Matt Braun

I'm glad you mentioned Rick Wise because there's an important caveat I should have mentioned with the comps: they're all based on age. So when you see "Rick Wise," PECOTA isn't talking about the All-Star, but rather, the mid-30s Wise who was useful but certainly not the guy he was a few years prior.

I don't know. I think the trouble is that Funderburk has options remaining, and projection systems have no idea what to do with a guy who isn't firmly entrenched in the roster. It's probably assuming that Thielbar and Okert will net the lion's share of lefty innings.

For number 2: Canterino is projected for about 25 innings, and Funderburk is at 29. Kody's projected ERA and FIP are quite good (3.91 and 3.82), so, yes, their totals are related to innings.

What does Baseball Prospectus’s flagship projection system think of Minnesota’s hurlers? Image courtesy of © Tommy Gilligan-USA TODAY Sports The end of the Super Bowl means two things: pitchers and catchers reporting to spring training, and projection season. Teams are finished touching up their roster (sans a notable quartet of free agents still available), allowing our not-quite-yet robot overlords to offer their opinions on each squad. I previously reviewed PECOTA’s predictions for the 2023 team here, and the articles about the pitching and hitting projections can be found here and here, respectively, along with a short description of what any of this is. Let’s wait no more, here are Minnesota’s top 12 projected pitchers. (Other notable projected pitchers include Kody Funderburk (0.3 WARP), Jay Jackson (0.2), and Matt Canterino (0.2).) Edit: I also forgot that Steven Okert shows up as a Marlin in the spreadsheet; his projection is a 3.94 ERA, a 4.11 FIP, and 0.5 WARP. That Pablo López comes in as the best pitcher on the team is no surprise; PECOTA pegged him as a top-tier arm last year, and he only reinforced the system's confidence with his best all-around year to date. PECOTA only sees 10 other pitchers accruing more WARP in 2024. Then, Joe Ryan. Man, PECOTA loves Joe Ryan. He had an eyebrow-raisingly high projection heading into 2022, and ranked solidly last year. It’s hard not to love his ability to combine an elite strikeout rate with an abnormally low walk rate; projections eat that skillset up. I think his relatively new home run problem gives the computer hope that it’s a fluke, not a sudden slide into late-career Bert Blyleven “all systems go” territory. Bailey Ober rounds out the trio that, according to PECOTA, gives the Twins three of the 40 best pitchers in MLB. Yet again, projections love guys who can whiff hitters while keeping the walks low—and Ober’s increased workload in 2023 increased confidence in him staying healthy moving forward. Jhoan Durán earns the best projection among all MLB relievers. His odd command downslide in 2023 did not portend disaster: he still struck out everyone and their mother and upped his groundball rate to 65.9%. Much like low walk rates, projection systems adore pitchers able to induce grounders at an elevated clip. When matched with elite strikeout production, few other relief arms can touch Durán. The last thing I want to touch on is the two final arms. Dan Szymborski talked about the Brock Stewart conundrum in his piece here, in which he explains the deviation surrounding Stewart has to do with sample size: how can you project a 32-year-old who missed three MLB seasons, entered the year with a negative career WAR, and then mowed down guys like prime Joe Nathan? Simple: assume regression. Now, Szymborski points out that Stewart’s underlying numbers—mainly a 20% swinging-strike rate on all pitches and a 60.6% contact rate on swings—are hard to fake, giving legitimate credence to his success. Still, it’s going to take a few years for any projection system to believe in him. (You can essentially say the same thing about Justin Topa, who didn’t shed rookie eligibility until his age-32 (!!!) season. How do you project something that almost never happens?) Everything passes the smell test here. Minnesota’s big three look solid, but their back-end depth is a little scary, and the sleeping dragon nestled in the back of their bullpen should drive what appears to be a deep unit. If you would like to see any of this PECOTA stuff yourself, consider heading over to Baseball Prospectus's website to subscribe and read some of the best baseball writing in the business. Their alumni include Brandon Warne and Aaron Gleeman, and our editor, Matthew Trueblood, writes pieces for them as well. No one told me to write this; I truly believe they are one the best resources for analytical and creative baseball thinking currently in operation. What stands out most to you in these projections? Where would you place more faith, or less? Spark a discussion in the comments, below. View full article

