Ben Reimler

There will always be baseball fans, and baseball fans live across Twins Territory. So there will always be some interest in the hometown nine, but let’s face it: that interest is shrinking. To treat this as just another offseason, then, misses the mark. This organization is in crisis, losing more fans than any other team in baseball, with attendance falling for three straight seasons. Is it interesting who the Twins could target on the free-agent market or what trades they could swing? Sure, I suppose. Though, let’s be honest, I suspect those moves will be just as uninspired as they have been since the infamous payroll slashing after 2023. But Twins media needs to confront more systemic and fundamental questions: when can we expect the Twins to be serious playoff contenders rather than flirting with a Wild Card while two AL Central rivals play in October? What has Jeremy Zoll done to earn the trust of Twins fans to lead this organization’s baseball operations? And when, oh when, will the Pohlad family sell this franchise?
Since the Minnesota Twins’ inaugural season at Target Field in 2010, no other organization has lost more fans coming through their gates each year. Twins attendance has fallen by an average of about 76,000 fans per season (excluding the pandemic-affected 2020 and 2021 seasons), from 3.22 million in 2010 to 1.74 million in 2026: nearly 1.5 million fewer fans through the gates.
This is the clearest data point, but it reflects broader apathy across Twins Territory and a growing rot within the organization. And it isn’t a league-wide problem: MLB drew about 72 million fans in 2026, only slightly below the 73 million it drew in 2010. Nor is it simply about wins and losses; even the 101-win “Bomba Squad” of 2019 drew just 2.3 million. The remaining fans who still follow the club are angry and disappointed with the lack of success in October (just two playoff series wins since 1991) and more losing than winning seasons since their last championship run (19 losing seasons to 16 winning ones), but much of Twins Territory has simply stopped caring, a potentially terminal diagnosis for a professional sports franchise; this is an organization slowly spiraling into irrelevance.
I realize that’s provocative. The Minnesota Twins won’t be contracted this offseason, so it is still relevant which middling reliever they will sign, and whether they can swing a trade for a middle-of-the-order bat. But truthfully, to allow topics like this to be the primary focus this winter feels willfully ignorant.
Let’s state the obvious: the Pohlad family has to sell this franchise. They have been bad stewards of an atrophied franchise. Before an inexplicable promotion to President of Baseball and Business Operations in March 2025, Derek Falvey had missed the playoffs just as often as he had steered the Twins to the postseason. Not to mention, the Twins never got further than the Division Series under Falvey’s tenure. The Pohlad family decided this performance was worthy of a promotion. When Falvey left less than a year later, rather than exhibit any curiosity or engage in any internal reflection, casting out for a leader that could raise this organization to new heights––someone with a track record of taking a broken organization and turning around a culture––the new face of the Pohlad ownership group, Tom Pohlad, decided that Jeremy Zoll, Falvey’s right-hand, would be sufficient to helm the front office. A similar pattern unfolded in October 2025, when the Twins replaced Rocco Baldelli with Derek Shelton, Baldelli’s bench coach in 2019, who had just been fired by the Pirates after going 306-440 in Pittsburgh. All of this is evidence that the Pohlad family does not care about striving for a winning culture or transforming this organization, and Twins Territory has followed the family’s lead: they have stopped caring too.
In the movie Moneyball, Jonah Hill’s character, the fictional Peter Brand, tells Billy Beane: “There is an epidemic failure within the game to understand what is really happening.” I fear the same has happened with Twins observers and media. To treat each losing season and early playoff exit as if it could be fixed by underwhelming offseason moves, year after year, has missed the forest for the trees; while Twins insiders debate which platoon outfielder the Twins could target, we have missed that much of Twins Territory has stopped listening.

