IdahoPilgrim

It’s a ritual that happens every spring. In caves and dens around the country black and brown bears are gradually starting to claw their way to consciousness. The long winter’s sleep is winding down and once again the a new year dawns, filled with times of opportunity and times of crisis, with the chance to excel in the ritual of life and the danger of losing the battle once for all. In many ways that’s what I feel like as I head into Super Bowl Sunday. Yes, for one more weekend my attention is going to be firmly fixed on twenty-two grown men pummeling each other into oblivion. I will devoutly watch as a prolate spheroid of pigskin (artificial of course) is handed and passed back and forth and, every once in a while, touches someone’s foot (hence the name of the sport). And then, the way is clear for the boys of summer to come front and center once again. I will admit that, after the world series last year, I kind of drifted away from following the team for a while. Oh, I read the occasional story about which free agent signed and which free agent didn’t. I surfed the internet to see the reaction of the fans to this and that (ho hum!). I even put in my order for BA’s 2013 prospect handbook (it came today!). But for the last three months the Twins just were not high on my radar screen. I can of course make all kinds of excuses. I was preoccupied with my search for a new position (mission accomplished!); I was too busy following the NHL lockout; we actually had some basketball teams that were worth watching for a while (it didn’t last, of course). But the truth is that somehow my baseball sense just went into hibernation – waiting out the lean months of winter. But I feel that ending as we get close to the date when pitchers and catchers initiate the 2013 season. I find myself heading back to the Twins Daily site on a more regular basis, leafing through the forums in a way I haven’t done since November. I scour the map to find out where the nearest professional team is to the city in which I shall be living (a Rookie team 45 minutes down the road), and then looking up their 2013 schedule on the web. I read through who will be invited to the Twins camp, and I find myself looking forward in eager anticipation, even if some of the names make me cringe a little (OK, a lot). Because regardless of how good or bad the team might look on paper, regardless of the chatter on this and other sites about how many wins (or losses) we can expect this season, right now the Twins are tied for first place, not having lost a single game. Which means there’s hope! OK, perhaps it’s not much hope (although I see that Reusse, the eternal pessimist, is actually looking for an upside surprise this year), but it is still hope. It’s like every May when I brush the dust off my golf clubs and head out for that first round of golf. There is hope that this year will be different, that somehow the multiple major flaws in my swing will have magically self-corrected over the winter. It may not last much beyond the first round (first hole? first tee?) but at least for a moment I can dream. That’s how I feel about the Twins right now. For the moment, I can still dream. Forget about whether the dream is tied or not to reality – no dream is. Forget about what the landscape will look like in July. Right now we all start fresh. Spring is a time of renewal and new life. I choose to feel that in my love of baseball as well. Reality can come later. But for now I wish to rise from my baseball slumbers and look ahead to the day(season) with anticipation and optimism. For at least a time, the magic can start again.

Just out of curiosity, if Mauer had won the batting title, would that have made a difference in your pick for MVP?

I like the analysis, but this series is still only a possible one - Cincinnati could still win the top seed.

I actually hope this doesn't happen. I like having a non-affiliated professional team nearby - kind of a plan B for seasons like this.

Note: The following entry is not in any way meant to mock or make light of those with real addictions. I know all too well the struggles that are associated with addictions of all types, and the effect it can have on lives. Please read this in the humorous spirit in which it is meant. It is mid-September. The Twins are twenty-four games under .500, getting their clocks cleaned 9-1 by Kansas City last night. It is raining and dreary out. So what is the highlight of my day? The release of the 2013 Twins schedule! Almost immediately after it is posted I am marking my calendar, pouring over the pages, seeing who’s coming in when, and beginning to think ahead to what teams I’m going to want to see, and where I might want to sit. It is only after a couple of hours of this that the sad truth is driven home to me – I am addicted to Twins baseball. How do I know it is an addiction? Because it fits all the symptoms: Preoccupation with all things Twins-related (how many times a day do I visit this site?); Impaired control over behavior (I just can’t turn the game off no matter how bad it is); Continued use for short-term gratification regardless of long-term consequences (ulcers); Rationalization used to justify continued interest (there’s always tomorrow); Wasting of financial resources to enable behavior ($13 parking, overpriced concessions, yet still I go); Withdrawal (I’m already starting to get the shakes with the off-season approaching). Yes, I can now admit that I am powerless over the hold Twins baseball has on me. The question is, what happens next? Is there a power than can restore sanity to my life? Perhaps a small group can be formed, with regular meetings, to help me manage the effects of this addiction (“Hi, my name is Steve, and I’m a Twins fan.”) Maybe I can get a Sponsor, someone I can call when I feel the urge to go to a ballgame. I could move somewhere where Twins baseball is not readily available, to remove the temptation (although given MLB.TV I’m not sure where that would be). Perhaps a less-damaging substitute, with fewer side effects (Minnesota Lynx?). Maybe even check into a clinic, isolate myself completely, no internet, no radio, no cable, no newspapers – anything necessary to help me go cold turkey and detox once and for all. The problem is, none of this will work, because when I am truly honest with myself I realize I lack the most important ingredient in any recovery: the desire to get better. No matter how many times I try to cure myself of this, recidivism is inevitable. I have to admit to myself that no matter how much hold the Minnesota Twins have over me, I crave only more. For me there is no rock-bottom (even after these past two seasons); I am happy in my addiction and in the hope that some day pain will turn to pleasure. So here I sit again, watching tonight’s game, storing up baseball to get me through the long winter months, and already dreaming of what will be next year. GO TWINS!!

Note: The following entry is not in any way meant to mock or make light of those with real addictions. I know all too well the struggles that are associated with addictions of all types, and the effect it can have on lives. Please read this in the humorous spirit in which it is meant. It is mid-September. The Twins are twenty-four games under .500, getting their clocks cleaned 9-1 by Kansas City last night. It is raining and dreary out. So what is the highlight of my day? The release of the 2013 Twins schedule! Almost immediately after it is posted I am marking my calendar, pouring over the pages, seeing who’s coming in when, and beginning to think ahead to what teams I’m going to want to see, and where I might want to sit. It is only after a couple of hours of this that the sad truth is driven home to me – I am addicted to Twins baseball. How do I know it is an addiction? Because it fits all the symptoms: Preoccupation with all things Twins-related (how many times a day do I visit this site?); Impaired control over behavior (I just can’t turn the game off no matter how bad it is); Continued use for short-term gratification regardless of long-term consequences (ulcers); Rationalization used to justify continued interest (there’s always tomorrow); Wasting of financial resources to enable behavior ($13 parking, overpriced concessions, yet still I go); Withdrawal (I’m already starting to get the shakes with the off-season approaching). Yes, I can now admit that I am powerless over the hold Twins baseball has on me. The question is, what happens next? Is there a power than can restore sanity to my life? Perhaps a small group can be formed, with regular meetings, to help me manage the effects of this addiction (“Hi, my name is Steve, and I’m a Twins fan.”) Maybe I can get a Sponsor, someone I can call when I feel the urge to go to a ballgame. I could move somewhere where Twins baseball is not readily available, to remove the temptation (although given MLB.TV I’m not sure where that would be). Perhaps a less-damaging substitute, with fewer side effects (Minnesota Lynx?). Maybe even check into a clinic, isolate myself completely, no internet, no radio, no cable, no newspapers – anything necessary to help me go cold turkey and detox once and for all. The problem is, none of this will work, because when I am truly honest with myself I realize I lack the most important ingredient in any recovery: the desire to get better. No matter how many times I try to cure myself of this, recidivism is inevitable. I have to admit to myself that no matter how much hold the Minnesota Twins have over me, I crave only more. For me there is no rock-bottom (even after these past two seasons); I am happy in my addiction and in the hope that some day pain will turn to pleasure. So here I sit again, watching tonight’s game, storing up baseball to get me through the long winter months, and already dreaming of what will be next year. GO TWINS!!

