Ope, Didn't Mean to Let You Have Hope

There was a time, not so long ago, that the Minnesota Twins fanbase knew only one outcome. For close to two decades, no amount of momentum or excellence could counter the brick wall that awaited them in the postseason.

Eighteen consecutive times, the Twins threw all they had at that wall. They chipped, scraped, clawed, and flung themselves at it. In so many moments, it looked like they were through. But in the end, they were left unable to breach it, and in the aftermath, we were left scarred by the futility of it all.

Subsequently, even in the brightest moments of the regular season, the joy to be found was tinged with a sadness that it was only temporary. ‘Buy-in’ wasn’t feasible anymore, when even the mightiest lineups could be left without answers as soon as the postseason began. How can you get excited about a franchise when it seems to be governed by a completely different set of natural laws in October?

And then, 2023 happened. 

It was glorious, that brief moment in time. Twins players, some homegrown heroes, finally seemed to acknowledge how this ignominy had affected the fans, and responded by righteously seizing the moment. Pablo López reminded us how to believe in Minnesota. Royce Lewis put the offense on his back. Carlos Correa served as the defensive linchpin we knew him to be, and Jhoan Duran violently shut the door on the Toronto Blue Jays as the stadium lost its mind. It was a cleansing catharsis. We sobbed tears of relief we didn’t even remember we had in reserve. We saw with our own eyes what we refused to believe for so long: that victory was possible. And not just once, or twice, but three times! The Twins walked onto Target Field having split the first two games in Houston, possessing home-field advantage, and actually internalizing the idea that in the end, a path was laid in front of us all that didn’t lead to heartbreak.

No, the 2023 Twins didn’t bring home a trophy. But out of that ordeal, we were given a gift that might be just as valuable: being unburdened, by the notion that October baseball didn’t come with a pre-ordained outcome.

A resurgent team, a beautiful ballpark, a fanbase reinvigorated, and an organization primed to continue their hot hand. The wave that had gathered momentum since the hiring of Derek Falvey and Thad Levine in 2016 had finally reached its crest, and breached the first barrier that had stood since 2004. With that milestone achieved, Joe Pohlad and his kin were given the easiest layup in sports. That they could see the Minnesota Twins ascend to unprecedented heights, if they simply stayed the course and allowed the current that had carried them that far to continue pushing them forward.

But we would know the Pohlads’ feelings on the matter just weeks later. Any further progress would be on indefinite hold, in order to get the balance sheets in order, and ‘right-sizing’ was the watchword of the day. Now, 20 months later, with nearly half the roster sold and the franchise all but certain to follow, the fallout of that choice has been realized. It's another sad chapter in the story that’s unfolded since that brief window of euphoria.

Having been starved for financial support and paralyzed by a possible sale, Falvey has built a major-league roster that is now a shadow of its former peak. Bringing Correa to Minnesota and securing his long-term future was undoubtedly the signature achievement of the Twins front office, something Falvey could point to as proof that his mission was to not settle for playing the role of a small-market underdog. But surely, the game plan was that reinforcements would be needed to support the largest free-agent deal in franchise history, rather than serving as the final piece needed for contention. Now, a salary dump sending Correa back to the Astros serves as a depressing bookend to the Josh Donaldson fiasco, a move which helped free the resources to bring Correa to town in the first place.

Along with Correa, nine other players have been shipped to every corner of the league, and the quotes from current and former players alike have taken a sour tone. Rocco Baldelli’s clubhouse has never been a safe harbor for toxicity, but one has to believe he has the hardest test of his managerial tenure in front of him to close out this lost season.

Was this flurry of trades the right decision from a strategic perspective? Divorced from the emotion of the moment, I’m sure a strong argument is there. Many words have already been spilled on the core pieces that remain, the impermanence of what was lost, and how none of this should be regarded as a true rebuild. But I cannot shake the feeling that as the 2025 season is written off, we have had one very hard lesson dumped at our collective feet: The pain that we feel now was worth the money to someone else.

[Ed. note: Chris posted this on his blog here at TD, initially. We're moving it to the front page, with his permission, but go check out his work in that section, too.]