There will always be baseball fans, and baseball fans live across Twins Territory. So there will always be some interest in the hometown nine, but let’s face it: that interest is shrinking. To treat this as just another offseason, then, misses the mark. This organization is in crisis, losing more fans than any other team in baseball, with attendance falling for three straight seasons. Is it interesting who the Twins could target on the free-agent market or what trades they could swing? Sure, I suppose. Though, let’s be honest, I suspect those moves will be just as uninspired as they have been since the infamous payroll slashing after 2023. But Twins media needs to confront more systemic and fundamental questions: when can we expect the Twins to be serious playoff contenders rather than flirting with a Wild Card while two AL Central rivals play in October? What has Jeremy Zoll done to earn the trust of Twins fans to lead this organization’s baseball operations? And when, oh when, will the Pohlad family sell this franchise?
Since the Minnesota Twins’ inaugural season at Target Field in 2010, no other organization has lost more fans coming through their gates each year. Twins attendance has fallen by an average of about 76,000 fans per season (excluding the pandemic-affected 2020 and 2021 seasons), from 3.22 million in 2010 to 1.74 million in 2026: nearly 1.5 million fewer fans through the gates.
This is the clearest data point, but it reflects broader apathy across Twins Territory and a growing rot within the organization. And it isn’t a league-wide problem: MLB drew about 72 million fans in 2026, only slightly below the 73 million it drew in 2010. Nor is it simply about wins and losses; even the 101-win “Bomba Squad” of 2019 drew just 2.3 million. The remaining fans who still follow the club are angry and disappointed with the lack of success in October (just two playoff series wins since 1991) and more losing than winning seasons since their last championship run (19 losing seasons to 16 winning ones), but much of Twins Territory has simply stopped caring, a potentially terminal diagnosis for a professional sports franchise; this is an organization slowly spiraling into irrelevance.
I realize that’s provocative. The Minnesota Twins won’t be contracted this offseason, so it is still relevant which middling reliever they will sign, and whether they can swing a trade for a middle-of-the-order bat. But truthfully, to allow topics like this to be the primary focus this winter feels willfully ignorant.
Let’s state the obvious: the Pohlad family has to sell this franchise. They have been bad stewards of an atrophied franchise. Before an inexplicable promotion to President of Baseball and Business Operations in March 2025, Derek Falvey had missed the playoffs just as often as he had steered the Twins to the postseason. Not to mention, the Twins never got further than the Division Series under Falvey’s tenure. The Pohlad family decided this performance was worthy of a promotion. When Falvey left less than a year later, rather than exhibit any curiosity or engage in any internal reflection, casting out for a leader that could raise this organization to new heights––someone with a track record of taking a broken organization and turning around a culture––the new face of the Pohlad ownership group, Tom Pohlad, decided that Jeremy Zoll, Falvey’s right-hand, would be sufficient to helm the front office. A similar pattern unfolded in October 2025, when the Twins replaced Rocco Baldelli with Derek Shelton, Baldelli’s bench coach in 2019, who had just been fired by the Pirates after going 306-440 in Pittsburgh. All of this is evidence that the Pohlad family does not care about striving for a winning culture or transforming this organization, and Twins Territory has followed the family’s lead: they have stopped caring too.
In the movie Moneyball, Jonah Hill’s character, the fictional Peter Brand, tells Billy Beane: “There is an epidemic failure within the game to understand what is really happening.” I fear the same has happened with Twins observers and media. To treat each losing season and early playoff exit as if it could be fixed by underwhelming offseason moves, year after year, has missed the forest for the trees; while Twins insiders debate which platoon outfielder the Twins could target, we have missed that much of Twins Territory has stopped listening.

