re going to work like hell to resign him. Torii’s been vocal about wanting to help christen our new stadium and retire a Twin…we’ll see how much he wants it when we sit down and talk in October.”

Is that so hard? Not only will it act to calm down Torii and his fans (raising my hand), but will also serve to turn the tables on him a bit.
Breathing…

4: The little moves haven’t worked. This franchise is in an amazing run of drafting and developing first-rate pitchers. And they deserve full credit for developing the little offensive punch we now have (Morneau, Hunter, Cuddyer, Mauer…Bartlett?). But enough already with the Ron Gardenhire School for the Old and Crappy. No more Ponson’s. No more Rondell White’s. No more Castro’s. Enough already. Go get a real bat, for Christ’s sake.
Breathing…

5: Did I mention you should have gotten Wigginton? Know why? ‘Cuz Nick Punto’s done. God love him, but he’s done.
Breathing…

6: What are we doing with Carlos Silva? He’s also most likely gone next year…so by the Castillo logic he should go too, no? But what about that pennant chase? Silva’s been a nice veteran presence on the staff. And it probably doesn’t hurt he’s best friends with Johan. So why not start the Sign Johan campaign now and sign Silva to a one year contract extension? Or , you know, trade him for Lombo’s kid.
Breathing…


And...I’m fine.

Please, fellow Twins fans, I encourage you to write your own cathartic rant. When we’re all done, I’ll print them and use the paper to make a giant Oragami Swan that I’ll then train to kill and eat Nick Punto. That's my plan.

Excuses and the Palooza.

Well, the excuses have started. Something to do with an inconsistant strike zone during Tuesday's game. Another rookie pitcher "making pitches when he had too" and dominating our squad as well as the Twins "no taking advantage of opportunites" (see 14 LOB last night). I was shining my shoes last night while watching the game, guess which activity was more fun?

Just so I can start talking about Garza sooner, I'm going to be brief. Blame Tuesday's game on another boot by our shortstop (sort of), but mostly on our inability to hit. Ditto that for last night. The strike zone did some inconsistant Tuesday, but at least it was inconsistant for both teams. Joe needs to be swinging on close pitches with 2 strikes. Garza's curveball to Ordonez that was a called strike 3 was too high. Cuddy took at least one pitch in the 6th that was right down the middle and called a ball. Don't blame the umps, sort of blame the defense but completely blame this squads inability to hit left hand pitching. Robertson isn't a terrible pitcher. I mean, he's no John Dank's, wait a minute ..... he is. Come on guys, just score a run or two. Oh, I understand Punto is a very good defensive player, but if you aren't going to hit (please see .209 batting average) then get a damn bunt down. Like I've said before, if Punto isn't going to hit in the .290-.300 area & steal some bases, he shouldn't be starting. I can live with the Punto of last year as our starter (can you say career year), but I can't live with the Punto from the other two years.

How much do we love Garza. I'm not going to start saying we've found our new "pitcher not to be named", but he has looked good. Granted it's two starts and let's see if he's still doing this good at start 5 and 6, but it gets me excited for our staff next year. The kid looks good out there. Seems to mix his pitches better. Now, can we trade someone for a thrid baseman? Six guys I can think of that might be interesting (and younger): Atkins, Chad Tracy, Ty Winnington, Mark Teahan, Bill Hall or Ed Encarnacion. Baker's been pitching well, Slowely wasn't terrible, Garza looks pretty good. I mean, really? They still want Perkins to be a starter so how many prospects can we have?

Happy day-late birthday to the namesake. 32 and still kicking ass. Hope I can still hit bombs in softball when I'm that old. Who am I kidding with that last statement.

There's Gold in Them Thar Arms

In the latest effort to protect his investment in the “small market” Twins, Carl Pohlad has come up with his most creative financial move yet.

Faced with the obvious loss of Johan Santana to free agency after the 2008 season, the Twins have begun, for a price, allowing the most likely suitors for Mr. Santana’s future services to dictate his pitch count.

After seven dominating innings against the A’s on Friday, Santana was pulled from the game by manager Ron Gardenhire…or was he?

Reached by satellite phone from his floating spaceship, super-duper quadrahexabillionaire Angels owner Arte Mareno had this to say about Santana, “Look, we all know that Pohlad isn’t going to sign him. So what’s wrong with paying a little upfront now to protect my investment for the future? It’s like paying earnest money. And to be fair, I actually asked the Twins to pull him after six innings. I think I’ll have to have my “advisors” talk to Mr. Ryan today.”

The Twins, unable to “keep up with the Epsteins” through traditional methods such as overcharging for terrible food and blackmailing taxpayers for luxury box filled stadiums, seem to have uncovered the small-market holy grail.

