In about 24 hours, the Los Angeles Dodgers disassembled the Minnesota Twins and left them in little pieces, out in the rain. On top of that, two of the moving parts don't work anymore. Alcala and Kirilloff need repairs, and they're both key cogs in the Twins machine. They say the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, and right now those parts do not add up.
I monitored the first game on my cell phone. My ear was too clogged (allergies) to listen to the game. I'd watch the game, but I lack the time and money it takes to actually find a Twins game on television.
I live in Iowa, and even though the Twins Caravan used to swing by here, this state does not feel like Twins territory. Iowa is filled with Cubs fans. I've got nothing against the Cubs. I think they created lifelong fans when their games were broadcast on WGN, just like the song says. Seems like there might be something to this idea that actually watching games creates fans who then spend money on the team and travel to see games.
It's hard to piece together a blog post about 24 hours of disappointment and despair. I did get former Twin Brusdar Graterol's name stuck in my head. Ever have that happen to you, where you keep hearing a unique sounding name in your head like it was a catchy song? Brusdar Graterol. It has a certain rhythm to it. I've haven't been this hooked on a name since Italian horror director Lamberto Bava got his name stuck in my head. Also, Boof Bonser.
As I write this, I still feel hopeful for the Twins. The season has barely begun, and there's a lot about the team to be excited about. Maybe the bats will come back on the road trip. Maybe the bullpen will settle in a little bit. I want to see more Nick Gordon, because I've decided to be unapologetically excited about him regardless of stats and sensibility. I'll be there for all of it, monitoring the GameDay app and wondering what baseball would look like if I could actually watch it.