There will always be baseball fans, and baseball fans live across Twins Territory. So there will always be some interest in the hometown nine, but let’s face it: that interest is shrinking. To treat this as just another offseason, then, misses the mark. This organization is in crisis, losing more fans than any other team in baseball, with attendance falling for three straight seasons. Is it interesting who the Twins could target on the free-agent market or what trades they could swing? Sure, I suppose. Though, let’s be honest, I suspect those moves will be just as uninspired as they have been since the infamous payroll slashing after 2023. But Twins media needs to confront more systemic and fundamental questions: when can we expect the Twins to be serious playoff contenders rather than flirting with a Wild Card while two AL Central rivals play in October? What has Jeremy Zoll done to earn the trust of Twins fans to lead this organization’s baseball operations? And when, oh when, will the Pohlad family sell this franchise?
Since the Minnesota Twins’ inaugural season at Target Field in 2010, no other organization has lost more fans coming through their gates each year. Twins attendance has fallen by an average of about 76,000 fans per season (excluding the pandemic-affected 2020 and 2021 seasons), from 3.22 million in 2010 to 1.74 million in 2026: nearly 1.5 million fewer fans through the gates.
This is the clearest data point, but it reflects broader apathy across Twins Territory and a growing rot within the organization. And it isn’t a league-wide problem: MLB drew about 72 million fans in 2026, only slightly below the 73 million it drew in 2010. Nor is it simply about wins and losses; even the 101-win “Bomba Squad” of 2019 drew just 2.3 million. The remaining fans who still follow the club are angry and disappointed with the lack of success in October (just two playoff series wins since 1991) and more losing than winning seasons since their last championship run (19 losing seasons to 16 winning ones), but much of Twins Territory has simply stopped caring, a potentially terminal diagnosis for a professional sports franchise; this is an organization slowly spiraling into irrelevance.
I realize that’s provocative. The Minnesota Twins won’t be contracted this offseason, so it is still relevant which middling reliever they will sign, and whether they can swing a trade for a middle-of-the-order bat. But truthfully, to allow topics like this to be the primary focus this winter feels willfully ignorant.
Let’s state the obvious: the Pohlad family has to sell this franchise. They have been bad stewards of an atrophied franchise. Before an inexplicable promotion to President of Baseball and Business Operations in March 2025, Derek Falvey had missed the playoffs just as often as he had steered the Twins to the postseason. Not to mention, the Twins never got further than the Division Series under Falvey’s tenure. The Pohlad family decided this performance was worthy of a promotion. When Falvey left less than a year later, rather than exhibit any curiosity or engage in any internal reflection, casting out for a leader that could raise this organization to new heights––someone with a track record of taking a broken organization and turning around a culture––the new face of the Pohlad ownership group, Tom Pohlad, decided that Jeremy Zoll, Falvey’s right-hand, would be sufficient to helm the front office. A similar pattern unfolded in October 2025, when the Twins replaced Rocco Baldelli with Derek Shelton, Baldelli’s bench coach in 2019, who had just been fired by the Pirates after going 306-440 in Pittsburgh. All of this is evidence that the Pohlad family does not care about striving for a winning culture or transforming this organization, and Twins Territory has followed the family’s lead: they have stopped caring too.
In the movie Moneyball, Jonah Hill’s character, the fictional Peter Brand, tells Billy Beane: “There is an epidemic failure within the game to understand what is really happening.” I fear the same has happened with Twins observers and media. To treat each losing season and early playoff exit as if it could be fixed by underwhelming offseason moves, year after year, has missed the forest for the trees; while Twins insiders debate which platoon outfielder the Twins could target, we have missed that much of Twins Territory has stopped listening.

There will always be baseball fans, and baseball fans live across Twins Territory. So there will always be some interest in the hometown nine, but let’s face it: that interest is shrinking. To treat this as just another offseason, then, misses the mark. This organization is in crisis, losing more fans than any other team in baseball, with attendance falling for three straight seasons. Is it interesting who the Twins could target on the free-agent market or what trades they could swing? Sure, I suppose. Though, let’s be honest, I suspect those moves will be just as uninspired as they have been since the infamous payroll slashing after 2023. But Twins media needs to confront more systemic and fundamental questions: when can we expect the Twins to be serious playoff contenders rather than flirting with a Wild Card while two AL Central rivals play in October? What has Jeremy Zoll done to earn the trust of Twins fans to lead this organization’s baseball operations? And when, oh when, will the Pohlad family sell this franchise?
Since the Minnesota Twins’ inaugural season at Target Field in 2010, no other organization has lost more fans coming through their gates each year. Twins attendance has fallen by an average of about 76,000 fans per season (excluding the pandemic-affected 2020 and 2021 seasons), from 3.22 million in 2010 to 1.74 million in 2026: nearly 1.5 million fewer fans through the gates.
This is the clearest data point, but it reflects broader apathy across Twins Territory and a growing rot within the organization. And it isn’t a league-wide problem: MLB drew about 72 million fans in 2026, only slightly below the 73 million it drew in 2010. Nor is it simply about wins and losses; even the 101-win “Bomba Squad” of 2019 drew just 2.3 million. The remaining fans who still follow the club are angry and disappointed with the lack of success in October (just two playoff series wins since 1991) and more losing than winning seasons since their last championship run (19 losing seasons to 16 winning ones), but much of Twins Territory has simply stopped caring, a potentially terminal diagnosis for a professional sports franchise; this is an organization slowly spiraling into irrelevance.
I realize that’s provocative. The Minnesota Twins won’t be contracted this offseason, so it is still relevant which middling reliever they will sign, and whether they can swing a trade for a middle-of-the-order bat. But truthfully, to allow topics like this to be the primary focus this winter feels willfully ignorant.
Let’s state the obvious: the Pohlad family has to sell this franchise. They have been bad stewards of an atrophied franchise. Before an inexplicable promotion to President of Baseball and Business Operations in March 2025, Derek Falvey had missed the playoffs just as often as he had steered the Twins to the postseason. Not to mention, the Twins never got further than the Division Series under Falvey’s tenure. The Pohlad family decided this performance was worthy of a promotion. When Falvey left less than a year later, rather than exhibit any curiosity or engage in any internal reflection, casting out for a leader that could raise this organization to new heights––someone with a track record of taking a broken organization and turning around a culture––the new face of the Pohlad ownership group, Tom Pohlad, decided that Jeremy Zoll, Falvey’s right-hand, would be sufficient to helm the front office. A similar pattern unfolded in October 2025, when the Twins replaced Rocco Baldelli with Derek Shelton, Baldelli’s bench coach in 2019, who had just been fired by the Pirates after going 306-440 in Pittsburgh. All of this is evidence that the Pohlad family does not care about striving for a winning culture or transforming this organization, and Twins Territory has followed the family’s lead: they have stopped caring too.
In the movie Moneyball, Jonah Hill’s character, the fictional Peter Brand, tells Billy Beane: “There is an epidemic failure within the game to understand what is really happening.” I fear the same has happened with Twins observers and media. To treat each losing season and early playoff exit as if it could be fixed by underwhelming offseason moves, year after year, has missed the forest for the trees; while Twins insiders debate which platoon outfielder the Twins could target, we have missed that much of Twins Territory has stopped listening.