Nice entry. I was kind of torn on the decision to expand the playoffs. On the one hand, I never liked the wild card in the first place, and adding a second seemed to me to go in the wrong direction. On the other, though, it does increase the incentive to win the division and not settle for second, so in that respect it actually moves us in the right direction. One of those weird cases when two wrongs actually might make a right.

NOTE: This entry is a postscript to my series of entries describing my game-day experiences on a tour of the Minnesota Twins farm system; it describes what led me to make this trip in the first place. Please be advised that it is very different from what has gone before in this series. It is longer, more personal and, in contrast to the light-hearted tone I tried to take with the previous entries, it is written from a more serious perspective and has a strong spiritual component. If this is not your cup of tea please just skip over this post and go do something else. If, having read this disclaimer, you still want to know why I did this, read on. I guess you could say that the idea to take this trip has its roots going back to Labor Day 2011 when my mother and I were in an hiking accident along the river bluffs southeast of the Twin Cities. The details of the accident are immaterial, but the result was my mother lost her life and I was left with a broken ankle. It was two-plus months before I could use my left leg and another two-plus months in outpatient therapy building my strength back up and learning to walk normally again. During that time of healing and recovery I spent much of my emotional (and physical) energy both grieving the loss and settling the business affairs of the estate, including fixing up and selling the house where I had grown up and where she had lived for forty years. In addition, the church I had been serving as interim pastor finally concluded their search for new permanent leadership, so I found myself without employment (fortunately, the inheritance eliminated any short-term financial concerns). As the work progressed on the house to the point where it was ready to list, and as the estate began to be wrapped up, I began to look ahead to what might be next in my life. In one sense, I knew this was a new beginning. Always before I had had members of my immediate family as a part of my life. Now, with my mother’s death (preceded by my sister five years ago and my dad in 1999), and being a lifelong bachelor, I am in a real sense entering new and uncharted territory. The simple question I have been asking myself is, What do I do now? Is it time to get back to my called profession and look for a church where God might be leading me to serve? Or do I go a new direction and look for a new career entirely? Do I stay in the Twin Cities area (I had moved back here a few years earlier out of concern for my mother’s health) or do I consider relocating? And if so, to where? I was aware of the biblical tradition of how the ancient prophets discerned God’s will for their lives – by spending time in the wilderness and allowing God to speak to them in their wanderings. The story of Elijah, fleeing from Ahab and Jezebel and taking refuge on Mount Horeb, and there hearing the voice of God in the silence of the night, was particularly poignant. In a similar way, many other cultures have the tradition of a “vision quest” when seeking direction for their lives. Then, as I was driving back from a short camping trip at one of Minnesota’s many state parks, I heard an interview on public radio with a woman who, after the death of her mother, made it her goal to hike the Appalachian Trail, and subsequently did so. The idea began to take shape that I needed to find some way to go on a quest or do something out of the ordinary, both as a part of the grieving process and as a way of seeking direction for the future. It was about this time, in April, when the Twins season kicked off, and since I didn’t really have anything else better to do with my time I began to follow not just the parent club but to keep track of the farm teams as well. One evening, while perusing the box scores, the idea came to me to visit some of the teams – perhaps Beloit, or perhaps New Britain and Rochester because their proximity to each other. And then, finally, why not visit all of them? I promptly dismissed the idea as both expensive and excessive (it would take 2-3 weeks to accomplish), but the idea continued to linger. If I was looking for a longer time of reflection and journeying, would this not work? And then, getting out the calendar and sitting down and looking at the home schedules of each team, it became clear that there was a perfect window of opportunity to actually do this trip if I wanted to. It was almost as if the schedules had been designed with the intent of making this trip possible. From that point on I began to realize that this was something, not just that I wanted to do, but something that I had to do. The final straw was when my mother’s house sold, receiving an offer less than a month after listing and closing at a fair price in less than two. This final removal of an impediment, when many houses are sitting for months without interest, signalled to me that the trip was meant to be, so the planning began in earnest, and on Tuesday July 31st I headed out on I-94 for the first leg of this odyssey. The idea of writing about it comes in part from that interview I heard on public radio (the woman in question actually wrote a book about her experiences), and also from my participation on the Twins Daily site, which I discovered in early May. I had posted many comments on the forum threads, and I knew that some also blogged about this or that. I had toyed with the idea of blogging as well, but never did so because there was never a topic on which I really felt the need to write. I will say that when the trip started I was still on the fence on whether I would blog about it or not, but the day after the first game I just sat down and started typing and my thoughts flowed out naturally and formed the first entry. I decided from the start that this would be written primarily for myself, to help me document my own experiences and allow me to go back later in life and look at this trip again, to allow me to relive it. If others found the entries interesting, that would be a bonus, but if not, it didn’t really matter to me. This was a part of my own process of healing and discernment. So did the trip accomplish what I hoped? I would say yes. I saw a lot of good baseball (which in itself was part of why I did this), and it was good to see parts of America that I hadn’t visited in years, and to just be on the road and travelling. More importantly, though, it did the job of getting me out on an extended “quest” in which I could allow God to speak to me and give me direction. In that respect, it turns out that the drives between the cities were more important than the games themselves. While I occasionally let the radio search for stations to pass the time from place to place, for the most part I drove in silence, with only my thoughts for company. Winding through the Appalachians, heading down through South Carolina into Georgia and Florida, going back up the coast on those marathon days between Fort Myers and Hartford, driving through the genteel countryside of Connecticut – those all became times for God to speak in the silence of my soul. There is no one point that I can look at and say “This is the moment” when I knew what God wanted next. But, through the process of the whole journey, I did come to what I believe was a discernment, and I now have a gameplan for the direction I go from here. Whether it works out as I hope and expect, who knows? In one sense, I have a process in mind and not an endpoint, so God could still lead me in new and unexpected ways. But I do enter this new time in my life with gratitude for what I had before, for the joys and blessings my family gave me while they were with me and for the legacies they left me, both tangible and intangible. I enter it with a renewed sense of purpose and a willingness for God to lead me wherever God chooses. And I enter it having watched a lot of baseball, which is always a good thing.