“I love it!” says the ghost of George Steinbrenner. “I wish they would have approached me first. I would have paid them not to use their entire bullpen! As it is, we’ve begun discussions about giving that big Canadian feller every Tuesday through Friday off.”

While the legalities of such a move are still under question, uber-rich Arte Moreno doesn’t seem concerned. “Look, first off, if we’ve learned anything over the years it’s that ‘baseball’ and ‘rules’ have a loose relationship at best. And secondly, it’s not like Carl isn’t going to use this additional revenue stream to…*guffaw*…upgrade…*snort*…his…team. I’m sorry I couldn’t get through that with a straight face. Could you not write that milk came flying out of my nose?” (Ed. Note: Milk did in fact come flying out of Mr. Moreno’s nose.)



(C’mon Gardy…we’re just keeding. Plus…you don’t pay us to be nice to you. Yet.

In other news…the Twins swept the A’s by refusing to score one run more than was necessary. Reached for comment, The Quiet Genius had this to say…”Suck it”.)

I'm Not Sayin'...

I have a money making scheme. I'm not saying that any one actual human being would attempt to do something like this, especially not me or say, anyone who "plays" a sport for one of my favorite teams or anything. I'm just saying that it is possible that something like this could happen. Were someone so inclined. Okay, say you sign a big contract. You're asked to produce "runs" and "hits" at a certain rate, the same rate that you've done so consistently throughout your career. But it's been a long career and frankly, you're tuckered out. You're not even asked to do anything athletic, like say run around in left field of a major league baseball stadium and catch hurtling white orbs. You just have to think about "running" and "hitting" all the time and meander up to plate once in awhile, say three to four times a day. But you suck at it for awhile. Suddenly, one of your teammates gets hurt and you are forced to try and catch hurtling orbs once again. Your hitting starts to improve, thereby satisfying one of the central tenets of statistics, and you instead decide to attribute this recorrection of the statistical universe to the coincidence of the additional hurtling orb workload. You were embarrassed for sucking and needed an excuse. But secretly, oh so secretly, you are majorly pissed that your once cushy position of thinking, sitting, and hitting has become quite anti-cushy. It's the anticush of what you expected. But what are you going to do? You "tough" it out for a year, and expect that next year, everything will be back to normal and you'll be back in that coveted, cushy position once again. But what's this? Your boss suddenly tells you that you did such a good job running, jumping, orb catching, and orb hitting the year before, that you will be responsible for ALL(!) these activities again. For the whole year! Arg! What's a guy to do!? So, you think to yourself...."Self, listen. What we need to do is pretend to get hurt while running. Then they will see that when you run, you get hurt, so you cannot run. In fact, you can't just get hurt running in a normal way say, while running after orbs. You have to get hurt in a really stupid way, so that your boss will be very, very frightened to make you spend much time running ever again." So you fake an injury to your legs while running out of the dugout. A good place to choose because leg injuries are very mysterious, and no one ever knows if your'e really hurt or how long it will take you to heal. "Good thinking self!" So, you go ahead and do that and get sent down to the minor leagues to "rehab". And when you get there you realize that you are getting paid the exact same! And there aren't big mean guys with pens and notepads and laptops writing down what you say and expecting you to actually do it, and you can drink Red Stripe in the clubhouse, and hang out in the hot tub for a long time because you are much older than all your teammates and "injured" and "need a good long soak". And then you realize that it is not such a bad gig, and maybe you should just stay there forever. And so you try. But after awhile, people start to realize that maybe even an old man should be healed by now, so you say that yeah yeah, you're leg is starting to feel a lot better. But then whoops! You hurt another part of your leg. Probably because you were overcompensating from the other part of your leg that was hurt before. Oh well! More hot tub and Red Stripe! Hooray beer!

.....I'm just sayin'.

Be afraid, Barry...be very afraid

I'm just sayin'.

As much as I hate the MLB marketing team (except for the folks that work for the Twins), I'm going to throw them a bone here. As a SURE FIRE way to spice up this year's All-Star game...have Torii in a kayak every time Barry comes up to the plate. If Barry hits it out there, and Torii catches it, it's an out.

Oh yeah...congrats to the other, non-blog named after them guys, too. Johan, promise us you'll watch after Justin...he's fragile.

(Vote for Neshek, here)

How much for one rib?

I don't love day games as much as I'd like to.

Listening to games in the evenings has become such a big part of my routine, that i'm legitimately disappointed when I don't have a game to catch at night.

But the inherent desire to "skip school" and the realization that it was the last home game until after the All-Star break overwhelmed me, so I scheduled a very important meeting that just-so-happened to take place between 12:00 and 3:00 inside the Metrodome yesterday afternoon. What a break!

