Axel Kohagen

As a 35 year old man, you don't sit down next to Twins Mascot TC Bear without some trepidation. You're clearly in kid territory when you're posing with him. In fact, you're clogging up the photo line in front of several kids. [ATTACH=CONFIG]3344[/ATTACH] You're not sure their parents understand. A space opens for you beside the bear and you sit down. You look to the bear. He slowly nods his giant, fuzzy head. Do you say anything? It's not like he can say anything back. You briefly remember there is a human being inside the suit. You wish you hadn't. Your friend takes the pictures. You hope the guy in the bear suit forgets your old ass as soon as the next person sits down next to him. The pictures are taken and you stand to leave. You need closure. You offer TC Bear a fist bump. It is important he handle this properly. He does. He raises a paw and, with a cool, cultivated tilt of his head proceeds to fist bump you in an appropriate manner. You look into his eyes. They're fake, but the emotion is real. TC Bear gets it. You may be a person and he may be a bear. Or a person in a bear suit. But at the end of the day, a fan's a fan. And every fan ought to take a picture with the team mascot.

World Series, baby! Twins have lost two games of spring training, but they're actually playing and I heard them on the radio. Plus, Willingham knocked one out of the park. My head still knows they're going to suck, but my hearts already preparing to race as the Twins vie for the AL Central. I'm way too excited about guys with giant numbers on their jerseys. This year's Twins squad going to be like a group of high school seniors all the teachers have already written off. The school analogy works. I wonder which new Twins are known by the veterans as the loud one, the funny one, the dumb one, or the stinky one? I know this sounds weird, but I hope there's at least one metalhead on the Twins. Doumit's my bet for that, but I'm not sure. Baseball teams need a metalhead. Like any new year of school, the Twins haven't established the personality of their team this year. Some of those new kids are going to change things, maybe sooner rather than later. Keep it rockin' in '13, Twins.

World Series, baby! Twins have lost two games of spring training, but they're actually playing and I heard them on the radio. Plus, Willingham knocked one out of the park. My head still knows they're going to suck, but my hearts already preparing to race as the Twins vie for the AL Central. I'm way too excited about guys with giant numbers on their jerseys. This year's Twins squad going to be like a group of high school seniors all the teachers have already written off. The school analogy works. I wonder which new Twins are known by the veterans as the loud one, the funny one, the dumb one, or the stinky one? I know this sounds weird, but I hope there's at least one metalhead on the Twins. Doumit's my bet for that, but I'm not sure. Baseball teams need a metalhead. Like any new year of school, the Twins haven't established the personality of their team this year. Some of those new kids are going to change things, maybe sooner rather than later. Keep it rockin' in '13, Twins.

Awesome. I spend the whole entry talking about Chris Parmelee AND misspelling his name. They don't tolerate that well in the cut-throat, manly land of Parmelee, I'll bet.

Okay.

Awesome. I spend the whole entry talking about Chris Parmelee AND misspelling his name. They don't tolerate that well in the cut-throat, manly land of Parmelee, I'll bet.

If my Twins blog gets any bleaker, it'll have to wear black eyeliner. Not too worried. First Spring Training home run by a Minnesota Twin will have me predicted a World Series victory in six games. I'm like that. Roger Clemens is threatening to become an obsession for me. He could go into the Ty Cobb Hall of Fame for players so completely unlikeable they've become loveable. I'd drive him there myself, as long as I didn't have to rub Icy-Hot on his groin area. Saints preserve us, I'm starting to get interested in this outfield situation. Got a good feeling about Hicks, and I think Parmalee's going to end up being a useful Twin this year. Of course, that may just be because I think his last name sounds like some sort of mystical land where the ballplayers have battle scars and talk in gravelly, British accents. Yes, the magical land of Parmalee . . . May we see its shores this year. Ryan Doumit could be from Parmalee. My number one Twins goal this year is to have him autograph a picture of Glen Danzig, in honor of his using "Mother" as walk-up music. I'd like to think we'd head bang and fist bump after he signed it, if only for a moment or two. New Twins beat reporter Phil Miller is all Parmalee - check the facial hair in that headshot, people. His writing earns that scruff. I've really enjoyed what I've read so far. That's all for now. Time to practice my gravelly British accent and head banging skills.