NOTE: This entry is a postscript to my series of entries describing my game-day experiences on a tour of the Minnesota Twins farm system; it describes what led me to make this trip in the first place. Please be advised that it is very different from what has gone before in this series. It is longer, more personal and, in contrast to the light-hearted tone I tried to take with the previous entries, it is written from a more serious perspective and has a strong spiritual component. If this is not your cup of tea please just skip over this post and go do something else. If, having read this disclaimer, you still want to know why I did this, read on. I guess you could say that the idea to take this trip has its roots going back to Labor Day 2011 when my mother and I were in an hiking accident along the river bluffs southeast of the Twin Cities. The details of the accident are immaterial, but the result was my mother lost her life and I was left with a broken ankle. It was two-plus months before I could use my left leg and another two-plus months in outpatient therapy building my strength back up and learning to walk normally again. During that time of healing and recovery I spent much of my emotional (and physical) energy both grieving the loss and settling the business affairs of the estate, including fixing up and selling the house where I had grown up and where she had lived for forty years. In addition, the church I had been serving as interim pastor finally concluded their search for new permanent leadership, so I found myself without employment (fortunately, the inheritance eliminated any short-term financial concerns). As the work progressed on the house to the point where it was ready to list, and as the estate began to be wrapped up, I began to look ahead to what might be next in my life. In one sense, I knew this was a new beginning. Always before I had had members of my immediate family as a part of my life. Now, with my mother’s death (preceded by my sister five years ago and my dad in 1999), and being a lifelong bachelor, I am in a real sense entering new and uncharted territory. The simple question I have been asking myself is, What do I do now? Is it time to get back to my called profession and look for a church where God might be leading me to serve? Or do I go a new direction and look for a new career entirely? Do I stay in the Twin Cities area (I had moved back here a few years earlier out of concern for my mother’s health) or do I consider relocating? And if so, to where? I was aware of the biblical tradition of how the ancient prophets discerned God’s will for their lives – by spending time in the wilderness and allowing God to speak to them in their wanderings. The story of Elijah, fleeing from Ahab and Jezebel and taking refuge on Mount Horeb, and there hearing the voice of God in the silence of the night, was particularly poignant. In a similar way, many other cultures have the tradition of a “vision quest” when seeking direction for their lives. Then, as I was driving back from a short camping trip at one of Minnesota’s many state parks, I heard an interview on public radio with a woman who, after the death of her mother, made it her goal to hike the Appalachian Trail, and subsequently did so. The idea began to take shape that I needed to find some way to go on a quest or do something out of the ordinary, both as a part of the grieving process and as a way of seeking direction for the future. It was about this time, in April, when the Twins season kicked off, and since I didn’t really have anything else better to do with my time I began to follow not just the parent club but to keep track of the farm teams as well. One evening, while perusing the box scores, the idea came to me to visit some of the teams – perhaps Beloit, or perhaps New Britain and Rochester because their proximity to each other. And then, finally, why not visit all of them? I promptly dismissed the idea as both expensive and excessive (it would take 2-3 weeks to accomplish), but the idea continued to linger. If I was looking for a longer time of reflection and journeying, would this not work? And then, getting out the calendar and sitting down and looking at the home schedules of each team, it became clear that there was a perfect window of opportunity to actually do this trip if I wanted to. It was almost as if the schedules had been designed with the intent of making this trip possible. From that point on I began to realize that this was something, not just that I wanted to do, but something that I had to do. The final straw was when my mother’s house sold, receiving an offer less than a month after listing and closing at a fair price in less than two. This final removal of an impediment, when many houses are sitting for months without interest, signalled to me that the trip was meant to be, so the planning began in earnest, and on Tuesday July 31st I headed out on I-94 for the first leg of this odyssey. The idea of writing about it comes in part from that interview I heard on public radio (the woman in question actually wrote a book about her experiences), and also from my participation on the Twins Daily site, which I discovered in early May. I had posted many comments on the forum threads, and I knew that some also blogged about this or that. I had toyed with the idea of blogging as well, but never did so because there was never a topic on which I really felt the need to write. I will say that when the trip started I was still on the fence on whether I would blog about it or not, but the day after the first game I just sat down and started typing and my thoughts flowed out naturally and formed the first entry. I decided from the start that this would be written primarily for myself, to help me document my own experiences and allow me to go back later in life and look at this trip again, to allow me to relive it. If others found the entries interesting, that would be a bonus, but if not, it didn’t really matter to me. This was a part of my own process of healing and discernment. So did the trip accomplish what I hoped? I would say yes. I saw a lot of good baseball (which in itself was part of why I did this), and it was good to see parts of America that I hadn’t visited in years, and to just be on the road and travelling. More importantly, though, it did the job of getting me out on an extended “quest” in which I could allow God to speak to me and give me direction. In that respect, it turns out that the drives between the cities were more important than the games themselves. While I occasionally let the radio search for stations to pass the time from place to place, for the most part I drove in silence, with only my thoughts for company. Winding through the Appalachians, heading down through South Carolina into Georgia and Florida, going back up the coast on those marathon days between Fort Myers and Hartford, driving through the genteel countryside of Connecticut – those all became times for God to speak in the silence of my soul. There is no one point that I can look at and say “This is the moment” when I knew what God wanted next. But, through the process of the whole journey, I did come to what I believe was a discernment, and I now have a gameplan for the direction I go from here. Whether it works out as I hope and expect, who knows? In one sense, I have a process in mind and not an endpoint, so God could still lead me in new and unexpected ways. But I do enter this new time in my life with gratitude for what I had before, for the joys and blessings my family gave me while they were with me and for the legacies they left me, both tangible and intangible. I enter it with a renewed sense of purpose and a willingness for God to lead me wherever God chooses. And I enter it having watched a lot of baseball, which is always a good thing.

It was noted elsewhere that this week attendance dropped below 30,000 at Target Field for the first time in its history. Some saw that as a harbinger of doom, leading to a vicious cycle of depressed revenues followed by lower payroll followed by a poorer product on the field followed by depressed revenues followed by... My own take: At last! This is what I’ve been waiting for since Target Field opened. Don’t get me wrong – it was fun to see a full ballpark for a while. But I’m glad the honeymoon is over. Why? Because I don’t like crowds. That’s not to say I don’t like people. In small, carefully controlled quantities people are great. But I’ve never liked when it gets to the point where you don’t have any elbow room. That’s why I’m always of two minds about going to the State Fair. I enjoy the experience, at first, but after a couple of hours the throngs have begun to wear on me and I start thinking about a quick exit. Thinking back on my tour of the Twins farm system the two most enjoyable game-day experiences were in New Britain and in Elizabethton. In both cases, attendance was about two-thirds of stadium capacity. The other parks felt too empty. At the 2/3-capacity level, though, there was enough crowd to provide a lively atmosphere and yet still enough free seats to be able to spread out and move around and not be crowded (and in one case to flee the merciless rays of the sun). Somewhere in the 65%-75% range felt like a good mix. Translating that metric to Target Field, and you have a desired audience in the 25,000-30,000 range. The concourses are not quite so crowded, the concession stand and restroom lines are more reasonable, and you don’t have to worry about getting seated next to someone who will ... ah... hamper the game-day experience for you. You also have the advantage of flexibility in going to games. One of the things I hated about the first couple of years in the new stadium is the difficulty in making a same-day decision to go see a ballgame. For good parts of those seasons they were sold out in advance. I remember going down one time and having to make the choice between a standing-room ticket and going home empty after having paid for parking. Now, I can look at the weather, see how I feel, and, when the time and mood are right, head out to the park on a whim and catch a game. That was part of what I enjoyed about my minor league experience, and I’m glad those days are back for the Twins. Is there a chance that attendance will fall to a point where the stadium becomes less lively? Of course. I remember some of those days in the Metrodome, and they were not pretty. I hope it never becomes a ghost town on game day. But I for one welcome the return of casual baseball, when I can get up that morning, with nothing planned, and say “Hey, I think I’ll catch a Twins game today.”