Not sure if it was the return of the Fightin' Canadian, the fact that school is out, or the allure of the lunchtime Dome Dog...but there were many more people in attendance than I would have expected. In other words, it was harder than I thought it would be to buy a "cheap seat" and sneak into the lower deck. But with Quixotic dedication, I found my Dulcinea just past first base near the top of the lower deck. Take that, Pohlad!

And it was from this gloriously underpaid-for seat that I witnessed Frank Thomas hit is 500th career home run. Bringing me to today's question...How much was this event "worth"? Both historically and financially. Would I tell my kids that I was there when it happened? Would Bob Costas someday narrate a two-hour documentary dedicated to the career of Frank Thomas? Or even a two minute segment on "TWIB Notes"? How about the ticket stub? Should I save it? Should I sell it? Would someone actually buy it?

I don't mean to demean or even question the value of Frank Thomas' career. In addition to having one of the most underrated nicknames in sports history, he's also been nothing short of an incredible hitter for most of his career. But has he seperated himself to a point where he belongs to a part of Baseball Lore? I can't really answer that. And if he did, would I save the ticket stub anyway?

I can say that he hasn't managed to distinguish himself enough within my own personal lore. (If you find yourself without lore, it's fairly easy to obtain...I think you can even netflix it)

So as the ball left the park, I felt buzzless...no chills up or around my spine. This wasn't a big moment for me. But it must have been for someone, my co not-worker claims the ball would probably fetch $10G on E-Bay.

Really? Ten THOUSAND dollars for a baseball? This isn't me rearing my ugly socialist head again...there must be a much better way for a human to spend $10,000 on THEMSELVES aside from buying a baseball you had nothing to do with in the first place. How about a nice trip to Door County?

All this is a really rambling way of saying, "I just don't get it".

Even when I was a kid and collected stuff...baseball cards, mainly...I never felt like I was doing it for the cash. Sure, we checked our Beckett's to see if the value of the cards was arrow up or arrow down...but that was more about owning something that few others had, not about a retirement fund.

Now, as an adult, I have no conception of folks who wait in line (trampling little kids) to have Joe Mauer sign a Jimmy John's wrapper. And it's not just sports. Why would it matter to me if George Saunders signed my copy of "The Brief and Frightening Reign of Phil"? It's still a great book, and while meeting him might be cool...I don't really care for his signature.

AmI in the minority here?

Thankfully, the mythical $10G's will never see the light of day. I see the guy that caught Hurt's ball yesterday did the right thing...at least in my mind. He caught it, that's cool. To hold it from the person who it means the most to? Not cool. Mientkiewicz-ian, even.

But who am I to judge? A man's gotta make his way in the world...$1.29 at a time. Plus $2.75 shipping and handling, of course.

Rambling Man

First of all, the Onion is killing me on a regular basis. Anyone see the article entitled something in the neighborhood of, "Prince Fielder Dies of Inside the Park Home Run"? Quality. They must have warehouses and warehouses packed full of monkeys on typewriters to come up with the stuff they do.

Meanwhile, the Minnesota Genetically Identical Siblings Born Shortly One After Anothers have been doing a fantastic impression of a Valleyfair ride lately (read: all season), and it has got me thinking. When does one decide that one's team is just a .500 team? How much evidence is necessary? This is not to say that I believe this to be the case with respect to the '07 Twins. But should I? Sure they haven't won more than four games in a row all season, and sure they've hovered around .500 all season. But they're also a mere 5 and a third (games started by Ponson only count partially since it was clearly a joke) games back of the division lead right now. And how many games did the freaking Cardinals win last year?

It was these kinds of thoughts that ricocheted from the crumbling drywalled recesses of my brain last night as I sat through the 12-inning pitchers' duel (is there a better kind?) with my tow-headed amour at Metrodome. You know that point in your fandom where you'd give anything yes anything if only this damned game would end so you could go to bed already? Where streaming masses of pinstripe and stirrup-clad little leaguers parade for the exits right past you with the game yet hanging in the balance? Where you would like to question their fandom, but get a giddy little thrill when your (so far this year) spotty lefty reliever comes into the game, and there is the slight hope that you can slide beneath your comforter oh-so-very soon? It's a moral dilemma people. A quandry if you will. And it was an exact microcosm last night for my general feelings about my club as we near the midpoint of the season.


My loyalty as a sports afficionado demands that I stay til the end of the game, and that I never give up on my club, no matter how "Royal-y" the season. But my medulla oblongata demands sleep -- a proper amount of time for my neurons to rest and prepare for the flood of coffee and sunshine and over-enthusiastic office workers that is imminent once the sun rises next. And other parts of my brain demand that I don't fixate on a club that is going nowhere, no matter how many hopeful teases and rationalizations there are to the contrary...