If my Twins blog gets any bleaker, it'll have to wear black eyeliner. Not too worried. First Spring Training home run by a Minnesota Twin will have me predicted a World Series victory in six games. I'm like that. Roger Clemens is threatening to become an obsession for me. He could go into the Ty Cobb Hall of Fame for players so completely unlikeable they've become loveable. I'd drive him there myself, as long as I didn't have to rub Icy-Hot on his groin area. Saints preserve us, I'm starting to get interested in this outfield situation. Got a good feeling about Hicks, and I think Parmalee's going to end up being a useful Twin this year. Of course, that may just be because I think his last name sounds like some sort of mystical land where the ballplayers have battle scars and talk in gravelly, British accents. Yes, the magical land of Parmalee . . . May we see its shores this year. Ryan Doumit could be from Parmalee. My number one Twins goal this year is to have him autograph a picture of Glen Danzig, in honor of his using "Mother" as walk-up music. I'd like to think we'd head bang and fist bump after he signed it, if only for a moment or two. New Twins beat reporter Phil Miller is all Parmalee - check the facial hair in that headshot, people. His writing earns that scruff. I've really enjoyed what I've read so far. That's all for now. Time to practice my gravelly British accent and head banging skills.

And if you want to read my review of Pelotero as a horror film (because how scary would it be to have your entire life questioned?), check out the link below --- http://www.slasherstudios.com/2013/02/13/not-quite-horror-pelotero-2011/

The Twins are down in Florida, getting ready to play baseball. I AM excited, of course. It just feels like all us Twins' fans got a Christmas tree out, and we're trying to pretend the packages that look and feel like bags of tube socks aren't really tube socks. It's gonna be a tube socks year, folks. Need to make it a goal to at least TRY to remember the names of the starting pitchers. Think I might try cue cards. Two crappy seasons behind us. Someone has to be mad in that clubhouse. We're free from Danny Valencia now, can't they trade in the swagger for chips on their shoulders? I'm talking scrappy, and not the cute, non-threatening Nick Punto kind. I'm talking Mike Redmond legging out a triple with what was left his aging body and acting like he totally saw it coming the whole way. Just, you know, scrap that can occasionally hit the ball. And like that my good mood is gone. How tough can a team be when your star player always walks up to a song that sounds like the level end of an unpopular Nintendo game and the stadium PA celebrates each victory by blaring an arena rock anthem that's as exhilarating as a paint-by-numbers of the "one" side of a die? I don't want to be a hater, but everything coming up tube socks and bad rock in my mind.

The Twins are down in Florida, getting ready to play baseball. I AM excited, of course. It just feels like all us Twins' fans got a Christmas tree out, and we're trying to pretend the packages that look and feel like bags of tube socks aren't really tube socks. It's gonna be a tube socks year, folks. Need to make it a goal to at least TRY to remember the names of the starting pitchers. Think I might try cue cards. Two crappy seasons behind us. Someone has to be mad in that clubhouse. We're free from Danny Valencia now, can't they trade in the swagger for chips on their shoulders? I'm talking scrappy, and not the cute, non-threatening Nick Punto kind. I'm talking Mike Redmond legging out a triple with what was left his aging body and acting like he totally saw it coming the whole way. Just, you know, scrap that can occasionally hit the ball. And like that my good mood is gone. How tough can a team be when your star player always walks up to a song that sounds like the level end of an unpopular Nintendo game and the stadium PA celebrates each victory by blaring an arena rock anthem that's as exhilarating as a paint-by-numbers of the "one" side of a die? I don't want to be a hater, but everything coming up tube socks and bad rock in my mind.

UPDATE: Don't Go To The Reunion was funded and will be shooting this year!

This is off-topic, but if you grew up around the same time period as me, you know what happened after the summer Little League games. You went to a sleepover and you watched a scary movie. Probably one where a guy with a mask and a sharp object chased teenagers around the woods. Like the song says, they just don't make 'em like that anymore. UNLESS . . . Slasher Studios is looking for a few more donations to fund their movie Don't Go To The Reunion, and they could use a few bucks from anyone with a soft spot for sleepless nights at slumber parties. They have already produced three short films, including the award-winning Teddy. You can listen to their podcast on iTunes and read articles about horror movies on their website http://www.slasherstudios.com (where I write reviews). Wanna support people from Wisconsin doing something good? Head to Kickstarter and donate a few bucks. But hurry - you only have two days to help make this happen!