It was noted elsewhere that this week attendance dropped below 30,000 at Target Field for the first time in its history. Some saw that as a harbinger of doom, leading to a vicious cycle of depressed revenues followed by lower payroll followed by a poorer product on the field followed by depressed revenues followed by... My own take: At last! This is what I’ve been waiting for since Target Field opened. Don’t get me wrong – it was fun to see a full ballpark for a while. But I’m glad the honeymoon is over. Why? Because I don’t like crowds. That’s not to say I don’t like people. In small, carefully controlled quantities people are great. But I’ve never liked when it gets to the point where you don’t have any elbow room. That’s why I’m always of two minds about going to the State Fair. I enjoy the experience, at first, but after a couple of hours the throngs have begun to wear on me and I start thinking about a quick exit. Thinking back on my tour of the Twins farm system the two most enjoyable game-day experiences were in New Britain and in Elizabethton. In both cases, attendance was about two-thirds of stadium capacity. The other parks felt too empty. At the 2/3-capacity level, though, there was enough crowd to provide a lively atmosphere and yet still enough free seats to be able to spread out and move around and not be crowded (and in one case to flee the merciless rays of the sun). Somewhere in the 65%-75% range felt like a good mix. Translating that metric to Target Field, and you have a desired audience in the 25,000-30,000 range. The concourses are not quite so crowded, the concession stand and restroom lines are more reasonable, and you don’t have to worry about getting seated next to someone who will ... ah... hamper the game-day experience for you. You also have the advantage of flexibility in going to games. One of the things I hated about the first couple of years in the new stadium is the difficulty in making a same-day decision to go see a ballgame. For good parts of those seasons they were sold out in advance. I remember going down one time and having to make the choice between a standing-room ticket and going home empty after having paid for parking. Now, I can look at the weather, see how I feel, and, when the time and mood are right, head out to the park on a whim and catch a game. That was part of what I enjoyed about my minor league experience, and I’m glad those days are back for the Twins. Is there a chance that attendance will fall to a point where the stadium becomes less lively? Of course. I remember some of those days in the Metrodome, and they were not pretty. I hope it never becomes a ghost town on game day. But I for one welcome the return of casual baseball, when I can get up that morning, with nothing planned, and say “Hey, I think I’ll catch a Twins game today.”

As I watched the game on TV last night (trying to put comparative images of The Towering Inferno out of my mind) I found myself wondering why I even loved this game so much. I even tried watching some basketball instead, but inevitably my finger kept moving toward the “last” button on the remote to check back on the game. Why? What is it about baseball that has me so ensnared, even when my home team is the Minnesota Twins? After reflection, here are five reasons I still love the game – even this year. There’s no clock. One of my pet peeves is sports that play games with the clock for competitive advantage. The final two minutes of a basketball game can take fifteen minutes to play. After the two-minute warning football changes its stripes completely and becomes a whole new animal. Hockey is better as you can’t stop the clock in the middle of the action with a time-out, but stalling tactics are still common. But in baseball, you can’t just run out the clock when you have a lead. You have to make that final play, get that last out, before the game can end. I remember watching last year’s World Series. Twice in game six Texas was one pitch away from winning it all. But they couldn’t get that last pitch, and St. Louis ended up winning the series. In baseball you have to finish what you started; there are no shortcuts. The relaxed pace of play. I know the trend these days is for more extreme games, with more speed, more contact, more “rad.” I guess I’m showing my age here, because I like the more deliberate gameplay of baseball. Do the dead times between pitches sometimes get heavy? To be sure. I do prefer a pitcher who cuts that down to a minimum and doesn’t dilly around before getting set up for the next pitch. But I like that you don’t have to keep your eye on the screen every second of every minute for fear of missing the action. It’s easier to pay attention and I prefer the more relaxed atmosphere. I love the sense of history that goes with the game. More than any other of the professional sports, baseball is tied to the history of America. The professional game has roots from before the Civil War and the current league system came into being in the waning days of Reconstruction. Since then baseball has been a part of the American scene. This was something that was driven home to me afresh when I visited Cooperstown this summer. It truly is the national pastime, even if football has usurped it in popularity in recent years. The gap between the “rich” and the “poor” is smaller than the other sports. No, I’m not talking economics here (and certainly not politics). I’m talking about the chances of a home fan seeing a win, regardless of who the home team is. Even the top teams in baseball struggle to win more than 60% of their games, and even the worst teams can usually manage to win 35-40% (Houston excepted, of course). Yes, you have stars, and some teams are perennially better than others, but even a Twins fan like myself can go to the ballpark with a reasonable hope of seeing a win. Hockey is also better in that way (which is part of why I like hockey too, and also because I played it), but in basketball and football if you have a bad team there just isn’t much incentive to go watch the team play. You can go for the atmosphere, for the whole game-day experience, but you don’t go for the game, which you know in advance will probably suck. More than any other sport, a baseball fan of even a bad team can enter the stadium with hope. There’s always tomorrow. I used to love watching football; my family had Vikings season tickets back when they were going to Super Bowls. Now, my interest is almost nonexistant. Why? Because I got tired, whenever the Vikings or Gophers lost, of being depressed for a whole freaking week. Life is too short for that. In baseball, even if you lose, there is always the (decent) chance that tomorrow will be different – you don’t have to wallow in it. Even in a bad season, you can look forward to the next day when maybe they’ll win and you’ll go to bed feeling satisfied rather than depressed. As a person of faith, I like hope. I prefer looking ahead to the good days to come than obsessing over past losses. In baseball I can do that more than the other spectator sports. That’s why I love baseball.

As I watched the game on TV last night (trying to put comparative images of The Towering Inferno out of my mind) I found myself wondering why I even loved this game so much. I even tried watching some basketball instead, but inevitably my finger kept moving toward the “last” button on the remote to check back on the game. Why? What is it about baseball that has me so ensnared, even when my home team is the Minnesota Twins? After reflection, here are five reasons I still love the game – even this year. There’s no clock. One of my pet peeves is sports that play games with the clock for competitive advantage. The final two minutes of a basketball game can take fifteen minutes to play. After the two-minute warning football changes its stripes completely and becomes a whole new animal. Hockey is better as you can’t stop the clock in the middle of the action with a time-out, but stalling tactics are still common. But in baseball, you can’t just run out the clock when you have a lead. You have to make that final play, get that last out, before the game can end. I remember watching last year’s World Series. Twice in game six Texas was one pitch away from winning it all. But they couldn’t get that last pitch, and St. Louis ended up winning the series. In baseball you have to finish what you started; there are no shortcuts. The relaxed pace of play. I know the trend these days is for more extreme games, with more speed, more contact, more “rad.” I guess I’m showing my age here, because I like the more deliberate gameplay of baseball. Do the dead times between pitches sometimes get heavy? To be sure. I do prefer a pitcher who cuts that down to a minimum and doesn’t dilly around before getting set up for the next pitch. But I like that you don’t have to keep your eye on the screen every second of every minute for fear of missing the action. It’s easier to pay attention and I prefer the more relaxed atmosphere. I love the sense of history that goes with the game. More than any other of the professional sports, baseball is tied to the history of America. The professional game has roots from before the Civil War and the current league system came into being in the waning days of Reconstruction. Since then baseball has been a part of the American scene. This was something that was driven home to me afresh when I visited Cooperstown this summer. It truly is the national pastime, even if football has usurped it in popularity in recent years. The gap between the “rich” and the “poor” is smaller than the other sports. No, I’m not talking economics here (and certainly not politics). I’m talking about the chances of a home fan seeing a win, regardless of who the home team is. Even the top teams in baseball struggle to win more than 60% of their games, and even the worst teams can usually manage to win 35-40% (Houston excepted, of course). Yes, you have stars, and some teams are perennially better than others, but even a Twins fan like myself can go to the ballpark with a reasonable hope of seeing a win. Hockey is also better in that way (which is part of why I like hockey too, and also because I played it), but in basketball and football if you have a bad team there just isn’t much incentive to go watch the team play. You can go for the atmosphere, for the whole game-day experience, but you don’t go for the game, which you know in advance will probably suck. More than any other sport, a baseball fan of even a bad team can enter the stadium with hope. There’s always tomorrow. I used to love watching football; my family had Vikings season tickets back when they were going to Super Bowls. Now, my interest is almost nonexistant. Why? Because I got tired, whenever the Vikings or Gophers lost, of being depressed for a whole freaking week. Life is too short for that. In baseball, even if you lose, there is always the (decent) chance that tomorrow will be different – you don’t have to wallow in it. Even in a bad season, you can look forward to the next day when maybe they’ll win and you’ll go to bed feeling satisfied rather than depressed. As a person of faith, I like hope. I prefer looking ahead to the good days to come than obsessing over past losses. In baseball I can do that more than the other spectator sports. That’s why I love baseball.