Join us in argument as we count down the greatest Twins teams in history, as voted on by the Twins Daily writers. Today: the first-ranked team. Image courtesy of Thiéres Rabelo The post-World Series journey for the Twins had been strange. The magic wasn’t there in 1988, despite an improved record for the team, and the following two seasons saw a direct plunge into mediocrity. Frank Viola now played in New York, Bert Blyleven in California. No pitcher from the squad that became immortal still called Minnesota home. Perhaps, it seemed, the team saw its moment come and go without even realizing their time was up. Perhaps, though, some new heroes could establish themselves. The disappearance of old legends doesn’t stop new ones from arriving. Still armed with their two main protagonists—Kirby Puckett and Kent Hrbek—the 1991 Twins grew from their previous muck, overcoming their malaise to lead the team into a second glorious apex. Lineup Any Twins lineup from this era starts with two men: Puckett and Hrbek. Puckett, Minnesota’s first cultural superstar since Rod Carew left town, was still firmly in his prime. His .319/.352/.460 line sent him to his 378th All-Star game, and he would eventually earn back the Gold Glove he lost in 1990, the 5th of his six career honors. Sure, he lacked the power a more youthful Puckett enjoyed before 1989, yet few forces at the top of a lineup were more intimidating than the 5’8” outfielder from Triton College. Hrbek wasn’t quite at his peak, but he was damn close: the first baseman’s slugging percentage took a final nosedive below the .500 mark the previous year, leaving him more reliant on his tremendous plate discipline. Fortunately, that was still intact; Hrbek walked more than he struck out for the 5th straight year of his career. Neither were statistically the best hitters on the team, though. Minnesota took a risk on a talented yet inconsistent outfielder from the Padres the previous season, deciding that Shane Mack’s potential hitting brilliance was too tempting to watch wallow in the minors. They were correct. Mack slashed .326/.392/.460 in a part-time role in 1990, leading manager Tom Kelly to unleash him as the most overqualified seven-hitter in baseball. Not far behind Mack was Chili Davis, the best-hired gun in the league. Davis played for five different teams; he crushed with all five. The switch-hitting Jamaican native became an assassin out of the DH spot for the team, slashing .277/.385/.507 in a season that saw him earn down-ballot support for MVP. The most famous season of any Twin batter, though, easily goes to second-baseman and Rookie of the Year winner Chuck Knoblauch. Minnesota’s 1st-round pick just two years ago blitzed through the minors, skipping AAA entirely to provide a jolt from a position previously handled by the tepid bats of Al Newman, Wally Backman, and Steve Lombardozzi. Tim Teuful’s OPS+ of 97 in 1985 looked downright Bonds-ian compared to Minnesota’s typical production at second. Knoblauch only knocked one regular season homer for the team, but he reached base at a .351 clip and swiped enough bases to make him the platonic idea of a gritty number two hitter. Overall, the Twins in 91 held the 3rd-best wRC+ in MLB with a 107 mark, scored the 4th-most runs in the league and claimed the highest batting average and on-base percentage amongst all 26 teams. Perhaps most impressive is that the team bopped a top-10 140 homers while still striking out at just a 12% clip; that’s a special combination of hitting ability. Pitching The dealing above of Sweet Music to the Mets netted a few critical parts of the team’s pitching machine -- namely, the mercurial play of the Upper Kevin Tapani. Once a member of Minnesota’s Young Guns, Tapani crossed the crucial bridge connecting potential to results, turning in a tremendous 244-inning, 2.99 ERA season that earned him a seventh-place finish in the AL Cy Young voting. He would have finished higher if not for two of his rotation mates: Jack Morris and Scott Erickson. Erickson was even younger than Tapani—just 23 for the season—when he made his sudden ascent into baseball superstardom. He won 20 games, the best in the league, back when that mattered, and finished a distant second to Roger Clemens, who claimed the third Cy Young win of his short career. Morris. Well, you know Morris; the St. Paul native spent most of the 80s spanking the Twins on some loaded Tigers squad; he pitched to a 3.33 ERA against the team in his career and allowed just a .627 OPS, both the lowest of any team he faced. Morris was 36 now, though, and fresh off a season that saw him lead the league in earned runs. Detroit had offered the veteran a three-year deal for more guaranteed money, but the righty decided to head home and pitch for his hometown squad with the hopes of a rebound parlaying into a potentially bigger deal the following year. His season was incredible; he made his fifth and final All-Star game while posting his lowest ERA (3.43) since 1987. The Minnesota bullpen was a two-headed monster, three, if you want to be generous. Rick Aguilara—also one of the return players from the Viola trade—was a moderately successful starter who evolved into a ferocious back-of-the-bullpen force for the Twins. In 11 seasons, in almost 700 innings, Aguilera notched an ERA+ of 130, a nearly unheard-of consistency from a reliever. He also made three All-Star games. 1991 was one of them, and for good reason, he saved 42 games with a 2.35 ERA. Carl Willis’ path to Minnesota’s pen was certainly far rockier. Nowadays, you can see him talking to Shane Bieber or Triston McKenzie, stony-eyed and crusty as Cleveland’s longtime ace pitching coach, but his time in baseball once appeared short. He barely pitched in MLB between 1987 and 1990, with just a 12-inning foray on a hilariously forgettable 1988 White Sox team serving as his only time in the bigs. He jumped from organizations like CCR released albums. Then, he signed a deal with the Twins, dominated AAA, and became a rock for the team. He was a long-relief specialist, gobbling 89 innings in just 40 games as Tom Kelly often looked to him to move the game from the middle to the late innings drama-free. His ERA was 2.63. Drama rarely occurred. That left Terry Leach as the only other consistent reliever with an above-average ERA. The late-blooming righty served as Aguilera’s setup man—and he did job well, totaling a 3.61 ERA with just two blown saves. Depth problems caused both the rotation and bullpen to scrape by into being top-10 units in the league, but few could claim the kind of top-end performance of Minnesota’s unit. Postseason The Twins won 95 games, the best in the AL in an abnormally equal season; 11 AL squads finished at .500 or better. That set them up to face the Toronto Blue Jays in the ALCS. spearheaded by ace Dave Stieb, Toronto was smack-dab in the middle of a shocking run of competency and consistency from a franchise that had not existed until 1977. They were sometimes solid, but Cito Gaston at the manager’s helm seemed to be the tweak they needed; he would take them to back-to-back World Series wins in 1992 and 1993. In 1991, though, the Twins were a force they couldn’t handle. Minnesota took Game One in a squeaker before the Blue Jays knotted the series in a Game Two victory over Tapani. Then, the Twins waltzed into Canada and took the final three games, ending the series with decisive wins. Kirby Puckett earned MVP honors by slashing .429/.435/.762. The win made the World Series a battle against another worst-to-first team: the Atlanta Braves. No one knew it then, but the Braves would soon become the unofficial team of the 90s, collecting an absurd amount of Hall of Fame talent on their way to five World Series matchups. Their pull? Three Hall of Fame starting pitchers: Greg Maddux, John Smoltz, and Tom Glavine. In 1991, though, Glavine was simply a first-time All-Star (and soon-to-be Cy Young winner), Smoltz was a talented yet frustrating youngster, and Greg Maddux was… a Cub, two years away from making potentially the most critical free agent decision in baseball history. Don’t think that made Atlanta pushovers; 34-year-old Charlie Leibrandt could still plant his changeup directly on the low outside corner against righties, and third baseman Terry Pendleton hit .319 on his way toward winning the NL MVP. They even enjoyed a dominant closing season from a Twin on the 87 squad, Juan Berenguer. Minnesota claimed Game One and Two off the backs of suffocating starts from Jack Morris and Kevin Tapani. Aided in the Tapani effort was Ron Gant’s clumsiness at first base when attempting to return to the bag; fortunately, Hrbek was right there to stop Gant from falling to the ground and potentially injuring himself. The home run bats proved the difference offensively, with Greg Gagne, Kent Hrbek, Chili Davis, and Scott Leius blasting homers in the wins. Then came the first non-artificial turf games of the Twins’ playoff run. They probably would have preferred to stay with science. The team lost a 12-inning Game Three when a largely ineffective Scott Erickson start begat a late-inning rally eventually negated by Mark Lemke’s walk-off single. Game Four was another one-run stinger, and Game Five need not be discussed. That set up the Twins with the same ultimatum pushed on them four years prior: they could not afford to lose a single game the rest of the way, but the friendly, bright atmosphere of the Metrodome could guide them in the final two games. Game Six would have been a classic no matter how it ended: Erickson rebounded somewhat to give Minnesota six cromulent frames as Steve Avery followed with an almost identical line. Although his start would have been worse had Puckett not made an incredible catch from the Metrodrome’s rafters to steal an extra-base hit from Gant. The even play pushed the game into extras. Mike Stanton and Alejandro Pena’s outstanding multi-inning relief outings matched the ones from Carl Willis and Rick Aguilera; Kirby Puckett’s steal of 2nd constituted the only time a runner reached beyond 1st once the top of the 7th ended. In a surprising move, Braves Manager Bobby Cox decided to call upon Leibrandt to be the man to continue the extra-inning odyssey. The lefty would be many things in his long MLB career; a reliever was not one of them -- he would pitch out of the bullpen just 48 times in over the course of his time in the majors. Naturally, the man to first face Leibrandt was Puckett—Minnesota’s long-time hero. He took three pitches before Leibrandt delivered a lethargic changeup, a pitch that more resembled the sort of lofted tennis ball toss one offers to their dog. Pucket swung and crushed the pitch. He didn’t realize what he had done until he noticed 1st base coach Wayne Terwilliger throw up his arms in celebration. There would be a tomorrow night. Somehow, that was only the introduction to the most incredible game in World Series history. Smoltz. Morris. Game Seven. The words have been spilled over and over so much that attempting to recapture the pure, maniacal magic of the moment would be like trying to re-shoot Citizen Kane. The brilliance is simple: 7 ⅓ shutout frames from the youngster Smoltz countered by ten gee-dee shutout innings by Morris. Superhuman doesn’t cover it; Morris refused to allow his team to lose. Dan Gladden started the 10th with a hustle double, and Gene Larkin hit him home to conclude potentially the best World Series in baseball history. Concluding Thoughts Well, after writing all that, it is hard to argue against this team, huh? That “1991” is still common in baseball vernacular places the squad in rarefied air. Entire franchises will rise and fall before seeing an outcome that can even come close to challenging this World Series in dramatics and theater. But—yeah, you had to have seen this coming—I think we need to separate the series from the quality of the team. The Twins were an undeniably good offense, but the pitching staff was very top-heavy and could barely qualify as a top-10 unit in a league with only 26 teams. The pure, hard stats point towards the 1965 team as being better. That said, I’m open to considering an emotional appeal based on the raw production value of the postseason. Humans love a good story, after all. "Greatest team? Probably not, but the playoffs are where legends are made and anyone associated with those two championships is considered a deity." -Seth Stohs "Kirby, Jack, best WS ever." -Hans Birkeland "Now here’s a World Series champion that lives up to the billing. The ‘91 club winning 95 games is nothing to sneeze at in its own right, but they actually got off to a slow start that season. From June on, they went 72-42, which is a 102-win pace. They finished with the best record in the AL and were a legit juggernaut, unlike the plucky underdog ‘87 club. Scott Erickson was runner-up to Roger Clemens in AL Cy Young voting while Jack Morris finished fourth. Chuck Knoblauch was Rookie of the Year." -Tom Froemming "This is unarguably the greatest Twins team in my mind, It's hard to argue against a World Series-winning team being the best in franchise history, and almost everyone would agree that the '91 team is better than the '87 team." -Cody Schoenmann Previous Entries #10 - 2010 #9 - 2023 #8 - 2002 #7 - 1970 #6 - 2019 #5 - 2006 #4 - 1969 #3 - 1987 #2 - 1965 Honorable Mentions View full article