There are few plays in baseball that rival an acrobatic catch from Byron Buxton. Since he debuted with the Twins in 2015, Byron Buxton’s athleticism and prowess in center field have never ceased to impress. Of course, we’re all aware of the downside such fearless play brought too. The violent crashes into the wall and diving plays that have left him hobbled are etched into our memories. The Minnesota Twins organization remembers those downsides as well, and they’ve opted to use Buxton exclusively as a designated hitter so far in the 2023 campaign. While I miss watching Buxton patrol the Target Field grass, it’s hard to argue with the results. 
As of today, Byron Buxton has 87 plate appearances. Last season, Byron didn’t reach a similar amount until the end of May. In 2021, he wouldn’t reach 90 plate appearances until May 5. Sacrificing Buxton’s time in center field for his regular presence in the Twins’ lineup is a tradeoff the club seems comfortable with. It’s hard to argue with their decision, at least so far. Michael A. Taylor has been a revelation, and Royce Lewis and/or Austin Martin may find time in center field as they make their way to the big league club. With that in mind, should we accept that the former Gold Glove winner may never return to center field? Could it be time to evaluate Byron Buxton not as a center fielder but something else entirely? Clues can be found in the 2022 season and comparisons to the league’s best designated hitters. 
Last year, Byron Buxton appeared in 92 games for the Minnesota Twins. Of those appearances, 52 came as the starting center fielder. His remaining 40 appearances came as either a DH or as a pinch hitter. His usage so far in 2023 suggests that ratio could become lopsided in the other direction. And frankly, it is the most pragmatic decision. 
When compared to the best designated hitters across MLB, the evidence is clear: Byron Buxton’s game-changing ability as a hitter is worth the sacrifice. Over the last two seasons, Byron Buxton posted an average of 18.65 Park Adjusted Runs Above Average and is earning an average annual value of $14.3 million. Byron’s slow(ish) start to 2023 notwithstanding, that parallels with similar players. Over that same two-year period (2021 and 2022), Giancarlo Stanton posted 16.75 Park Adjusted Runs Above Average and is earning $25 million annually; Michael Brantley owns 10.75 Park Adjusted Runs Above Average for $12.0 million a year; and J.D. Martinez has 16.95 Park Adjusted Runs Above Average with a $10 million one-year contract. 
In the often praised Ted Lasso, the character of Leslie Higgins posits: “I try to love [him] for who he is and forgive him for who he isn't.” Buxton, of course, doesn’t need forgiveness for not playing center field regularly – he’s sacrificed his body plenty – but it’s time to love Buxton for what he is: a designated hitter, corner outfielder, or maybe at first base. 
 