Current whisperings in my ear:
*Injuries
*Did it last year from farther back
*Just make the playoffs and anything can happen

Why can't the different parts of my brain just get along?

Hops' Corner of Negativity

Yeah, we won!

Like most of you, I was not looking forward to reading stories this morning about anemic offenses and lack of run support for the Greatest Lefty of All-Time. But, also like most of you, I felt that tremor of hope when Tubby Bubby Wickman was brought in to "close" the game. And I too rejoiced when Naked Catcher ended another ridiculous and exciting inning of slapping the ball around the infield. Really, I did. But after the Jubilee...did anyone else flashback to the 8th inning with a tilted, dog like look of confusion?

Wait…Jason Tyner pinch-hit for Jason Bartlett in the 8th inning?

First off…here’s a list of people I’d rather see pinch hit for Jason Bartlett:


1: Jeff Cirillo

2: The back-up, back-up catcher…I mean that’s why we have him on the roster, right? No? Oh…then why do we have him on the roster?

3: Bernardo Brito

4: Carlos Silva

5: Luis Rodriguez

6: Lew Ford (I just threw up a little)

In what universe is it logical to have a light, hitting back-up outfielder hit for your light-hitting starting shortstop? True, Bartlett has been struggling. But what could you write about Bartlett that you couldn’t copy/paste for Tyner?

No power? Check.
Low average? Check.
Speedy? Check…but you have to get a hit first.

Now…before I dig myself too deep into a lack-of-information hole, I need to remind our faithful readers that, as a bearded socialist, I have turned away from the soul-crushing, brain-washing, electric sex that is television. Consequently, all my live Twins info comes through the Gluek’s tinted glasses of The Dazzler and Gordo. So, if any of the above players were unavailable due to injury, sleep deprivation, or ‘cuz they suck donkey balls…I didn’t get the memo.

The point is…well, the point is what’s the point of having the roster like this? There’s not ONE bat on the bench you trust more than Jason Tyner? I LOVE Tyner as a back-up outfielder/pinch runner. My affinity for Jarvis Brown is well documented…and I’d welcome Jarvis Brown 2.0 on this team. BUT NOT AS A PINCH HITTER!

Not funny, Gardy. Not funny. That’s the kind of move that makes me start to wonder if you bet on the Braves last night. Too bad the other back-up catcher…the one who likes his junk a lot…ruined your night. Does that mean Ulger had to buy the pitcher of Hamm’s?

(And since we’re in this mood today…how excited are you, twenty years from now, at the new, new stadium to have our own Monument Park behind the outfield fence? I see Namesake there. I see the Fightin’ Canadian. Johizzy. Possibly Trever Plouffe.

And of course, The Jesus. But I see his monument being somewhere closer to second base. It’ll be cute, like the hill in center down in Houston.)

I love Bob Wickman. Go Twins. Scott Baker owns the Brewers.

Stealing Is the Sincerest Form of Flattery

I didn't think this up or...you know...write it, but I wish I had....

Baseball Purist Horrified To Be Beaten To Death By An Aluminum Bat

Baseball purist John McGee was horrified and disappointed today to be beaten to death today by an attacker wielding an aluminum baseball bat.

“Oh, this is terrible!” yelled out McGee when his mugger began beating him with a DeMarini Voodoo baseball bat made with space-age SC-3 aluminum alloy and a composite handle. “Why, God, why? Why kill me with an aluminum bat? This is no way for a person to go!”

...Click here to continue reading...

(via Sportspickle)

Trade Proposal #1

I can't get the trade hype out of my head. So I've started brainstorming on what out beloved team could do. But instead of putting three or four hopefully rational proposals together, I think I'll start with one a day and see the reaction. Please note that Kyle Lohse will be involved in every trade because, well, why not.

I'm going to shot for the stars on this first one cause you need to. Plus I need to fantasize about the prospects of having this guy on our squad.

Twins trade to the Marlins: Garza, Duesing, Daniel Velencia and Kyle Lohse

Marlins trade to the Twins: Miguel Cabrera

Marlins would get two top pitching prospects and (in my limited research) a good 3B prospect from our organiziation. MC is at $7.4 million for this year and don't know for next year. But I think we've heard some Ensberg talk ($4.3 million) and Wigginton talk ($2.7 million) and I'd pay an extra $3-4 million for a top 10 player.

The only snag I see in this is the Marlins wanting a major league ready player. Maybe throw in Boof. Don't know, but I think this trade seems reasonable.