Join us in argument as we count down the greatest Twins teams in history, as voted on by the Twins Daily writers. Today: the second-ranked team. Overview The early '60s Twins were shockingly talented for a team that had freshly arrived in a new city. The 1961 team—the first one officially known as “the Twins”—featured two future MVPs in the lineup (Harmon Killebrew and Zoilo Versalles), and an eventual Hall-of-Famer in the rotation (Jim Kaat). Times were pretty good, better than they should have been. But Mickey Mantle was smack dab in the middle of his goliath destruction of AL pitching, and the rest of the team around him was pretty good. Those Yankees won the pennant every year from 1960-1964, often cracking 100 wins in the process. They rejected a pair of solid Twins squads in 1962 and 1963, and a down year in 1964 meant the team never came close to a serious run at the World Series. So, with oodles of talent—and enough classic names to fill a history book—the 1965 Twins set off on their greatest adventure yet, decimating the league with shocking efficiency. Lineup Minnesota saw seven separate regulars post an OPS+ of at least 115 on their way to scoring nearly 100 runs more than their closest AL competitor*. Killebrew led the group with a pedestrian-for-him 145 mark, while Tony Oliva finished just a few points lower at 141. Yes, how new: a 1960s Twins team had Killebrew and Oliva as the best contributors. What did stand out about this team was the breadth of stud hitters behind those two. Don Mincher—one of the underappreciated sluggers of his time—cracked 22 home runs and led the league in intentional walks with 15. Not bad for a guy who was almost strictly a pinch-hitter until June. Earl Battey was his typical, reliable self, enjoying the 3rd-best OPS+ of his career (119). Bob Allison was much the same—although his numbers did dip from the skyscraping highs they stood at the two years prior. And then there was Jimmie Hall. Hall has been lost to time somewhat, forgotten in the great churn of baseball players. The ones who remember him are few and likely don’t find themselves in the company of people who care much to know about him. But, dammit, he owns one of the most fascinating career arcs in baseball history. Norm King, writing for SABR, briefly summarizes Hall’s odyssey: “Hall burst on the scene with a bang with the Minnesota Twins in 1963. Actually, he had 33 of them, which broke Ted Williams’s AL record for home runs by a first-year player who had never batted in his rookie year. Yes, THAT Ted Williams! But after five seasons that ranged from respectable to excellent, Hall hit seven home runs in his last three campaigns and then disappeared from the game.”** Hall was still in the midst of that great run in 1965; he essentially matched his line from the previous year but also added 14 steals and sliced a solid chunk off his strikeout rate. But the man of the year was Zoilo Versalles. He reached his baseball apex, leading the league in runs, doubles, triples, and total bases while playing Gold Glove defense at shortstop. He also stole 27 bases, because why the hell not? In all but seven games, Versalles was the first Twin the opposing starting pitcher battled that day. Oh, and Versalles is perhaps an even more bizarre case than Hall. Steve Treder dedicated an extended piece at The Hardball Times to ancillary figures in the margins of baseball's strange sudden drop-offs, with Versalles serving as his main character (and Hall as a sidekick). He writes: “[1965] was a lofty perch, and Versalles’ fall was immediate and sickening. In 1966, he saw his batting average drop by 24 points while producing fewer than half as many extra-base hits as in ’65: his Isolated Power went from .189 to .095. He went from a 27-for-32 base stealer to 10-for-22. He went from 32 Win Shares to 12. And he was just getting started.”*** Two years later, Zoilo was a Dodger, and three years after that, he took his final at-bat in the big leagues. Pitching The Twins weren’t as great at pitching as they were at hitting, but they were close. Their 114 team ERA+ was the 4th-best in the majors, and the second-best in the AL, only just beaten by the Orioles. The rotation saw one of the better years of Jim Kaat’s Hall-of-Fame career. Mudcat Grant backed him up with his second (and final) All-Star season; he won 21 games and finished 6th in the MVP vote despite a pedestrian ERA by his standards. The rest of the starting staff was an assortment of chewed gum and sawdust, a smorgasbord of arms used whenever manager Sam Mele needed the man behind the ligament to eat innings for him. The horribly underrated and typically excellent Camilo Pascual toughed through shoulder tightness—and a nearly three-month-long run without a win—to toss “just” 156 frames. The injury helped push veteran Jim Perry into the starting rotation (where he probably should have been), and he excelled, carrying a 2.63 ERA, the third-lowest of his career. The search for arms was desperate enough that eclectic names like Dwight Siebler and Mel Nelson earned starts as Mele tried anything to get his staff going. Fortunately, the manager knew he had two studs at the back of his bullpen: Johnny Klippstein and Al Worthington. The two had been big leaguers since the Truman and Eisenhower administrations, respectively. Worthington—a man of such conviction that one of his former employers once jettisoned the righty for disagreeing with their sign-stealing system—joined Minnesota as a spry 35-year-old the previous season and would continue to pitch very effectively for the team into his age 40 seasons.*** The now 94-year-old is still kicking and was recently inducted into the Virginia Baseball Coaches Association Hall-of-Fame for his work at Liberty College.**** Klippstein also became a Twin in 1964; 1965 was his best full season with the team; he held a 2.24 ERA and occasionally spelled Worthington in closing situations. Postseason Because this was 1965, the Twins had a simple playoff itinerary: go play the Dodgers for the World Series. LA enjoyed the late-blooming talents of Maury Wills, the truncated Hall-of-Fame arm of Don Drysdale, and the rookie of the year credentials of Jim Lefebvre. But, every other player was window dressing to the resplendent, radiant Sandy Koufax. Baseball had never seen a pitcher so dominant since Cy Young walked off the mound for the final time. His regal excellence shone as brightly in 1965 as they had in any other year; it would take Nolan Ryan’s superhuman power for a mortal to best Koufax’s strikeout total from this season (382). He threw MLB's eighth perfect game just one month prior. Minnesota claimed the first two games in outstanding fashion. An 8-2 drumming of Drysdale started the series before the team outlasted Koufax in Game Two, instead cracking Ron Perranoski for a trio of runs to back up Kaat in a complete game. LA won the next three games in their home—all of them as perplexingly convincing as the victories the Twins earned. Game Six knotted the series when Bob Allison and Mudcat Grant—yes, the pitcher—both crushed homers in a Grant complete game, setting up Game Seven as the ultimate do-or-die. Unfortunately for the Twins, Koufax was still very much an outlandish pitching force; he struck out 10 in a complete game shutout to claim the Dodgers’ third championship since moving west. Concluding Thoughts I think there’s a very strong argument this team should be #1. No Twins team has won more regular season games, and their offense, relative to the league average, was tremendous. They didn’t even get a full season out of Harmon Killebrew! It didn’t matter; Minnesota still lapped the AL field in scoring. Sure, they could have pitched better. If you’re splitting hairs, like we have to do in this endeavor, then Kaat is merely a solid ace, not a Frank Viola-type capable of constantly single-handedly shutting down a game. Their best bet for that player may have actually been Jim Perry, who absolutely should have started more than he did. Still, 102 wins and by far the best run differential in MLB sure looks like an all-time team to me. I think if they win that Game Seven, then there really isn’t a discussion. They take the mantle over any other team. So, should we let one simple game stand between appreciating greatness and ranking a 95-win team above them? I don’t know. "The legends on that team are just remarkable. Killebrew. Oliva. Allison. Zoilo's MVP season, which could have been Tony O's. Kaat was great. Grant was incredible. Again, just a legendary group. And they won 102 games." -Seth Stohs "It was before my time, but I can’t imagine how exciting it must have been to go from not having Major League Baseball in Minnesota to hosting the World Series in less than five years. This team won 102 games, still a franchise record. Zoilo Versalles and Tony Olive finished 1-2 in AL MVP voting. If it wasn’t for Sandy Koufax, this team would have been world champs and probably in the top spot on this list." -Tom Froemming "This is probably the best Twins team, but they didn't win the World Series, which I think rightfully holds a lot of weight. If this team had won the World Series, they likely would have been number one of this list." -Cody Schoenmann Previous Entries #10 - 2010 #9 - 2023 #8 - 2002 #7 - 1970 #6 - 2019 #5 - 2006 #4 - 1969 #3 - 1987 Honorable Mentions Sources *774, to be exact. Detroit scored 680. King, Norm, "Jimmie Hall," SABR. Tredder, Steve, "Of Fades, Flops, and Zoilo," The Hardball Times, November 23rd, 2004. Laurila, David, "Sunday Notes: Kody Clemens Has Grown Into His Pop," Fangraphs, February 13th, 2022. Liberty Flames, "Former Liberty Head Baseball Coach Al Worthington to be Inducted into the VBCA Hall of Fame," December 7th, 2023. View full article

The promise of a finer future may hinder our relationship with the present. Image courtesy of © Erik Williams-USA TODAY Sports Sports are a future endeavor. It draws excitement not necessarily from what just happened but—rather—what soon may occur. There’s always a special unbearable hunk-of-iron-in-your-chest feeling when watching a reliever work with runners on, late, as he tries to navigate a mess without ruining what took the rest of the team a few hours to build. That’s the draw: the same emotions that make you pace the room and mutter profanities bring you back the next day, hoping that tonight’s conflict and resolution are just as awesome as the one that came before. As I’m writing this article, the Detroit Lions blew a 24-7 lead in the NFC Championship in truly excruciating fashion. They bungled a 4th down, watched the 49ers enjoy a miracle touchdown drive helped by some Drew Pearson-esque tip drill luck, and then cratered completely when their running back fumbled to set up San Francisco with a field so short they could have fallen over forward and scored. It was brutal. Their head coach, Dan Campbell—perhaps the wisest football man to be packed into such a beefy meat suit—offered an insight you don’t often hear from coaches. “This may have been our only shot,” he told the media. “Do I believe that? No. However, I know how hard it is to get here, and it’s going to be twice as hard to get back to this point next year,” he continued. Campbell gave these quotes knowing that his ace offensive coordinator was gone, in all but physical presence, while his QB will likely double his salary cap hit with a new contract this offseason. ------------------------------------- The common refrain following a finished season for a team expected to lose much earlier is one of faint praise. “They’ll be back next year,” one may declare. “They were playing with house money,” or "this is just the start of their window." These are valiant predictions, offerings of respect meant to soothe the pain caused by a loss no less stinging than it would have been given higher expectations. They rest upon the foundation of sports knowledge that fuels each and every fan: that next year can always be better. Yet, they forget the other side of that card: next year can always be worse. Success is—to everyone except the Bill Belichick and Tom Brady Patriots—slippery, even fleeting. A new year brings new people, new vibes. The previous season’s labor is scrubbed from the immediate record books, forcing every player, team, coach, and executive to start at the same place as everyone else: 0-0. The new season cares not for the previous one’s ventures—nor does it offer rewards for its positives. The same pitfalls expertly navigated can suddenly prove impossible to traverse, cutting short a winning line that seemed potentially endless just a few months ago. It’s as if—after coming painfully close to finishing a challenging platform game—you were knocked back to the start. And now Sonny Gray is a Cardinal. Also, the team has no more money. There’s an ethos to sports culture that declares anyone but the winner irrelevant. Never mind forward steps and progress; all who fell short must be ignored and treated as lesser beings. This myopia may miss some true beauty: the spectacle of rare, individual successes, the tiny little gifts once only rarely observed by the fans of whatever team finally turned it around. Perhaps their ultimate failures are disappointing, but there should be value in reaching the plateau in the first place. Should we ever believe that Royce Lewis’s postseason homers and Pablo López’s seven shutout in Houston stand as meaningless accomplishments? I think these moments have a lot to offer. They represent the tangible, realized finality of a team whose foundation was built some time ago. Their existence isn’t at the whims of the often careless forces that watch and guide our sports through their seasons. Their memories cannot be altered or erased. Building optimism for the future isn’t a bad thing. Lions fans could tell you if they didn’t have that critical thought, they likely would have given up years ago and become monks. But always looking forward can cause you to miss the present—and sometime down the road, you may realize the golden future never came. Tomorrow never knows; today is all we can experience. View full article