Nice summary. I guess the one question I really have is, if there is a genuine interest in moving a Single-A team to St. Paul, which one would it be? You have to have a willing seller, so if Beloit wants they can keep their club and have a guaranteed affiliation with somebody as long as they want. That's of course if their facilities are considered suitable enough for the Midwest League. Is that standard changing? Are Beloit's facilities so under par that organized basebal would let they team be ejected from the Midwest league and a new franchise awarded? And are there any other franchises for sale that could be moved? Any thoughts?

So what kind of fan am I? When I was in Fort Myers that was one of the season-long advertising gimmicks they were touting – the varied nature of those who attend ballgames. Yesterday, attending my first Twins game since my minor league trip (I love watching a pitching duel!), I found myself thinking back to the various minor league parks I was at and comparing them to the relative cathedral that is Target Field. I also found myself thinking about who had attended those games, and who I saw around me last night. I have never been a big fan of “there are two types of people...” mantras, but in this case it seems appropriate. On the one hand there are those for whom the game itself actually matters, whose primary purpose in attending is to watch and follow a game of baseball. There are various subgroups they divide into, which I will touch on later, but for them the game itself is the center of the experience. Then there is the other segment for which the game may be interesting but they are there more for the whole package, on-field and off-field. This includes the family outings with kids (most of whom have lost interest in the game by the fourth inning but still enjoy going to the park); it includes those who focus as much or more on the culinary options than upon the construction of the lineup; it includes those who are there for special events or group outings, or who are attending their first game with a group of their friends. Personally I tend to fall into the first group – when I go to a baseball game, I want to focus on the baseball (which is part of why I like keeping score so much – it keeps me focused on the action on the field). I suspect, however, that I am in the minority on most nights. Even in that first group I see some differentiation, however. There are those who are schooled in the game, most of whom have played the game itself. These are they who know the nuances of how the game is played, who recognize the variations in where the fielders station themselves based on situation, who can tell a “good at-bat” from a “bad at-bat,” and who avidly watch, not just the pitch, but the pitch location and type, watching a gameplan unfold for each hitter. For the rest of us (and I include myself in this) we simply watch to see what happens, much as we watch the Vikings, enjoying the action but not really seeing the defensive shifts and offensive strategies or recognizing the meaning of the substitutions. One of my fellow participants on this site has a signature line “Baseball is like church; many attend but few understand.” Being in the “church business” myself I recognize how true this is in reference to religion, and I accept that in baseball I am one of the multitudes who attends but doesn’t truly see what it is I am seeing. Some days I think it would be neat to learn what it is I am missing, to become a true student; other days I am happy where I am at, just watching the action unfold. There is also another differentiation among those who attend for the game itself, or among those who are fans in any sense. There are those for whom the driving goal is to win championships, to “win silverware” as they say overseas. For this group, everything should be done with this in mind. If that means gutting a team for young prospects to increase the odds of success three years down the line, then the question is “why haven’t we done that yet?” Another group, and I put myself in this category, doesn’t go to the ballpark with hopes and dreams for 2015; we want to see a good game tonight. Competitiveness, even in a down year, is something we value. That’s not to say I don’t dream of another World Series win as much as the next; I would love to see it happen. But what is more important to me is that, going to the ballpark, I have a reasonable chance of watching a Twins win, and that it be a well-played game regardless. So where is all of this going? Just with the realization that all of these various types of fans have to be part of the equation. No one fan type is more or less worthy; no one group is right, and no one group is wrong. The job of the Twins (and any organization that plays a spectator sport) is to find ways to speak to all of the above. It’s important to put a quality product on the field; it is also important to pay attention to the rest of the game-day experience (that’s why I’m not as cynical as some when the Twins spend promotional effort highlighting a new culinary option). Certainly any organization wants to win championship, but at the same time there have to be players on the field who can excite the crowd today, not just three years from now. Is this going to create tension among the fanbase? Inevitably. Do you trade Morneau for prospects or keep a crowd favorite even if he is on the wrong-side of the career bell curve? Do you spend your money fixing the rotation or sprucing up the ballpark? The challenge is to do both, to find the right balance, to find a way to simultaneously appeal to both the purists and to those who just want to have a fun night at the ballpark. Because both matter.

So what kind of fan am I? When I was in Fort Myers that was one of the season-long advertising gimmicks they were touting – the varied nature of those who attend ballgames. Yesterday, attending my first Twins game since my minor league trip (I love watching a pitching duel!), I found myself thinking back to the various minor league parks I was at and comparing them to the relative cathedral that is Target Field. I also found myself thinking about who had attended those games, and who I saw around me last night. I have never been a big fan of “there are two types of people...” mantras, but in this case it seems appropriate. On the one hand there are those for whom the game itself actually matters, whose primary purpose in attending is to watch and follow a game of baseball. There are various subgroups they divide into, which I will touch on later, but for them the game itself is the center of the experience. Then there is the other segment for which the game may be interesting but they are there more for the whole package, on-field and off-field. This includes the family outings with kids (most of whom have lost interest in the game by the fourth inning but still enjoy going to the park); it includes those who focus as much or more on the culinary options than upon the construction of the lineup; it includes those who are there for special events or group outings, or who are attending their first game with a group of their friends. Personally I tend to fall into the first group – when I go to a baseball game, I want to focus on the baseball (which is part of why I like keeping score so much – it keeps me focused on the action on the field). I suspect, however, that I am in the minority on most nights. Even in that first group I see some differentiation, however. There are those who are schooled in the game, most of whom have played the game itself. These are they who know the nuances of how the game is played, who recognize the variations in where the fielders station themselves based on situation, who can tell a “good at-bat” from a “bad at-bat,” and who avidly watch, not just the pitch, but the pitch location and type, watching a gameplan unfold for each hitter. For the rest of us (and I include myself in this) we simply watch to see what happens, much as we watch the Vikings, enjoying the action but not really seeing the defensive shifts and offensive strategies or recognizing the meaning of the substitutions. One of my fellow participants on this site has a signature line “Baseball is like church; many attend but few understand.” Being in the “church business” myself I recognize how true this is in reference to religion, and I accept that in baseball I am one of the multitudes who attends but doesn’t truly see what it is I am seeing. Some days I think it would be neat to learn what it is I am missing, to become a true student; other days I am happy where I am at, just watching the action unfold. There is also another differentiation among those who attend for the game itself, or among those who are fans in any sense. There are those for whom the driving goal is to win championships, to “win silverware” as they say overseas. For this group, everything should be done with this in mind. If that means gutting a team for young prospects to increase the odds of success three years down the line, then the question is “why haven’t we done that yet?” Another group, and I put myself in this category, doesn’t go to the ballpark with hopes and dreams for 2015; we want to see a good game tonight. Competitiveness, even in a down year, is something we value. That’s not to say I don’t dream of another World Series win as much as the next; I would love to see it happen. But what is more important to me is that, going to the ballpark, I have a reasonable chance of watching a Twins win, and that it be a well-played game regardless. So where is all of this going? Just with the realization that all of these various types of fans have to be part of the equation. No one fan type is more or less worthy; no one group is right, and no one group is wrong. The job of the Twins (and any organization that plays a spectator sport) is to find ways to speak to all of the above. It’s important to put a quality product on the field; it is also important to pay attention to the rest of the game-day experience (that’s why I’m not as cynical as some when the Twins spend promotional effort highlighting a new culinary option). Certainly any organization wants to win championship, but at the same time there have to be players on the field who can excite the crowd today, not just three years from now. Is this going to create tension among the fanbase? Inevitably. Do you trade Morneau for prospects or keep a crowd favorite even if he is on the wrong-side of the career bell curve? Do you spend your money fixing the rotation or sprucing up the ballpark? The challenge is to do both, to find the right balance, to find a way to simultaneously appeal to both the purists and to those who just want to have a fun night at the ballpark. Because both matter.

