Miguel Sano is the AL Player of the Week. Baseballs scream at night for their baseball parents to make sure Miguel Sano isn't under their bed. As I write this, the Twins have a winning schedule.

Good. Because let's face it, none of us are happy about anyone else.

The dam of Internet puppies and kitties finally busted. Log on to social media and drown in smarm and misery. Tyler Durden once wondered how far clever would get a person, and I think we found out. I don't know about you, but the amount of time I spend on social media is less about having fun and more about my gag reflex being able to keep the bile down.

Truthfully, God bless baseball. It's been the calm smile in a crazy world for over a century. It survived wars and miseries. They may fancy it up, but you can still get a hot dog and beer (grudgingly acknowledging this beer will probably be a triple-hop aged horseradish-infused microbrew aged in a vat made of sentient wood). Baseball has the nicknames and the dingers.

When the Twilight of the Gods comes, I'd like to think there will be one last pitcher taking the mound against the uncoming tide of endless darkness. Question is, has that pitcher been born yet?

It's all so damned depressing I'd almost do the stupid-ass wave for a distraction.