Join us in argument as we count down the greatest Twins teams in history, as voted on by the Twins Daily writers. Today: the third-ranked team. Image courtesy of Thiéres Rabelo Overview Minnesota was wandering. For what felt like 40 years, the Twins navigated the baseball landscape with little success, only finding desert between occasional small oases. Their last great team—the 1970 group that fell to the Baltimore dynasty—might as well have been in a different century; the last 15 seasons bore a handful of above-average years along with the kind of absolutely dreadful baseball they don’t recommend for young children or for those with a sensitive disposition. But losing stops eventually. Talent always finds a way. Homeborn and homegrown All-Star Kent Hrbek has been a thumping force in the lineup since 1982, providing a legitimate power threat to a team known for a dearth of muscle. Frank Viola, who once led all of MLB in earned runs allowed, flashed potential; he finished sixth in the Cy Young vote in 1984. And, critically, the Twins had a true star, a player as great as his popularity. His constant presence on All-Star rosters and MVP voter ballots could only be matched by his television appearances and iconic, broad smile. Minnesota had Kirby Puckett. Somehow, those three—along with full-time first-year manager Tom Kelly—helped carry a ragtag assortment of complimentary pieces to the team’s first World Series victory—and one of the most unlikely championship wins in recent history. Lineup The 1987 Twins offense was top-heavy but otherwise solid. They were 16th in MLB in batting average, 15th in on-base percentage, and 8th in slugging. That led to an offense 10th in runs—a number made a little less impressive in the context of a 26-team league. Nonetheless, there were bright spots: the aforementioned Hrbek turned into another excellent season in his remarkably consistent career, slashing .285/.389/.545 with a career-high 34 homers. Puckett wasn’t far behind; his OPS also crossed the .900 threshold. Puckett preferred a more democratic hit-oriented approach than his first-base counterpart, and the strategy fueled the first of four years leading the league in hits. That's not to say he was a slap-happy weakling; the 5'8" Puckett found a power stroke the previous season, lapping his previous career-high in homers by nearly eightfold while still hanging on to the batting average that made him fascinating in the first place. Tom Brunansky and Gary Gaetti bashed 32 and 31 home runs, respectively, giving the team a trio of boppers with at least 30 bombs in the season. The rest of the lineup… fluctuated. Leadoff duties were mainly split between Dan Gladden and Al Newman, neither of whom hit particularly well that season. Tom Nieto started as the everyday catcher before giving way to a Tim Laudner/Sal Butera combo of adroit defenders and painful hitters. The Roy Smalley and Gene Larkin DH duo proved ineffective enough to necessitate an early September move for former MVP Don Baylor one year before he called an end to his career. Greg Gagne, Randy Bush, and Steve Lombardozzi rounded Kelly’s unusual collection of batters. All in all, the team smoked the 8th-most homers in MLB, mainly thanks to their outstanding quartet of sluggers. Pitching Frank, Bert, and pray for rain isn’t a perfectly precise way to describe the starting rotation—Les Straker deserves credit for pitching at an above-average level—but… there’s a reason why 12 different arms earned a start in 1987. Even the 2023 Twins, a team nestled in the heart of the use-once-and-throw-away meta of pitching, only relied on 10 starters. Viola was a tremendous ace; his Cy Young wouldn’t come until the following season, but his ERA+ of 159 was slightly better than the mark that earned him the award. What changed for the inconsistent but talented lefty? Bryan Lake, writing for SABR, explains that “Viola watched how his teammate, veteran righthander Bert Blyleven, handled adversity without changing his disposition, even when he gave up mammoth home runs. It made [him] think, “Why don’t I just take a lesson from this man?””* When combined with a tweaked changeup, Viola laid waste to AL batters, striking out 197 hitters over 251 ⅔ innings. Then there was Blyleven. The prodigal son returned to Minnesota in 1985, and while he was merely good, no longer superhuman, he could still gobble frames at an astounding rate. The effectiveness came with one downside: homers. The same curveball that eventually carried him to the hall of fame had a nasty habit of hanging out in the heart of the zone; Bert allowed 96 home runs combined between 1986 and 1987, with an unthinkable 50 of those homers leaving in 1986 alone—a major-league record. His 1987 season is 4th. This is where it gets bleak. Straker was serviceable, but Mike Smithson continued his multiple-year slide down the effectiveness slope, and Joe Niekro—when not getting caught for using an emery board—got knocked around with ease. The situation’s darkness necessitated a mid-season deal for another 42-year-old: Steve Carlton. “Lefty” would cruise into the Hall of Fame in a few years as one of the best starters to ever take a baseball mound, but in 1987, his stuff had as much bite as a platypus. His addition did not clarify the mess. The bullpen wasn’t better. An 8th-place finish in the Cy Young race masked the fact that All-Star Jeff Reardon had one of the worst years of his career; he just barely notched an above-average ERA while blowing 10 of his 41 save opportunities. Veterans George Frazier and Keith Atherton added ancillary support in the middle innings. Perhaps Minnesota’s best relief weapon, though, was Juan Berenguer, aka Señor Smoke. The 32-year-old Berenguer joined the team the prior offseason, already laboring under “journeyman” pretenses. His Swiss-army versatility allowed Kelly to use him in any inning, or in any situation. That success begat a bloated September workload, where Berenguer totaled 19 ⅓ frames as the Twins frantically fought for a playoff spot. His 4.66 ERA wasn’t dominant, but the team went 8-5 in those games, providing just enough support to send the squad to the postseason. Postseason The Twins won only 85 games. Four other teams would have topped them in the East. None did so in the West. Thank God for mediocrity. The division win set Minnesota up with a match against the Sparky Anderson Tigers three years removed from their brutal decimation of baseball’s very landscape, when they started the season 35-5, and never wavered through a near-perfect 7-1 playoff route. They weren’t quite as great in 1987, but they were still damn good: Alan Trammell finished 2nd in the MVP race with the most brilliant season his hall-of-fame career produced, Jack Morris was still a consistent All-Star and Cy Young threat, and armed with newcomer Doyle Alexander—who went 9-0 with a 1.53 ERA after Detroit acquired him—the Tigers were formidable and frightening. And the Twins beat them 4-1 in a series that wasn’t ever close. Gary Gaetti belted a pair of identical homers off Alexander in a Game One victory, becoming the first player to hit homers in his first two postseason at-bats, and Bert Blyleven covered 7 ⅓ innings in a Game Two win.** Detroit exacted revenge off Reardon late in Game Three, but Minnesota cleaned up business in Game Four and Five to send the team to their first World Series in 22 years. Their opponent? Perhaps the team that best embodied baseball in the 1980s—the Whitey Herzog Cardinals. In an era of steals and defense, St. Louis ran the dominant strategy to perfection, unleashing hell on the bases with a dynamic trio of Vince Coleman, Ozzie Smith, and Willie McGee. Coleman alone stole an unimaginable 109 bags in 1987. Pitchers were likely better off just allowing him to stroll to 3rd base. Once those men reached base, it was up to the perpetually underrated Jack Clark and future MVP Terry Pendleton to knock them in. They usually did exactly that. Their pitching staff wasn’t the greatest, but Danny Cox, Greg Mathews, Bob Forsch, Joe Magrane, and John Tudor usually kept it close enough for dynamite closer Todd Worrell to shut down games with ease. Games One and Two were lopsided Twins victories. The team drew from the Metrodome’s primal energy all season, absorbing the raucous vigor and jubilant spirits of their fans to fuel a goliath 56-25 home record during the regular season. The World Series, evidently, was no different; Minnesota ambushed St. Louis’ starters early to give the team a dominating 2-0 series lead. The Cardinals were not done: they bested Minnesota in the next three games, oscillating between late-inning squeakers and a crushing Game Four evisceration of Viola to suddenly take the series lead themselves, 3-2. And—just as they did all year—the Twins used their Metrodome mojo to fight back. Tim McCarver astutely noted before Minnesota's return home that he couldn't "really think of a team since the 1961 Yankees who [had] more of a home-field advantage than the Minnesota Twins."*** The series may have pointed towards a St. Louis advantage, but make no mistake: the magic, unseen forces that moved baseball were set to halt their momentum and give the home team the edge. Hrbek blasted an iconic grand slam to center in Game Six to give his team more than enough insurance to fend off elimination for one more day. Then, the lefty ace they relied on all year turned in one final masterpiece: a Game 7 performance only topped by Morris four years later.*** He suffocated the Cardinals over eight dominant innings as Minnesota sprinkled enough runs throughout the game to finally claim the first World Series win for the team since they became the Twins in 1961. Viola was an easy choice for the World Series MVP. Concluding Thoughts To start: yes, this team was lucky. There’s no defending a squad that was outscored in the regular season and only got their shot because the rest of the AL West decided to take a gap year However, I think it would be irresponsible to call their playoff run a product of fortune. The “two aces and power bats” strategy has been a proven winner throughout the years. Viola and Blyleven started nine of the 12 games they played, making the Niekros and Carltons who dragged down their regular season stats irrelevant. The only real shock is that it was Steve Lombardozzi, of all people, who led the hitters in championship WPA for the series, somehow improving their odds by 12.98%. He barely hit in the regular season but clocked a .412 batting average in the World Series! That’s baseball. This was probably the hardest team for me to rank. They forced me to dig at and interrogate the concept of “greatest” in a way that no other team really did. For as good as other, more winning squads were, some just weren’t as set up to win in the playoffs as the 87 team was—mainly because they lacked a true game-altering ace like Frank Viola. Anyway, I think this is the correct ranking, but I easily see this being the team that sparks the most debate. Perhaps that's a good thing. It’s no fun if we think we fully understand what we see. "Two aces and a powerful lineup, just enough Jeff Reardon to overcome a Cardinals team with nothing left." -Hans Birkeland "This was an 85-win team with a negative run differential. Magic? Most definitely. Perhaps the No. 1 team/season in terms of pure enjoyment." -Tom Froemming "Arguably the most surprising World Series-winning team ever. This is when Frank Viola was a true Cy Young candidate (he eventually won in '88). This is in contention with the Bomba Squad in being the most fun team in Twins history, and they have a World Series trophy to show for it." -Cody Schoenmann Previous Entries#10 - 2010#9 - 2023#8 - 2002#7 - 1970#6 - 2019#5 - 2006 #4 - 1969Honorable Mentions Sources Lake, Bryan, "https://sabr.org/bioproj/person/frank-viola/," SABR, 2020. Halsed, Alex, "100 Things Twins Fans Should Know and Do Before They Die," Triumph Books, Chicago, 2016. Gleeman, Aaron, "The Big 50: The Men and Moments That Made the Minnesota Twins," Triumph Books, Chicago, 2018. View full article