I'm not opposed to giving him a chance - at this point, why not? I do believe, though, that statistics can be misleading. Hendriks has great stats in AAA and has not been able to perform in MLB. Parmelee has great stats in AAA, but let's not forget he started the season with the big club and was sent down for non-performance. I believe both will be back, but it does show that there is a gap between AAA performance and MLB performance. Somehow that has to be evaluated, and some will bridge that gap and some won't, and I'll leave it to others better trained than I to evalute which camp each players falls into.

So now that last night’s game is over and we have all had a good night’s sleep, what do we take away from what happened in the third inning yesterday? The first thing is to just recognize that this may not be over. Both pitchers gave the obligatory “I didn’t mean to do it” quotes after the game; everybody has learned the Cole Hamels/Bryce Harper lesson well. I can’t speak for the rest of you, but I didn’t buy either of those quotes last night, and I doubt MLB will either. Diamond’s pitch was more obvious and deserving of an ejection (although I did notice Hamilton dodged in such a way as the pitch came closer to his head than if he had just taken it), but I have no doubt that the commissioner’s office will believe Oswalt’s was intentional also, even if it was a tad less obvious. There may be repercussions for one or both players after the game is reviewed, or the league may choose to look the other way and accept the post-game statements at face-value. Given that, in today’s climate of concern about concussions, any pitch deemed thrown near the head with even a whiff of intentionality is going to merit an immediate ejection (and possible future suspension), is it still possible to allow the players to police themselves, as in the “good old days?” I believe so, and this blog entry gives my thoughts on that. I say up front that I speak strictly as a fan, having only watched many games on TV and in person. I have never actually played the game (unless you count one forgettable year in Little League minor league), and I know that puts me at a fairly large disadvantage when talking about a subject like this, but here are my thoughts nonetheless, for whatever value, if any, they have. I take my cue from asking the question, “Why didn’t Wally Bell issue a warning after the Oswalt pitch to Mauer?” Certainly if he had even a suspicion that it was intentional, and would normally draw a response, would that not be the practical course to take? Unless – you intended to let the other team get their “payback” before stepping in to make sure it didn’t progress beyond that. I have no inside knowledge for this other than my own hunch and intuition, but to me it makes sense. My suspicion is Bell didn’t want to close the door for Minnesota to respond in kind, in accord with the “unwritten rules” of the game. What forced Bell’s hand was a) the fact that the payback came on the first pitch, when everybody in the stadium was waiting for it to happen, and the fact that it came near his head. So how should Diamond do this in the future? First, it would be desirable to have an at-bat or two intervening, to break the sense of tit-for-tat. I understand, though, that the next at-bat for Hamilton came up in the situation best designed for retaliation – early in the game, with none on, when it probably won’t matter much putting the guy on base. So I’ll grant him that. Next time, though, I would make sure it wasn’t on the first pitch. Maybe a 2-0 or a 3-0 count. Throw a pitch high and outside, throw one low in the dirt and to the backstop (there was no one on base, remember), and then he has established his “wildness” for that at-bat. The next pitch can go right in the ribs and not look quite so out of place or intentional. It gives the umpire a plausible excuse to look the other way and issue warnings to both benches instead of an ejection, which is exactly what I think Bell was looking for. And then, of course, you need to keep the ball down. The game has changed; head-hunting is not allowed even if it’s a proportional response to an earlier play in the game. I will give Diamond the benefit of the doubt here and assume the ball sailed up a little higher than he actually intended (and I suppose, if I’m to be completely fair, I’ll give Oswalt that same benefit – he meant to hit him, but not quite so high up). Keeping the ball down to the numbers or lower would send the message as effectively as can be done in the current era. One last thought – kudos to Gardenhire for coming out as well. He obviously knew he was going to get tossed when he did, but it was good to see him standing up for his player (particularly if he called the play?) and not let him be the only one sent off. I’ve been critical of Gardy in the past for getting sent off too frequently, but this one was legit.

So now that last night’s game is over and we have all had a good night’s sleep, what do we take away from what happened in the third inning yesterday? The first thing is to just recognize that this may not be over. Both pitchers gave the obligatory “I didn’t mean to do it” quotes after the game; everybody has learned the Cole Hamels/Bryce Harper lesson well. I can’t speak for the rest of you, but I didn’t buy either of those quotes last night, and I doubt MLB will either. Diamond’s pitch was more obvious and deserving of an ejection (although I did notice Hamilton dodged in such a way as the pitch came closer to his head than if he had just taken it), but I have no doubt that the commissioner’s office will believe Oswalt’s was intentional also, even if it was a tad less obvious. There may be repercussions for one or both players after the game is reviewed, or the league may choose to look the other way and accept the post-game statements at face-value. Given that, in today’s climate of concern about concussions, any pitch deemed thrown near the head with even a whiff of intentionality is going to merit an immediate ejection (and possible future suspension), is it still possible to allow the players to police themselves, as in the “good old days?” I believe so, and this blog entry gives my thoughts on that. I say up front that I speak strictly as a fan, having only watched many games on TV and in person. I have never actually played the game (unless you count one forgettable year in Little League minor league), and I know that puts me at a fairly large disadvantage when talking about a subject like this, but here are my thoughts nonetheless, for whatever value, if any, they have. I take my cue from asking the question, “Why didn’t Wally Bell issue a warning after the Oswalt pitch to Mauer?” Certainly if he had even a suspicion that it was intentional, and would normally draw a response, would that not be the practical course to take? Unless – you intended to let the other team get their “payback” before stepping in to make sure it didn’t progress beyond that. I have no inside knowledge for this other than my own hunch and intuition, but to me it makes sense. My suspicion is Bell didn’t want to close the door for Minnesota to respond in kind, in accord with the “unwritten rules” of the game. What forced Bell’s hand was a) the fact that the payback came on the first pitch, when everybody in the stadium was waiting for it to happen, and the fact that it came near his head. So how should Diamond do this in the future? First, it would be desirable to have an at-bat or two intervening, to break the sense of tit-for-tat. I understand, though, that the next at-bat for Hamilton came up in the situation best designed for retaliation – early in the game, with none on, when it probably won’t matter much putting the guy on base. So I’ll grant him that. Next time, though, I would make sure it wasn’t on the first pitch. Maybe a 2-0 or a 3-0 count. Throw a pitch high and outside, throw one low in the dirt and to the backstop (there was no one on base, remember), and then he has established his “wildness” for that at-bat. The next pitch can go right in the ribs and not look quite so out of place or intentional. It gives the umpire a plausible excuse to look the other way and issue warnings to both benches instead of an ejection, which is exactly what I think Bell was looking for. And then, of course, you need to keep the ball down. The game has changed; head-hunting is not allowed even if it’s a proportional response to an earlier play in the game. I will give Diamond the benefit of the doubt here and assume the ball sailed up a little higher than he actually intended (and I suppose, if I’m to be completely fair, I’ll give Oswalt that same benefit – he meant to hit him, but not quite so high up). Keeping the ball down to the numbers or lower would send the message as effectively as can be done in the current era. One last thought – kudos to Gardenhire for coming out as well. He obviously knew he was going to get tossed when he did, but it was good to see him standing up for his player (particularly if he called the play?) and not let him be the only one sent off. I’ve been critical of Gardy in the past for getting sent off too frequently, but this one was legit.