 

There are few plays in baseball that rival an acrobatic catch from Byron Buxton. Since he debuted with the Twins in 2015, Byron Buxton’s athleticism and prowess in center field have never ceased to impress. Of course, we’re all aware of the downside such fearless play brought too. The violent crashes into the wall and diving plays that have left him hobbled are etched into our memories. The Minnesota Twins organization remembers those downsides as well, and they’ve opted to use Buxton exclusively as a designated hitter so far in the 2023 campaign. While I miss watching Buxton patrol the Target Field grass, it’s hard to argue with the results. 
As of today, Byron Buxton has 87 plate appearances. Last season, Byron didn’t reach a similar amount until the end of May. In 2021, he wouldn’t reach 90 plate appearances until May 5. Sacrificing Buxton’s time in center field for his regular presence in the Twins’ lineup is a tradeoff the club seems comfortable with. It’s hard to argue with their decision, at least so far. Michael A. Taylor has been a revelation, and Royce Lewis and/or Austin Martin may find time in center field as they make their way to the big league club. With that in mind, should we accept that the former Gold Glove winner may never return to center field? Could it be time to evaluate Byron Buxton not as a center fielder but something else entirely? Clues can be found in the 2022 season and comparisons to the league’s best designated hitters. 
Last year, Byron Buxton appeared in 92 games for the Minnesota Twins. Of those appearances, 52 came as the starting center fielder. His remaining 40 appearances came as either a DH or as a pinch hitter. His usage so far in 2023 suggests that ratio could become lopsided in the other direction. And frankly, it is the most pragmatic decision. 
When compared to the best designated hitters across MLB, the evidence is clear: Byron Buxton’s game-changing ability as a hitter is worth the sacrifice. Over the last two seasons, Byron Buxton posted an average of 18.65 Park Adjusted Runs Above Average and is earning an average annual value of $14.3 million. Byron’s slow(ish) start to 2023 notwithstanding, that parallels with similar players. Over that same two-year period (2021 and 2022), Giancarlo Stanton posted 16.75 Park Adjusted Runs Above Average and is earning $25 million annually; Michael Brantley owns 10.75 Park Adjusted Runs Above Average for $12.0 million a year; and J.D. Martinez has 16.95 Park Adjusted Runs Above Average with a $10 million one-year contract. 
In the often praised Ted Lasso, the character of Leslie Higgins posits: “I try to love [him] for who he is and forgive him for who he isn't.” Buxton, of course, doesn’t need forgiveness for not playing center field regularly – he’s sacrificed his body plenty – but it’s time to love Buxton for what he is: a designated hitter, corner outfielder, or maybe at first base. 
 
 

There are few plays in baseball that rival an acrobatic catch from Byron Buxton. Since he debuted with the Twins in 2015, Byron Buxton’s athleticism and prowess in center field have never ceased to impress. Of course, we’re all aware of the downside such fearless play brought too. The violent crashes into the wall and diving plays that have left him hobbled are etched into our memories. The Minnesota Twins organization remembers those downsides as well, and they’ve opted to use Buxton exclusively as a designated hitter so far in the 2023 campaign. While I miss watching Buxton patrol the Target Field grass, it’s hard to argue with the results. 
As of today, Byron Buxton has 87 plate appearances. Last season, Byron didn’t reach a similar amount until the end of May. In 2021, he wouldn’t reach 90 plate appearances until May 5. Sacrificing Buxton’s time in center field for his regular presence in the Twins’ lineup is a tradeoff the club seems comfortable with. It’s hard to argue with their decision, at least so far. Michael A. Taylor has been a revelation, and Royce Lewis and/or Austin Martin may find time in center field as they make their way to the big league club. With that in mind, should we accept that the former Gold Glove winner may never return to center field? Could it be time to evaluate Byron Buxton not as a center fielder but something else entirely? Clues can be found in the 2022 season and comparisons to the league’s best designated hitters. 
Last year, Byron Buxton appeared in 92 games for the Minnesota Twins. Of those appearances, 52 came as the starting center fielder. His remaining 40 appearances came as either a DH or as a pinch hitter. His usage so far in 2023 suggests that ratio could become lopsided in the other direction. And frankly, it is the most pragmatic decision. 
When compared to the best designated hitters across MLB, the evidence is clear: Byron Buxton’s game-changing ability as a hitter is worth the sacrifice. Over the last two seasons, Byron Buxton posted an average of 18.65 Park Adjusted Runs Above Average and is earning an average annual value of $14.3 million. Byron’s slow(ish) start to 2023 notwithstanding, that parallels with similar players. Over that same two-year period (2021 and 2022), Giancarlo Stanton posted 16.75 Park Adjusted Runs Above Average and is earning $25 million annually; Michael Brantley owns 10.75 Park Adjusted Runs Above Average for $12.0 million a year; and J.D. Martinez has 16.95 Park Adjusted Runs Above Average with a $10 million one-year contract. 
In the often praised Ted Lasso, the character of Leslie Higgins posits: “I try to love [him] for who he is and forgive him for who he isn't.” Buxton, of course, doesn’t need forgiveness for not playing center field regularly – he’s sacrificed his body plenty – but it’s time to love Buxton for what he is: a designated hitter, corner outfielder, or maybe at first base. 
 