Join us in argument as we count down the greatest Twins teams in history, as voted on by the Twins Daily writers. Today: the fourth-ranked team. Image courtesy of Thiéres Rabelo Overview Let’s get this out of the way now. There’s one man synonymous with this season: a certain Alfred Manuel Martin Jr., commonly known as “Billy.” Martin first earned his bread as the feisty second baseman on the Mickey Mantle Yankees of the 1950s. He didn’t hit particularly well, but his spark plug nature and wild card tendencies fed into a knack for World Series victories; Billy claimed five rings as a player. He was loud, chaotic, and—if such a thing exists in sports—Billy was simply a winner. His future managerial career resulted in a .553 winning percentage—a number made even more impressive considering the teams he took over typically stunk the prior season. In 1969, though, Martin was a new skipper looking to turn around the Twins following a rare forgettable season. Cal Ermer proved a feckless replacement for Sam Mele, the man who helmed the team during their glorious run in 1965. The squad still claimed classic talents like Harmon Killebrew and Jim Kaat, along with new stars like Rod Carew and Dean Chance, who both joined the team for the 1967 campaign, in addition to their usual deep cast of complimentary pieces and excellent bullpen options. For one reason or another, they never gelled. Owner Calvin Griffith sensed his dynamite group of athletes couldn’t wait around to figure something out under Ermer. His solution? The former 3rd base coach and one-time manager of the Denver Bears. Lineup Baserunning was one of the core tenets of Billy Martin’s strategy. He pounded aggression into his players, emphasizing stolen bases and special attention to taking the extra base whenever possible. Even Harmon Killebrew shed his adherence to stagnation to swipe eight bags, five more than his next-highest season. By season’s end, only the Seattle Pilots, Kansas City Royals, and New York Yankees stole more bases. Perhaps the flashiest steals came from Rod Carew, who stole home on seven separate occasions in 1969. Thom Henninger, in The Pride of Minnesota: The Twins in the Turbulent 1960s, writes that, in the spring, Martin "taught [Carew] to time a pitcher's delivery and start for home from a walking lead when he knew he could make it safely."* The resulting threat netted a handful of free runs and uneasy deliveries from pitchers privy to Carew's desire for theft. No one in the AL scored more runs than the Twins. Killebrew had his best season by OPS+, slashing .276/.427/.584 while leading the league in homers (49), RBIs (140), and walks (145). He took home the AL MVP award over a pair of Orioles thumpers, Boog Powell and Frank Robinson. Carew clocked the first of many (many, many, many) .300 seasons, hitting .332 as Minnesota’s top-of-the-order assassin. Tony Oliva—brilliant as always—led the league in hits and doubles. Yet there was one more major offensive contributor outside of the trio of future Hll-of-Famers: 27-year-old Rich Reese. The Ohioan had technically been around since 1964, but he barely registered as a name to know until 1967. Following a pair of decent seasons, Reese crushed in 1969, hitting .322 with a .513 slugging percent; he hit so well that Killebrew moved to 3rd base to accommodate the newfound force. With shortstop the year prior as the kind of unanswerable question teams loathe to endure, Minnesota made a move for veteran Leo Cárdenas, hoping that his tranquil glove could soothe the previous positional shortcomings. The fit was perfect. Cárdenas enjoyed one of his best seasons at the plate, slashing .280/.353/.388 over 160 games while playing his typical, sanguine defense. The addition also allowed super-utility man César Tovar to forget ever needing to play shortstop, freeing him up to focus most of his play at second base or in center field. A passing glance could render Tovar an easily missed background extra in Minnesota's packed lineup, but Martin saw Tovar as his "little leader," the kind of guy "who got everyone going" at the top of the lineup, and in the clubhouse, as the kind of energy jolt Martin was himself in his playing days.** Pitching That the Twins pitched well in 1969 wasn’t a surprise; exactly who led them that year was. Dean Chance served as the assumed ace, but he battled arm issues, only tossing 88 ⅓ frames after totaling nearly 600 innings between 1967 and 1968; his career soon wound down, with his last major league pitch coming in 1971. Lefty Jim Merritt had been a reliable rotation staple, but he departed to Cincinnati in the trade that brought Cárdenas to Minnesota. Two men stepped up in their wake: Jim Perry and Dave Boswell. Jim, brother of Gaylord, worked as a swingman since joining the Twins in 1963, but he always found himself on the staff outskirts. He started as many as 25 games in two separate seasons, but it took Martin pushing the veteran into a full-time role for Perry to blossom. So he did, eschewing the assumed drop-off from the lowered mound to win 20 games with a 2.82 ERA over 261 ⅔ innings. He earned Minnesota’s first Cy Young award the following season. What fueled the sudden breakout for the 33-year-old? Martin believed aggression was the culprit; he would go to the mound and rile up his hurler, forcing him to challenge hitters instead of pitching around the corners.** The next crucial figure was also a holdover from years past. Dave Boswell owned a terrific curveball and a mercurial spirit as volatile on the blisters that often plagued his right hand. He spent the first few seasons of his major league career as a swingman like Perry—although, starting in 1966, his swings favored the rotation. He dropped his ERA to 3.23 in 1969, won 20 games, gobbled a career-high 256 ⅓ innings, and infamously fought Billy Martin in a bar melee that left him with an inflamed eye. If you ask Billy, Boswell threw the first punch; if you ask Dave, Martin started the fight. In any case, Boswell left for two weeks, banished to his house as punishment. He actually pitched better following the incident, sporting a 2.79 ERA in 12 starts the rest of the way. Don’t look into what lesson this teaches. Outside of Perry and Boswell, Jim Kaat was his usual, reliable self, a young, thin lefty named Tom Hall expanded upon his impressive 1968 debut with an effective year, and Ron Perranoski put forth yet another tremendous season, leading the league with 31 saves; he finished 13th in the MVP vote. Postseason 1969 saw the debut of a new playoff round: the Championship Series. Teams no longer had to be the best in their league; they just had to be the best in their six-team division. Only the Reggie Jackson and Sal Bando A’s threatened Minnesota, but their 88 wins couldn’t touch Minnesota’s 97. The 109-win Orioles were their reward. Baltimore swept the Twins, just as they would do the next season, but the series was close, at least for a time. The Orioles took Game One in a 12-inning nerve-fest that ended when Minnesota spoiled a bases-loaded situation just to watch Paul Blair walk it off with a bunt single. Game Two was even closer: Boswell and Baltimore starter Dave McNally duked it out into the 11th before Perranoski entered to earn the final out of the frame, eventually surrendering his second game-winning hit of the series. Game Three slanted Minnesota’s way after a first-inning score, then turned into an 11-2 drumming, only notable for one crucial decision. Instead of giving Kaat the nod—like fans and Calvin Griffith expected—Martin placed his faith in Bob Miller, who produced all season as a Swiss army knife capable of starting and relieving. Miller’s subsequent implosion, when combined with Martin’s cavalier attitude towards his superior, caused Griffith to can his manager after just one season. It would not be the last time Martin was fired from a managerial position. It wouldn’t even be close to the last. Concluding Thoughts This was a genuinely fun and deep team. The lineup raked, and the pitching staff had plenty of juice even with essentially ⅓ of a season from Chance. They just ran into a buzzsaw. 1969 happened to be the first full year with Earl Weaver manning the helm in Baltimore—and their 109-win juggernaut was probably the best iteration of that team, even if they did fall to the Miracle Mets in the World Series. There’s an alternate future where Minnesota was a little luckier in games one and two, giving them a lead over the Orioles they probably would have kept. But they weren’t. That’s baseball. Anyways, Billy Ball was a tremendous success. This team may be a little overrated, given that Bill Rigney's team in 1970 put forth essentially the same season (which may mean that that team was actually underrated; who's to say), but it's hard to argue against such an iconic and memorable squad. I think this is the perfect placement for this team—it’s exactly where I ranked them—and I’m glad to see our writers agreed. “Carew, Killebrew, and Oliva. Peak Rich Reese. Perry, Kaat, Boswell in the rotation.” -Hans Birkeland “Harmon Killebrew had a career year and finally won MVP. Rod Carew won his first batting title. The Twins won 97 games this year, but were swept by Baltimore in the ALCS. Long before the Yankees, the Orioles were the postseason bully of the Twins.” -Tom Froemming Previous Entries: #10 - 2010 #9 - 2023 #8 - 2002 #7 - 1970 #6 - 2019 #5 - 2006 Honorable Mentions Sources: https://www.baseball-reference.com Henninger, Thom, The Pride of Minnesota: the Twins in the Turbulent 1960s, (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2021.) Martin, Peter and Golenbock, Peter, Number 1, (Dell Publishing Company, New York, 1980.) View full article

To me, the best system maximizes prime talent in a way that splits player movement in an equal way. Essentially: the A’s should have as much of a chance as anyone to sign Aaron Judge when he hit free agency. This doesn’t happen. About 2/3 of the league can be safely ignored when players of a high caliber hit free agency, and the teams in the middle have to be deathly worried about what happens at the back-end of the deals they hand out, rather than be excited for signing a great player. That’s the issue: if Montgomery’s whiff problem proves more fatal than previously estimated, whoops! There goes like four years.

