History in the Air, Twins Hits Stay in the Yard (Twins 0 Tigers 4 Game 63)
The Twins played tonight, in as much as an official game occurred and they were there.
At least people at Target Field got to see Eddie Guardado and PR guy Tom Mee get inducted into the Twins Hall of Fame.
I listened to the first inning in my backyard, until the mosquitoes ran up the scoreboard in a hellish game of their own. I listened deeper into the game inside my house. I listened past Eddie Guardado’s time in the radio booth. Then Scott Diamond wrote “The End” on the game in the sixth inning and I went looking for a snack.
Guardado’s time on the air (and, from what I hear, his speech at the ceremony) served as a warning about the cutting power of nostalgia. No doubt the grownup fans in baseball jerseys know what he’s talking about.
The boys of summer find their way to fall, as do we all.
It’s already June, and the summer’s going by quick. Maybe that’s why fans hold on to the moment a little bit longer by pretending every fly ball will grow up to be a home run.
Didja Hear the One . . . (Twins 6 Tigers 3 -- Game 64)
When I left with my wife to wrestle around with a friend’s puppy for the evening, we drove past Target Field in the pouring rain.
“Do they think they’re playing a game tonight?” my wife asked.
The sun came back, and they did play. I missed out on seeing Plouffe pick up a bat and smash his way out of the doghouse – even if just for one day.
Can’t believe the entire game got past me without me even checking up on my phone.
But with summer finally behaving like it ought to, time speeds up. The chase for BreakEvening is important to me, but it couldn’t beat a chocolate lab puppy splashing through puddles tonight.
A Game of Catch (Twins 5 Tigers 2 -- Game 65)
It’s Father’s Day, and that always reminds me I was not ready for baseball when I was younger. My dad went out and tossed the ball with me, despite all of the crying and hiding from the ball.
The only run I scored in Little League happened because I accidentally kicked the ball out of the third basemen’s mitt. I found this out after I crossed the plate, began celebrating, and was greeted by giggling, embarrassed teammates.
Baseball is an incredibly grown-up game for little tykes, isn’t it? Their foibles between the bases are adorable when you’ve grown past T-ball and kids playing “rover.” But when you’re wearing a hat and jeans and praying the giant kid doesn’t smash a line drive through your eye socket? The fear and shame don’t have the same charm.
On this Father’s Day, the Twins gave their fans the baseball equivalent of an ugly necktie. Dozier hit a home run to prove he still had a pulse, something he does like a teenager calls home to check in before curfew. The other team’s pitcher arrived on time and stayed late, and the Twins bats were unable to send him home early.