Also, Eric Hurley was released by the Twins. He had been at Rochester. It never got reported on MiLB.com, but it was in BaseballAmerica's weekly list.

Note: This is the last in a series of blog entries detailing my game experiences on a road trip to see all the Twins minor league affiliates in their home parks. For those interested, links to previous entries are listed at the end in chronological order. After a quiet day visiting one of the local state parks and catching a matinee I head out to Frontier Field again. This time it is a beautiful night for baseball and while I am sad that this is the last game of the trip I can’t think of a better way to go out. The parking lot is actually fairly full tonight, and walking up to the ticket windows I see six are in operation, with a line at each (yesterday there was one, with no waiting). Looking around the stadium during the game, it is a nice contrast with yesterday, and when they announce the attendance of 6,700 it seems about right. I get my promised “double pig” macaroni & cheese (with bacon and ham mixed in) and head to my seat. Today I’m back behind home plate (slightly to the third base side), three rows up. From here I can see the rest of the Rochester skyline that eluded me yesterday. This is obviously season-ticket territory; most of the patrons sitting around me are on a first-name basis with their neighbors. I am next to a family with two small kids, and I make a mental bet with myself that they won’t last through five innings. I am proven right when, in the middle of the fourth, the mother takes the two kids to a grass berm area to play while the father stays behind to watch the game. As I get settled, the club president is presenting awards on the field for the largest groups of the year. After he is done and a couple of ceremonial pitches are thrown a local boy scout troop presents the colors and a trumpet duet does a nicely arranged version of the national anthem. It is probably the best anthem I’ve heard on this trip. The starting lineups are announced, and leading off the order for Rochester will be two players just optioned from the parent club, Tsuyoshi Nishioka and Brian Dozier, playing second and short respectively. You can tell that Dozier has just gotten in, as they haven’t even had time to put his name on his uniform yet – he is wearing an unadorned #11. The preliminaries are finally done and it is time for the final game on this trip to start. Rochester gets on the board first in the bottom half of the opening frame, with Nishioka hitting a solid single to right center and Parmelee walking. Then, with two out, Clete Thomas hits a double down the left field line into the corner and the Red Wings stake themselves to a 2-0 lead. After that, the game settles into a groove, with each side getting the occasional baserunner but not being able to seal the deal. It almost feels like two fighters probing, gradually feeling each other out looking for a weakness. On the Rochester side there is none, as Esmerling Vazquez pitches a beautiful seven innings and never lets Indianapolis string anything together. They manage four hits and two walks, but that is more than outweighed by Vazquez’s ten strikeouts (the last of which, to end the seventh, sends the crowd into a frenzy as it is the game’s “K-Man,” meaning everybody gets a free taco at Taco Bell). Even though the game is tight, I never get the sense that the crowd is worried. The game notes in my program say that the Red Wings have the best record in the league since July 1st (26-16), and I get the impression that they are confident that a two-run lead can hold. Fortunately, it doesn’t have to, as Rochester breaks the game open in the bottom of the seventh. With a new Indianapolis pitcher, Wilkin Ramirez takes first after being hit by a pitch. Then Escobar, of Liriano trade fame, hits a beautiful sacrifice bunt down the third base line; the fielder has to hustle to make the play and ends up bouncing the ball to first and everybody is safe on the error. The stage is set for Evan Bigley, who wallops one over the left field fence, scoring three more and giving everybody the sense that the game is effectively over. The Red Wings add one more in the eighth as Ramirez doubles home Thomas. Deolis Guerra takes over from Vazquez to start the eighth and he promptly strikes out the side on nine pitches. In the ninth he starts to get hit hard, including giving up two on a long homer, but he has just enough to cross the finish line, and Rochester wins 6-2. It is the perfect end to a perfect night of baseball. And so the road trip ends on a satisfying note, with a final record of 7-2-1. Tomorrow I head my car west for Minneapolis and home. *** AWARDS Best Stadium Setting: Elizabethton, TN, for the scenic beauty (Honorable Mention for Rochester, NY, for its urban setting and skyline) Best Game Day Experience: New Britain Rock Cats Most Exciting Home Runs: All of them, but special mentions to Miguel Sano, Oswaldo Arcia, & Evan Bigley. Best Performance by a Starting Pitcher: Esmerling Vazquez, Rochester Red Wings (Runner-up: Trevor May, Reading Phillies) Best Hot Dog: Hammond Stadium, Fort Myers, FL Links to previous entries http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1594-Minor-League-Odyssey-Day-One-Beloit http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1610-Minor-League-Odyssey-Day-Two-Beloit http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1618-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Five-(Game-Three)-Elizabethton http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1620-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Six-(Game-Four)-Elizabethton http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1645-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Bonus-Coverage-–-GCL-Twins http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1653-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Eight-–-Game-Five-(Fort-Myers) http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1662-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Nine-–-Game-Six-(Fort-Myers) http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1671-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Eleven-–-Interlude http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1681-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Twelve-–-New-Britain-(Game-Seven) http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1696-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Thirteen-–-New-Britain-(Game-Eight) http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1707-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Fifteen-–-Rochester-(Game-Nine)