What to do when the heroes are no longer heroic In a different era, Jordan Montgomery, Blake Snell, and Cody Bellinger would have been the crown jewels of a free-agent class. Montgomery, a recent playoff hero; Snell, a Cy Young honoree fresh off his second award; and Bellinger, a bounceback case who showed flashes of the dynamic, tantalizing athleticism that made him a superstar at just age 23. Any of these three players would bring tremendous joy to whatever organization signed them—likely leading their decision-makers to anoint them as saviors in whatever specific overtones they saw fit. But here we are halfway through January, listening to silence on whether any of these men will join a franchise soon. It’s simply a different time now. While those previous descriptions are accurate enough, each player owns an obvious downside. Montgomery strikes out fewer batters than you’d like; Snell’s relationship with the strike zone is often nebulous; and Bellinger’s under-the-hood numbers speak more towards mere goodness rather than greatness. The flaws matter more these days; we know—or think we know—the ideal production shape of a player at each man’s position, and that shape is mighty cruel. Good teams rarely risk acquiring a player outside of that mold. So: is this a good thing? I think a lot of sports are wrestling with the analytical revolution and its consequences. The NBA can’t contain its own offense, the NFL can’t start theirs, and you are probably already well-versed on the aesthetic downside of modern MLB games. Efficiency is not always in the best interest of the game or the fans who hold expectations on how that game should look and feel. Some trimmed fat is genuinely good—thank god head coaches realized that punting on 4th and short is for cowards—but this rapid movement towards playing the same style of the same variation of the same concept is… boring. It gets stale. A team of guys striking out at a 27% clip only reinforces the old stereotypes that block prospective fans from tuning in and enjoying a ballgame. I don’t think it's a death sentence for the sport that teams are holding reservations about a few players that are admittedly flawed. We don’t need to force the Mike Hampton contract on teams simply because we dislike their process. What would be nice, though, is if each team had the means to reasonably sign players of Snell’s caliber without needing to stare down the maw of a lengthy rebuild if he falters ever so slightly. Someone likely would have snatched up all these men long ago if the game wasn’t wholly focused on conservatism and skeptical analysis. I suppose I just don’t like what the stalemate says about the player-franchise relationship. Teams seem to assume the worst about each player, and while that may be the safe move, doing so is lame, to steal a term I used in my prior table setter. I don’t know what exactly would create a better system, but I know this one isn’t the best it could be. View full article

Join us in argument as we count down the greatest Twins teams in history, as voted on by the Twins Daily writers. Today: the fifth-ranked team. Image courtesy of Thiéres Rabelo Overview The 2005 Twins stick out in the team’s grand narrative. The 2000s were a broadly successful era for Minnesota: only six franchises won more regular season games over this period, and the elite talent gathered in the north flourished in a way unseen since the great teams of the 60s. But, blotting this canvas is 2005, standing with a modest 83 wins in a sea of success. The team pitched well enough, enjoying another excellent season from ace Johan Santana, who led Carlos Silva’s best season as a pro and Brad Radke’s final healthy year as perhaps the greatest innings eater to ever live to the league’s 7th-best ERA. The bats didn’t follow suit. Torii Hunter broke his ankle, limiting his playing time to just 98 games, while future lineup fixtures in Joe Mauer and Justin Morneau struggled to adapt to major league pitching. By OPS+, Matthew Lecroy was the team’s best hitter, and—with all respect to the current manager of the Rochester Red Wings, and a man who enjoys banana and mayo sandwiches—him leading the charge is usually not an ideal way to score runs. And, to make matters worse, the Chicago White Sox, of all teams, vaulted over the Twins in the AL Central, riding their hot pitching to the franchise's first World Series win since Woodrow Wilson was president. Fortunately, 2006 went a little better. Lineup A duo of “Js”—Joe Mauer and Justin Morneau—spearheaded the bats; the lefties had flashed promise in prior years, but consistency proved elusive before 2006. Mauer made history, proving his worth as a 1st overall pick by becoming the first AL catcher to win the batting title. But Morneau topped him, claiming the first MVP win for a Twin since Rod Carew won it in 1977. What really made this lineup fun, though, was the ancillary characters adding to the group’s identity. White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen—brilliant in his own special eccentricities—handed Minnesota’s offense a title that would carry on for years: the piranhas. It wasn’t Mauer you should be worried about—“the catcher,” he called him—rather, Guillen was impressed by guys like Jason Bartlett and Luis Castillo, smaller, contact-oriented players with tremendous batting averages who allowed the boppers behind them to run up incredible RBI totals. Advanced stats disagree with Guillen’s observation as Mauer and Morneau were unquestionably the team’s best hitters, but it gave the team a title, a myth to build themselves around. They were the piranhas, and fending them off would be exhausting. The 06’ Twins slashed .287/.347/.425, good for the highest batting average in the league. Michael Cuddyer enjoyed the 4th-highest OPS+ of his career, hitting for a 124 mark while covering right field almost exclusively; the man to his right, Torii Hunter, was typically adept, earning a 112 OPS+ with a Gold Glove for his efforts. Pitching It’s remarkably difficult to write this section without just gushing over Johan Santana. The Venezuelan was in his third year as a full-time starter, and it may have been his best: he led the AL in wins, ERA, games started, innings, strikeouts, ERA+, FIP, WHIP, H/9, and K/9. Batters knocked him around in April, so he started May with seven innings of one-run ball against the Mariners, totaling a 2.50 ERA the rest of the way. Minnesota went 25-4 in those starts. His Cy Young win was implied. When Santana was done, Joe Nathan usually entered to make it clear in no uncertain terms that the other team’s hitters probably should have just called out sick. Nathan’s ERA was a microscopic 1.58 as he finished off 61 games, fully establishing himself as the finest non-Rivera reliever in the game. He finished 5th in the Cy Young vote. Minnesota actually had a reliever with a lower ERA, though: journeyman lefty Dennys Reyes suddenly and shockingly shed his previous control problems to mow down hitters to the tune of a 0.89 ERA. Other dominating, young relievers in Jesse Crain, Matt Guerrier, Juan Rincón, and Pat Neshek helped give the Twins easily the best ERA in baseball (2.91). Future effective pitchers Matt Garza and Glen Perkins also debuted. There’s one more player we need to talk about. To this day, almost 20 years later, Twins fans will still lament his destiny, claiming that things would have gone differently had he enjoyed good fortune. We need to talk about Francisco Liriano. While Santana was the unquestioned ace of the team, Liriano—a 22-year-old rookie—made a serious run at dethroning him. He pitched brilliantly out of the bullpen until mid-May when his dominance forced Minnesota’s brass to insert him into the rotation. He didn’t stop. In fact, he actually got better. He allowed a .525 OPS as a starter the rest of the season—an unthinkably low total nearly .100 points lower than Santana’s already-impressive .618 mark on the season. It was like the baseball gods blessed Minnesota with a golden ticket to playoff success. One ace is tough to beat; two aces may as well be impossible. And, then, it was all gone. The team scratched him from a start at the beginning of August due to elbow inflammation that never quite went away. He made two more major league starts betwixt a rehab attempt, but the pain continued to flare. On November 6th, 2006, Liriano underwent Tommy John surgery. He would go on to have a lengthy, journeyman career that featured a no-hitter in 2011, a successful starting stint with the Pirates, and a World Series ring as a lefty specialist for the 2017 Astros, but his 2006 dominance and subsequent flameout remains one of the greatest “what ifs?” in Minnesota’s history. Playoffs The team won 96 games, which included a tense wait session after the final win, as the team huddled in the clubhouse to watch the outcome of the Tigers game. Minnesota had already secured a postseason spot, but Detroit’s match determined the exact shape of their October baseball—whether it be in division-winning or wild card form. The Tigers lost. Reveling in their home crowd hours after their game ended, Twins players re-rook the field and celebrated their fourth division championship in five years with their patient, grateful fans. Their opponent? The Oakland A’s. No problem; Minnesota stymied the same ballclub just four years prior. How hard could it be? Wait, when did Frank Thomas get here? And when did Dan Haren get so good? Game One tilted Oakland’s way when The Big Hurt punished two Santana offerings, just narrowly providing enough cover for Barry Zito to earn the win with eight brilliant innings. Game Two extended the lead 2-0 when Minnesota’s bullpen couldn’t support Boof Bonsor’s six quality frames; Mark Kotsay provided the back-breaking knock when his liner snuck past a diving Torii Hunter, leading to an inside-the-park homer and two inescapable runs. Game Three was a laugher. Concluding Thoughts Any team that can claim both the MVP and the Cy Young winner deserves to be in the upper echelon of historical squads. It’s clear this team was top-heavy, though. Rondell White and 2006 Jason Kubel were an uninspiring tag team at DH, and Lew Ford’s cratered performance pushed Jason Tyner into a role unbecoming of a player of his abilities, no disrespect. And then there was the rotation: once Liriano went down, Minnesota’s second-best starter was either Brad Radke on his last legs or Boof Bonser. Granted, it was the best of Boof Bonser, but still, a 96-win team needs a better complement for their regal ace. I wonder if the playoffs would have played out differently if the baseball meta at the time was more forgiving of bullpen games—the Twins could easily crack teams in half with their assortment of relief arms, and they may have given the team a better effort than a clearly broken down Radke in game three. It’s tough to see one of the best relievers in baseball, Nathan, pitch just ⅔ of an inning in an entire series. “That 2006 team was amazing. And MVP (Morneau). Mauer's first batting championship. Santana's second Cy. Hunter coming along. Cuddyer's breakout. Nathan. Radke holding on. And I'm convinced if Liriano wasn't hurt, no one was stopping them. Santana was on what should have been Cy #3, but Liriano for a 3-month stretch was even better than Johan.” -Seth Stohs “This club won 96 games and boasted the AL MVP (Justin Morneau), Cy Young (Johan Santana) and batting champ (Joe Mauer). Pretty impressive.” -Tom Froemming What do you think of the 2006 Twins? Were they ranked too high or too low? Do you have any special memories of them? Leave a comment below and start the discussion. Previous Entries: #10 - 2010 #9 - 2023 #8 - 2002 #7 - 1970 #6 - 2019 Honorable Mentions View full article