 

With snow falling precipitously, and the hangover of the holiday season settling in, it’s impossible not to wishfully envision the return of Major League Baseball this spring. But it will be 52 days until the Minnesota Twins take the field against the Tampa Bay Rays for their first spring training match-up of the year. In the meantime, I’m left to reflect on a disappointing season for our ballclub and pose to myself the annual question: “why can’t I quit the Minnesota Twins?” Typically, this question is rhetorical. Yet, with the few offseason moves having already either been celebrated or panned, I thought I’d spend time in the doldrums of winter answering this question.  
In 2005, the Minnesota Twins and third-year skipper, Ron Gardenhire, entered the season off a first-place finish in the AL Central the year before. While the club would finish above .500, they wouldn’t repeat as AL Central champions, falling to third in the division. This disappointing finish mattered less to me than a weeknight game in late August.  
On Tuesday, August 23, 2005, the Minnesota Twins entered play against the division-leading Chicago White Sox 9.5 games back. Though dim, hope remained of a playoff push, and with Johan Santana patrolling the mound, 33,572 ventured to the Metrodome to cheer on the Minnesota Twins. Just as Santana went to battle against the White Sox sluggers, my family and I undertook our own battle: a fraught relationship with time management. My family and I had tickets to this game, but with a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Wisconsin, a delayed start from our home, and Twin Cities traffic, we wouldn’t arrive until the game’s pivotal moment.  
I sulked in the car, knowing we would miss most of the game. Undeterred, however, my Mom and Dad hustled me through the billowing winds of the Metrodome’s entrance. We darted through the concourse, until the field came into view. The bottom of the eighth inning was just underway – did I mention we have a tenuous relationship with time management? – and the “thwack” of the bat snapped me out of my disappointment.  
Jacque Jones’ home run soared over the center field wall and ended Freddy Garcia’s no-hit bid. Joe Nathan would then enter in the ninth inning to clinch the Twins’ 1-0 victory. I don’t remember whether I had time to enjoy a Kramarczuk's brat that night– I suspect not – but I do know I wouldn’t trade this early Twins memory for anything (well, maybe for Zac Gallen).  
Baseball is unpredictable. A team can lose 88 games, finish in last place, and the following season, parade a World Series trophy down I-35.  Similarly, without a clock to dictate the game’s finish, a family can arrive long after the first pitch is thrown, but still witness the game’s decisive swing. All that’s promised is that in 89 days, each team will begin with the same record; the unpredictable unfolding 162 times over. That’s why I can’t quit the Minnesota Twins.