Note: This is the last in a series of blog entries detailing my game experiences on a road trip to see all the Twins minor league affiliates in their home parks. For those interested, links to previous entries are listed at the end in chronological order. After a quiet day visiting one of the local state parks and catching a matinee I head out to Frontier Field again. This time it is a beautiful night for baseball and while I am sad that this is the last game of the trip I can’t think of a better way to go out. The parking lot is actually fairly full tonight, and walking up to the ticket windows I see six are in operation, with a line at each (yesterday there was one, with no waiting). Looking around the stadium during the game, it is a nice contrast with yesterday, and when they announce the attendance of 6,700 it seems about right. I get my promised “double pig” macaroni & cheese (with bacon and ham mixed in) and head to my seat. Today I’m back behind home plate (slightly to the third base side), three rows up. From here I can see the rest of the Rochester skyline that eluded me yesterday. This is obviously season-ticket territory; most of the patrons sitting around me are on a first-name basis with their neighbors. I am next to a family with two small kids, and I make a mental bet with myself that they won’t last through five innings. I am proven right when, in the middle of the fourth, the mother takes the two kids to a grass berm area to play while the father stays behind to watch the game. As I get settled, the club president is presenting awards on the field for the largest groups of the year. After he is done and a couple of ceremonial pitches are thrown a local boy scout troop presents the colors and a trumpet duet does a nicely arranged version of the national anthem. It is probably the best anthem I’ve heard on this trip. The starting lineups are announced, and leading off the order for Rochester will be two players just optioned from the parent club, Tsuyoshi Nishioka and Brian Dozier, playing second and short respectively. You can tell that Dozier has just gotten in, as they haven’t even had time to put his name on his uniform yet – he is wearing an unadorned #11. The preliminaries are finally done and it is time for the final game on this trip to start. Rochester gets on the board first in the bottom half of the opening frame, with Nishioka hitting a solid single to right center and Parmelee walking. Then, with two out, Clete Thomas hits a double down the left field line into the corner and the Red Wings stake themselves to a 2-0 lead. After that, the game settles into a groove, with each side getting the occasional baserunner but not being able to seal the deal. It almost feels like two fighters probing, gradually feeling each other out looking for a weakness. On the Rochester side there is none, as Esmerling Vazquez pitches a beautiful seven innings and never lets Indianapolis string anything together. They manage four hits and two walks, but that is more than outweighed by Vazquez’s ten strikeouts (the last of which, to end the seventh, sends the crowd into a frenzy as it is the game’s “K-Man,” meaning everybody gets a free taco at Taco Bell). Even though the game is tight, I never get the sense that the crowd is worried. The game notes in my program say that the Red Wings have the best record in the league since July 1st (26-16), and I get the impression that they are confident that a two-run lead can hold. Fortunately, it doesn’t have to, as Rochester breaks the game open in the bottom of the seventh. With a new Indianapolis pitcher, Wilkin Ramirez takes first after being hit by a pitch. Then Escobar, of Liriano trade fame, hits a beautiful sacrifice bunt down the third base line; the fielder has to hustle to make the play and ends up bouncing the ball to first and everybody is safe on the error. The stage is set for Evan Bigley, who wallops one over the left field fence, scoring three more and giving everybody the sense that the game is effectively over. The Red Wings add one more in the eighth as Ramirez doubles home Thomas. Deolis Guerra takes over from Vazquez to start the eighth and he promptly strikes out the side on nine pitches. In the ninth he starts to get hit hard, including giving up two on a long homer, but he has just enough to cross the finish line, and Rochester wins 6-2. It is the perfect end to a perfect night of baseball. And so the road trip ends on a satisfying note, with a final record of 7-2-1. Tomorrow I head my car west for Minneapolis and home. *** AWARDS Best Stadium Setting: Elizabethton, TN, for the scenic beauty (Honorable Mention for Rochester, NY, for its urban setting and skyline) Best Game Day Experience: New Britain Rock Cats Most Exciting Home Runs: All of them, but special mentions to Miguel Sano, Oswaldo Arcia, & Evan Bigley. Best Performance by a Starting Pitcher: Esmerling Vazquez, Rochester Red Wings (Runner-up: Trevor May, Reading Phillies) Best Hot Dog: Hammond Stadium, Fort Myers, FL Links to previous entries http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1594-Minor-League-Odyssey-Day-One-Beloit http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1610-Minor-League-Odyssey-Day-Two-Beloit http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1618-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Five-(Game-Three)-Elizabethton http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1620-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Six-(Game-Four)-Elizabethton http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1645-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Bonus-Coverage-–-GCL-Twins http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1653-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Eight-–-Game-Five-(Fort-Myers) http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1662-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Nine-–-Game-Six-(Fort-Myers) http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1671-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Eleven-–-Interlude http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1681-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Twelve-–-New-Britain-(Game-Seven) http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1696-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Thirteen-–-New-Britain-(Game-Eight) http://www.twinsdaily.com/entry.php?1707-Minor-League-Odyssey-–-Day-Fifteen-–-Rochester-(Game-Nine)

I actually think I've done rather well weather-wise this trip, with the exception of Elizabethton. And tonight looks like a beautiful night to finish the trip off (except for the drive home, of course).

By late afternoon I am wondering if the game tonight is going to happen. A series of strong afternoon thunderstorms has come through the area and the rain has been heavy. The Red Wings do a good job, though, of keeping the public informed on their website of the game’s status, updating it regularly (are you listening, Twins?) and at 5:30 it is announced that the game is definitively on; the gates will open at 6pm, rain or no rain! Putting on my jeans (I have been wearing shorts the entire trip) and digging out my fleece sweater-jacket, just in case, I head out for Frontier Field. The stadium is in downtown Rochester, on the west edge of town and facing the center of the city (although you can’t quite see the downtown skyline). Looking over to left field you see the Kodak Tower, headquarters of Eastman Kodak and once the tallest building in Rochester. Parking is right next to the stadium in the Kodak company lots ($6, unless it is a weekday afternoon game, in which case the lots are reserved for Kodak employees and fans are on their own). Railroad tracks pass down the south side of the stadium, and periodically throughout the night locomotives will chug by, blowing their whistles (each time I manage to resist the urge to yell out “Train!”). The stadium itself has a capacity slightly over 10,000 and was opened in 1996, which is surprising as it somehow feels older than that. Perhaps it is the emptiness of the seats – announced attendance is 4,700, but I don’t believe it; I would have guessed half that, probably weather related. Getting to the ticket window I resignedly ask if they have any seats that are dry. To my pleasant surprise the answer is yes, and I get my $8 reserved seat ticket to one of the two areas in the stadium covered by a roof overhang. I will not have to sit three hours watching baseball in wet blue jeans! The downside is that the seat is near the top of the stadium, and for the first time on the trip I am watching the game from a distance instead of being right near the action. Wandering through the stadium to survey the food choices I opt for the double-sized roast beef sandwich, promising myself to sample the specialty mac-n-cheese the next evening. The stadium has several plazas with tables and benches at which to sit while dining, so I avail myself of one and flip through my souvenir program. Before I know it, time has flown and they are playing the national anthem, so I hurry to my seat before the first pitch, managing to bob and weave like a professional boxer around an army of mascots (it is mascot night here at Frontier Field) all trying to make physical contact. P.J. Walters is making a rehab start, and he begins slowly with seven straight balls. He gets a sarcastic cheer from the crowd when he finally gets one over for a strike, but he ends up walking the batter anyway and gives up a single to the next. That turns out to be the extant of the damage, though, as after that he seems to settle down, getting out of the inning and working efficiently into the third. I am a bit surprised when they pull him after only ten batters (and after just giving up his second hit); hopefully it’s just he was on a pitch count and not a re-injury. David Bromberg comes in and pitches quite well for another four-plus innings before starting to fade in the seventh and giving way to Daniel Turpen. Put them all together and you have five hits and two walks scattered across eight innings and a shutout going into the ninth. Meanwhile, Rochester has been scratching their way ahead, run by run. In the third Michael Chang leads off with a grounder to the third baseman. It looks to be an out, but the first baseman casually steps off the bag moments before the ball hits his glove. I half expect the umpire to call Chang out anyway, as I’ve seen that before, but he calls it straight and Chang is safe. It turns out to be an important call. Lehmann moves him over to third on a nice double down the left field line, and two batters later Dinkelman hits a weak grounder to the right side of the infield, being thrown out but also scoring the first run of the game. In the fourth Matt Carson leads off with a fly that just clears the fence in straight-away center. Then, in the seventh, Parmelee and Carson hit consecutive doubles deep in the park, and Rochester is up 3-0. Turpen struggles in the ninth and is pulled after giving up two consecutive hits and a walk, putting the tying run on first, but Anthony Slama comes in (with the crowd making as much noise as I’ve heard in about three innings) and strikes out the final batter, sealing the Red Wings 3-1 win. Not much interesting in the promotion/contest department, but one nice touch was in the middle of the seventh when they played “God Bless America” while on the video screen pictures of those serving in the armed forces, with names and ranks, were displayed. It was nicely done. *** Getting into Rochester late yesterday pays off in having two full days to see sites in the area, as both games are night games. I take advantage of this today by driving west about seventy miles to Niagara Falls. I have been there before, but they are impressive nonetheless. I pay my $10 parking fee (which I considered quite reasonable, actually, all things considered) and look around the site. I consider going on the Maid of the Mist boat trip and taking the Cave of the Winds hike at the base of the falls, but decide I am not in the mood to get wet today, so I pass on both. Instead, I take the walking path around the perimeter of Goat Island, which separates the American falls from the Canadian falls. I am about half-way around (and at the farthest point from my car, of course) when it starts to rain. *sigh*