Join us for thoughts I think when there's nothing to analyze, and speculation on Trevor Larnach. Image courtesy of © Kirby Lee-USA TODAY Sports You know how people sometimes say, "What a time to be alive"? This is not one of those exciting times. What a time it isn't. Baseball Apathy This is the least I’ve thought about baseball in an offseason. I think some combination of classist team spending and Minnesota’s announced vow of abstemiousness has neutered my usual excitement. I’m not thrilled. Nor am I jazzed. I’m looking forward to the season’s start, but only because of a basic enjoyment of Twins baseball—not because they’ve done anything to spark an anxious anticipation. Football has most of my attention these days. I’m watching the college football national championship game while writing this—go Washington; please make this age well [Ed. note: Welp. What a time it isn't.]—while reading Fran Tarkenton’s autobiography, co-written by Jim Klobuchar. I know the Twins will do something before the season starts. They always do. And offseason splashiness is poorly correlated with actual, real success the following season; there’s just something so lame about the whole thing. Following up one of the most exciting seasons in recent history by losing the man who finished second in the AL Cy Young vote, while declaring that the already unimpressive payroll will decrease, sucks the life out of a fan. It’s a gut punch to those who care, even if the reasons are legitimate. I don’t know. Maybe it’s healthy to carry your mind elsewhere when the season is on hold. I do think, though, that people tend to underrate a lack of moves, equating them to actively going backward. This isn’t the case. The Twins are already set up well, with a solid all-around offense lacking a significant hole, and they have a starting rotation that is both experienced and still relatively young. Bailey Ober is the oldest starter at 28 years of age. (Who would have guessed he was the oldest?) They could use another starter, because I don’t trust Chris Paddack to last an entire season, but there are far, far worse pitching situations in MLB. So, yeah, here we are: I’m sad at the lack of moves, but I think the team is already set up pretty well. Hypocritical? Maybe. I guess that’s the difference between rationality and emotional thoughts. What to do with Trevor Larnach? After three years, I don’t think we are any closer to knowing whether Larnach is a long-term solution. He’s been perfectly okay, but okay doesn’t cut it for a guy of his prospect pedigree. He needed to prove something in 2023, and all we saw were variations of a similar mediocre theme. With Matt Wallner firmly established, have we seen the end of Larnach as a Twin? Wallner proved more in 200 at-bats than Larnach has in three seasons. I’d say to package him in a trade, but I don’t think he has much value now. Oh, and here’s a fun thing I found the other day: Player 1: .222/.315/.385 Player 2: .240/.303/.429 Player 1 is Larnach; player 2 is Oswaldo Arcia. Also, did you know Arcia is still only 32? Still, I have this nagging feeling that he’ll Luke Raley it and break out with a team like the Rays. I guess there’s no downside to keeping him around for one more year. It’s just a shame that it looks like he’s only an ancillary depth piece, not the potential middle-of-the-order thumper he should have been. Hunter McCall will have a good breakdown piece on Larnach on the site tomorrow, though, so check back then for some detailed looks at his key areas of needed improvement. And, those are my two thoughts of the day. How do you feel about Minnesota’s spending malaise? Do you think Larnach can still contribute to the Twins? Leave a comment and start the discussion, on these or other topics. View full article

Join us in argument as we count down the greatest Twins teams in history, as voted on by the Twins Daily writers. Today: the sixth-ranked team. Image courtesy of Thiéres Rabelo Not that many baseball teams get a nickname. The 2019 Twins weren't quite Murderer's Row or the Big Red Machine, but they were every bit as good as Harvey's Wallbangers and the South Side Hitmen. That earned them a their own sobriquet. Overview The Twins were at a critical juncture entering 2019. Their surprise 2017 Wild Card appearance was a happy incident—especially as it came in the first full season under new front office leadership—but 2018 turned sour, and Minnesota now seemed stuck in the middle, trapped between mediocrity and competency. Longtime second baseman Brian Dozier was dealt to the Dodgers. Fan favorite Eduardo Escobar traveled south to Arizona. Most daunting of all, to emphasize the end of an era, franchise icon Joe Mauer ended his career in 2018, donning his old catcher’s gear for one last pitch before a deeply appreciative Target Field home crowd. The season cost one more career: Manager Paul Molitor was shown the door, ending his Twins managerial career after four seasons. The new front office initially kept Molitor despite the turnover—an odd move only made because Twins owner Jim Pohlad promised Molitor’s safety. Now, they could choose their own decision-maker, and they selected Rocco Baldelli, a young Rays product in the modern analytical vein. Minnesota spent the offseason mostly quiet, choosing to acquire depth pieces over splashy names. C.J. Cron and Jonathan Schoop added right-handed pop to the lineup, Marwin González brought super-utility credentials from a winning organization in the Astros, and Blake Parker and Martín Pérez thickened a pitching staff looking to recover from a forgettable season the year prior. But the big bopper—the man who would symbolize and embody the team unlike any player since—was Nelson Cruz. Set to turn 38 in 2019, Cruz was a risky investment, even if he did claim over a decade of experience pummeling pitchers. Fortunately, the gamble paid off. Lineup Following an 11-4 bludgeoning of the White Sox on May 24th, left fielder Eddie Rosario told reporters that “[w]hen you’re hitting a lot of bombas, everybody’s hitting bombas, everybody’s happy.” He probably didn’t know it at the time, but his use of “bomba” would soon morph into a living, breathing title, transforming Minnesota from being “The Twins” to “The Bomba Squad.” And, well, it was fitting: the team blasted 307 homers in 2019, riding the juiced ball (more on that later) to an MLB record for home runs hit in a single season. Five different players (Cruz, Max Kepler, Miguel Sanó, Rosario, and Mitch Garver ) hit at least 30 bombas (also an MLB record). Cruz alone blasted 41. Garver—despite only taking 359 plate appearances—sent 31 balls over the wall. Their outfielders hit homers; their infielders hit homers; their catchers hit homers. Every player was fully capable of destroying a baseball on any given night, giving the team a deadly 1-9 that scored the second-most runs in MLB. But yeah, the ball was definitely juiced. Homers started to tick up starting in mid-2015, and they hit a cartoonish zenith in 2019. That year, the league hit 6,776 long balls, blowing way beyond the previous high set just two years prior. It reached a point where commissioner Rob Manfred admitted that MLB’s own scientists noticed the baseball had less drag than before. This isn’t to discredit the lineup, though. The ball was juiced for everyone; Minnesota just so happened to notice the trend and made the (correct) decision to focus on adding power bats in the offseason. One player bucked the trend, though, only hitting four homers in a tremendous rookie season defined by his almost magical contact abilities. Luis Arráez was called up in May for a cup of coffee, went back to Triple-A at the start of June, and re-joined the big league club in the middle of the month. His time in the minors quickly ended. His preferred playing style—spitting on pitches outside of the strike zone with an iconic head shake before smacking a line drive to the opposite field—fueled a .334/.399/.439 line that prompted predictions for a future batting title for the 22-year-old Venezuelan. Those predictions were wrong. He’s won two batting titles. Pitching Minnesota’s lineup stole the headlines, but this team could pitch well, too—although it took a while to come around. José Berríos became the unquestioned ace of the staff when injuries curtailed Ervin Santana’s career, and he was characteristically great, earning his second career All-Star nod in 200 ⅓ innings, with a 3.68 ERA. Jake Odorizzi was a hell of a No. 2, breaking out at 29 to make his only career All-Star team in a truncated (but nonetheless effective) season. His ERA was 3.51. And Taylor Rogers baffled hitters out of the bullpen, utilizing his slingshot delivery and new, sharp slider to earn the first 30-save season of his career. The rest is where things get messy. The bullpen’s first-half ERA was 4.30—actually not too bad in the context of 2019, but still an unpleasant sight, especially because the depth beyond Rogers was questionable. Thirty-year-old rookie Ryne Harper made the team after a dominant spring training, but his looping curveball schtick faltered, making him unreliable. Tyler Duffey spent the previous four seasons as a frustrating, inconsistent starter. Suddenly, he was throwing 95-MPH darts with a nasty breaking ball. Was it sustainable, though? Trevor May was much of the same, failing to establish himself since he debuted in 2014. The innings between the starter and Rogers were fraught with hazards and tripwires. Baldelli couldn’t find anyone to trust. Yet, after half a season, it clicked. The Twins made a move at the deadline, adding a feisty veteran of San Francisco’s trio of championships in Sergio Romo. Romo fit perfectly; his slider-or-nothing approach still earned plenty of whiffs, and his closing experience allowed Baldelli to play matchups with the lefty Rogers if he so chose. The new order propelled Minnesota's bullpen to the best in baseball by FIP in the second half (3.56). The rotation was more straightforward; Berríos, Odorizzi, Pérez, Kyle Gibson, and Michael Pineda made all but 16 of the team’s starts in 2019, gobbling innings that varied from great (Berríos, Odorizzi,) to good (Pineda), to meh (Gibson, Pérez). Playoffs The team won 101 games, the most since they won 102 in 1965, and fended off a hearty challenge from Cleveland to win the AL Central. Their reward? The Yankees. Woof. Game One tilted Minnesota’s way after Polanco and Cruz blasted solo homers, but New York piled on in the middle innings to make it a 10-4 laugher. Game Two was much of the same—but with a twist. Pineda, who was a reliable starter all season, was hit with a 60-game suspension at the beginning of September after he tested positive for hydrochlorothiazide, rendering him ineligible for postseason play. The Twins turned to rookie Randy Dobnak for the start, hoping his sharp sinker and solid regular-season showing would conjure some good fortune. It didn’t. A Yankees 7-spot in the third inning essentially ended the match. Game Three’s loss was inevitable. Concluding Thoughts This team was good--damn good. Their home run ability was surreal, and it seemed like their pitching should have been enough to win them, I don’t know, at least one playoff game. Two-and-a-half starters and a solid bullpen are enough for most teams; I guess luck never bothered to show up for them when it mattered most. Still, their consistency and outright domination in the regular season is a marvel to look back on. They lost three games in a row once, four games in a row once, and… that was it. They were healthily above .500 every month, with a 13-11 July serving as their worst showing. Obviously, postseason success matters too, but I think this team belongs up there with the likes of 1970—a team very similar in outcomes to this one. "The Bomba Squad was great. Maybe it was the juiced ball... But all those "piranhas" labels were out the window when they broke the single-season home-run mark. Cruz was a story. Kepler hit 36. Garver. Sano. Rosario. I mean, it didn't matter. Ryan LaMarre was acquired as an extra outfielder in mid-September from the Braves, whose AAA season was done. He happened to be in the Twins Cities with his wife and her family. He hit homers. Down 3-1 in the 8th... three-run homer from Marwin. It was just crazy. Also illustrated why maybe giving up some offense to add pitching was a good idea. 101 wins too." -Seth Stohs "Bombas and a decent rotation before injuries and suspensions. Kepler, Polanco, and Buxton were great until they got hurt. Nelson Cruz." -Hans Birkeland "The Bomba Squad! A 101-win season. The most home runs ever. The best run differential in team history (+185). It’s already slipping my mind that these guys also had two All-Star starting pitchers (José Berríos and Jake Odorizzi), went a ridiculous 55-26 on the road and were 23-12 in one-run games. I guess it's easy to forget some of the details when a team rips your heart out in the end." - Tom Froemming "The Bomba Squad was the most fun team to watch. Even if they were down by 4+ runs, it never felt like they were out of a game. The ending was brutal, but it was probably the most fun regular season of Twins baseball I have ever seen. Plus, Taylor Rogers was a driving force out of the bullpen." -Cody Schoenmann What do you think of the 2019 Twins? Were they ranked too high or too low? Do you have any special memories of them? Leave a comment below and start the discussion. Previous Entries: #10 - 2010 #9 - 2023 #8 - 2002 #7 - 1970 Honorable Mentions View full article