With snow falling precipitously, and the hangover of the holiday season settling in, it’s impossible not to wishfully envision the return of Major League Baseball this spring. But it will be 52 days until the Minnesota Twins take the field against the Tampa Bay Rays for their first spring training match-up of the year. In the meantime, I’m left to reflect on a disappointing season for our ballclub and pose to myself the annual question: “why can’t I quit the Minnesota Twins?” Typically, this question is rhetorical. Yet, with the few offseason moves having already either been celebrated or panned, I thought I’d spend time in the doldrums of winter answering this question.  
In 2005, the Minnesota Twins and third-year skipper, Ron Gardenhire, entered the season off a first-place finish in the AL Central the year before. While the club would finish above .500, they wouldn’t repeat as AL Central champions, falling to third in the division. This disappointing finish mattered less to me than a weeknight game in late August.  
On Tuesday, August 23, 2005, the Minnesota Twins entered play against the division-leading Chicago White Sox 9.5 games back. Though dim, hope remained of a playoff push, and with Johan Santana patrolling the mound, 33,572 ventured to the Metrodome to cheer on the Minnesota Twins. Just as Santana went to battle against the White Sox sluggers, my family and I undertook our own battle: a fraught relationship with time management. My family and I had tickets to this game, but with a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Wisconsin, a delayed start from our home, and Twin Cities traffic, we wouldn’t arrive until the game’s pivotal moment.  
I sulked in the car, knowing we would miss most of the game. Undeterred, however, my Mom and Dad hustled me through the billowing winds of the Metrodome’s entrance. We darted through the concourse, until the field came into view. The bottom of the eighth inning was just underway – did I mention we have a tenuous relationship with time management? – and the “thwack” of the bat snapped me out of my disappointment.  
Jacque Jones’ home run soared over the center field wall and ended Freddy Garcia’s no-hit bid. Joe Nathan would then enter in the ninth inning to clinch the Twins’ 1-0 victory. I don’t remember whether I had time to enjoy a Kramarczuk's brat that night– I suspect not – but I do know I wouldn’t trade this early Twins memory for anything (well, maybe for Zac Gallen).  
Baseball is unpredictable. A team can lose 88 games, finish in last place, and the following season, parade a World Series trophy down I-35.  Similarly, without a clock to dictate the game’s finish, a family can arrive long after the first pitch is thrown, but still witness the game’s decisive swing. All that’s promised is that in 89 days, each team will begin with the same record; the unpredictable unfolding 162 times over. That’s why I can’t quit the Minnesota Twins.

With snow falling precipitously, and the hangover of the holiday season settling in, it’s impossible not to wishfully envision the return of Major League Baseball this spring. But it will be 52 days until the Minnesota Twins take the field against the Tampa Bay Rays for their first spring training match-up of the year. In the meantime, I’m left to reflect on a disappointing season for our ballclub and pose to myself the annual question: “why can’t I quit the Minnesota Twins?” Typically, this question is rhetorical. Yet, with the few offseason moves having already either been celebrated or panned, I thought I’d spend time in the doldrums of winter answering this question.  
In 2005, the Minnesota Twins and third-year skipper, Ron Gardenhire, entered the season off a first-place finish in the AL Central the year before. While the club would finish above .500, they wouldn’t repeat as AL Central champions, falling to third in the division. This disappointing finish mattered less to me than a weeknight game in late August.  
On Tuesday, August 23, 2005, the Minnesota Twins entered play against the division-leading Chicago White Sox 9.5 games back. Though dim, hope remained of a playoff push, and with Johan Santana patrolling the mound, 33,572 ventured to the Metrodome to cheer on the Minnesota Twins. Just as Santana went to battle against the White Sox sluggers, my family and I undertook our own battle: a fraught relationship with time management. My family and I had tickets to this game, but with a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Wisconsin, a delayed start from our home, and Twin Cities traffic, we wouldn’t arrive until the game’s pivotal moment.  
I sulked in the car, knowing we would miss most of the game. Undeterred, however, my Mom and Dad hustled me through the billowing winds of the Metrodome’s entrance. We darted through the concourse, until the field came into view. The bottom of the eighth inning was just underway – did I mention we have a tenuous relationship with time management? – and the “thwack” of the bat snapped me out of my disappointment.  
Jacque Jones’ home run soared over the center field wall and ended Freddy Garcia’s no-hit bid. Joe Nathan would then enter in the ninth inning to clinch the Twins’ 1-0 victory. I don’t remember whether I had time to enjoy a Kramarczuk's brat that night– I suspect not – but I do know I wouldn’t trade this early Twins memory for anything (well, maybe for Zac Gallen).  
Baseball is unpredictable. A team can lose 88 games, finish in last place, and the following season, parade a World Series trophy down I-35.  Similarly, without a clock to dictate the game’s finish, a family can arrive long after the first pitch is thrown, but still witness the game’s decisive swing. All that’s promised is that in 89 days, each team will begin with the same record; the unpredictable unfolding 162 times over. That’s why I can’t quit the Minnesota Twins.