Join us in argument as we count down the greatest Twins teams in history, as voted on by the Twins Daily writers. Today: the seventh-ranked team. Image courtesy of Thiéres Rabelo Overview The 1970 Twins—the reason why we can’t broadly declare the decade to be pitiful and fruitless. That, and Rod Carew. And Bert Blyleven. The great mechanisms that built the Twins of the 1960s were still at play in 1970. Franchise icons like Harmon Killebrew, Tony Oliva, Jim Kaat, and César Tovar were still reasonably in their primes (Killebrew less so, at age 34, but still fresh off an MVP season). Billy Martin’s flash-in-the-pan success and immediate firing could have pushed them off course, but these Twins were sturdy. They simply replaced the eccentric Martin with another Billy—this one preferred to drop the “y”—and lurched forward with their leviathan of talent. No one knew it then, but this would be Minnesota’s final foray into playoff baseball until the 1987 team miraculously won it all. The rest of the '70s weren’t bad, really. Rather, the Twins fell into the kind of lull that causes franchises to atrophy, as mediocre talent begat more mediocre talent, with the whole thing crashing down in a disgusting 1982 campaign. They weren’t bad, but they were something worse than that: forgettable. That’s for the future, though. For now, we’ll enjoy and celebrate the final adventure of a legendary group of players. Lineup Killebrew, Oliva, and Tovar were the three stars at the top of Minnesota’s lineup. The man nicknamed “Killer” was still the leader of the bunch. He bashed 40 homers for the eighth time in his career, en route to a gorgeous .271/.411/.546 slash line, good enough to nab him a third-place finish in the AL MVP race. The man who finished second? His teammate, Oliva, who cracked a league-leading 36 doubles and 204 total hits, marking another tremendous season in a run of excellence that would (unfortunately) soon end. Tovar only finished 18th in voting, but his contributions were critical. Since Jimmie Hall’s shocking decline in the mid-1960s, center field had been in flux. Ted Uhlaender was a respectable replacement, with the height of his play coming in 1968, but the Baylor product wowed few—and his defense lagged behind expectations for such a critical position. Enter Tovar. The Venezuela native had played every position on the field, after brief looks at first base, catcher, and pitcher in 1968 during a promotional stunt in which he played all nine spots on the diamond in a meaningless game. He even struck out Reggie Jackson while on the mound. Why not make him the everyday center fielder? The fit was perfect. Tovar knocked 36 doubles and 13 triples, while playing good defense (if Total Zone is to be believed). The rest of the lineup was… well, there’s a reason three men garnered the lion’s share of focus. Longtime fixture Bob Allison barely played due to his failing knees; the young, brilliant Carew was limited to 51 games after an injured leg caused him to miss most of the season; and 1969 breakout star Rich Reese dimmed in 1970, losing nearly .200 points of OPS. Still, the team scored the seventh-most runs in MLB and played excellent defense to offset their hitting woes. Pitching This team could pitch. They’d beat you with their starting rotation, and then they’d beat you with their bullpen. Staff ace Jim Perry had served as a reliable swingman since the team acquired him from Cleveland in 1963, but he was never among the group who earned regular starting nods from managers. There was always more talent, more veteran options. Once those choices evaporated, Perry became a full-time starter in 1969, and reached new heights in 1970. He won 24 of his 40 starts, covering 278 ⅔ frames, turning in a 3.04 ERA in a season that earned him the AL Cy Young Award nod over solid challengers in Dave McNally, Sam McDowell, and Mike Cuellar. Filling in behind him was a 19-year-old Bert Blyleven, in his first taste of major-league ball, Kaat’s typical, steady effectiveness, and Luis Tiant—the one and only—in his often-forgotten stopover between Cleveland and Boston. But, because a 19-year-old and a legend with only 92 ⅔ innings in him isn’t a strong back-end, Dave Boswell, Bill Zepp, and Tom Hall stepped in to supply frames. Boswell—still recovering from his altercation with manager Martin the previous season—barely pitched, and didn’t get outs when he did. Zepp filled innings well, covering more than 150 of them before the season ended, but the story was focused solely on a man nicknamed “The Blade.” Hall had been around since 1968, earning the Twins quality outs whenever the team called upon him. His slim appearance—Baseball Reference lists him at 150 pounds—reminded those who tried to hit off him of the edge one might find on a knife. That terror was too much in 1970; Hall eviscerated batters, striking out 184 over just 155 ⅓ innings. He had a 2.55 ERA. Whether starting or relieving, Bill Rigney knew he could rely on his svelte lefty. In fact, relief pitching is really what defined this team: Ron Perranoski, Hall, and Stan Williams were terrors out of the bullpen. Perranoski’s greatness had been well-known since his time with the Dodgers—and his performance would earn him a seventh-place finish in the Cy Young vote—but Williams’s play was especially eye-opening. Once a Dodger bullpen arm himself, Williams bounced to New York before settling in as an ancillary arm with Cleveland. Losing 14 games in 1969 earned him the boot out. Now a Twin, Williams pitched in 68 games, crushed hitters with his 1.99 ERA, and gave the team crucial innings unable to be pitched by their starting rotation. Playoffs The previous season concluded with a 3-0 sweep at the hands of the Earl Weaver-led Orioles and 1970 ended with… a 3-0 sweep at the hands of the Earl Weaver-led Orioles. No game was particularly close; Minnesota came the closest in the opening contest, losing 10-6. Baltimore jumped on Perry. The rest of the series doesn’t deserve a mention. Concluding Thoughts I’m glad our writers knew their history on this one. It’s easy to write off or misremember what happened when the Martin era ended before it could really begin, but this was a genuinely fun, cool team that was maybe pretty modern. What do you do when you have two-and-a-half trustworthy starting pitchers? Rely on your bullpen. Of course, having career years from Hall and Williams doesn’t hurt. I think if Carew had stayed healthy and Tiant had made more of an impact, this team would stand out more in our collective memory. Carew was obviously a dynamo. Perhaps a Tiant start in Game Two evens the series and gives the team a fighting chance against the Orioles. We’ll never know. In any case, this was a deeply memorable team. They were Minnesota’s last breath of fresh air, before injuries and old age sapped what remained of the 1960s run, marking the start of a 16-year postseason drought. They had award winners and breakout relief arms. If Killebrew wasn’t bashing homers, Tovar was probably hitting a triple. Carew may have played in just 51 games, but Blyleven started his legendary MLB career pitching impressively well for any rookie—much less a 19-year-old. But there was a team better than them waiting in the playoffs. So it goes. "This team probably should be higher by as many as 4-5 spots. They actually won 98 games but are a bit overlooked because it was so similar to the 1969 season, just not with Billy..." -Seth Stohs "Peak Cesar Tovar, Carew, Killebrew. Perry, Kaat, baby Blyleven, and Luis freaking Tiant." -Hans Birkeland What do you think of the 1970 Twins? Were they ranked too high or too low? Do you have any special memories of them? Leave a comment below and start the discussion. Previous Entries: #10 - 2010 #9 - 2023 #8 - 2002 Honorable Mentions View full article