This is off-topic, but if you grew up around the same time period as me, you know what happened after the summer Little League games. You went to a sleepover and you watched a scary movie. Probably one where a guy with a mask and a sharp object chased teenagers around the woods. Like the song says, they just don't make 'em like that anymore. UNLESS . . . Slasher Studios is looking for a few more donations to fund their movie Don't Go To The Reunion, and they could use a few bucks from anyone with a soft spot for sleepless nights at slumber parties. They have already produced three short films, including the award-winning Teddy. You can listen to their podcast on iTunes and read articles about horror movies on their website http://www.slasherstudios.com (where I write reviews). Wanna support people from Wisconsin doing something good? Head to Kickstarter and donate a few bucks. But hurry - you only have two days to help make this happen!

Thought about the title of this blog. How would I feel if someone sends it back to me after a victorious Twins season? Then, I decided I'd feel pretty damn good about a winning season and probably wouldn't care someone reminded me I started out bitter. Twins fans across the Internet are writing like the team was dying and they're planning the services in its hospital room. Opening Day will be the funeral service, and Spring Training the visitation. Too morbid? What's the proper way to prepare for a team that's just not going to cut it? Do I wave my homer hanky or just cry into it? Do I have to pretend like I've got high hopes? Wait. Maybe I gotta be honest with myself. I do have high hopes, even though my brain keeps reminding me I should know better. As soon as the Twins win one game I'll be convinced they're going to the World Series. They won't, and I won't tell a single person I'm thinking it, but I'll be picking my spot on the parade route. Somebody taught me once that cynics were just idealists that got hurt. Anybody else notice how long baseball games last when your team has no chance to seal the deal? Could go with the "it's always nice to get out to the ballpark," but that's kind of a crock, huh? If the away team gets a five run lead before the end of the third, your seat gets uncomfortable and the cutesy scoreboard videos are insufferable. I have so much hope for 2014, but have you flipped through a calendar to see how far away that is? When the season starts, whatever is left in the Twins dugout will come staggering out when the PA system promises they'll knock the cover off the ball. I look at my Minnie and Paul and I just have one favor to ask of them. However the season goes, let me see someone start a fire that will get me through the winter between this season and the next. Someone has to ignite this deadness.

Thought about the title of this blog. How would I feel if someone sends it back to me after a victorious Twins season? Then, I decided I'd feel pretty damn good about a winning season and probably wouldn't care someone reminded me I started out bitter. Twins fans across the Internet are writing like the team was dying and they're planning the services in its hospital room. Opening Day will be the funeral service, and Spring Training the visitation. Too morbid? What's the proper way to prepare for a team that's just not going to cut it? Do I wave my homer hanky or just cry into it? Do I have to pretend like I've got high hopes? Wait. Maybe I gotta be honest with myself. I do have high hopes, even though my brain keeps reminding me I should know better. As soon as the Twins win one game I'll be convinced they're going to the World Series. They won't, and I won't tell a single person I'm thinking it, but I'll be picking my spot on the parade route. Somebody taught me once that cynics were just idealists that got hurt. Anybody else notice how long baseball games last when your team has no chance to seal the deal? Could go with the "it's always nice to get out to the ballpark," but that's kind of a crock, huh? If the away team gets a five run lead before the end of the third, your seat gets uncomfortable and the cutesy scoreboard videos are insufferable. I have so much hope for 2014, but have you flipped through a calendar to see how far away that is? When the season starts, whatever is left in the Twins dugout will come staggering out when the PA system promises they'll knock the cover off the ball. I look at my Minnie and Paul and I just have one favor to ask of them. However the season goes, let me see someone start a fire that will get me through the winter between this season and the next. Someone has to ignite this deadness.

I drive by Target Field nearly every day. In the off-season, it looks like a brand new piece of playground equipment. The next time I go past it, it'll look broken-in. Target Field's not Yankee stadium, but it deserves history. And what's history without a few ghosts? Revere was a player with a future. Moving him is smart. Giving up winter dreams about his potential will still hurt. I was as ready as I could be to lose Span. Losing Revere came as a surprise. I'm an jag-off for not getting Revere to sign my picture of his leaping catch this year. Others are gone, and more will probably be traded. I don't own a shirsey with the name of a current Twins player on the back of it. The Twinsfest tables holding discounted shirts with departed names on their backs will be overflowing this January. Things are brewing in the farm systems. A new team dynamic will rise from the ashes of two cruddy seasons and a lack of hope for the future. At least we're not the Royals, trapped in a beautiful stadium with a team that can't get out of first gear. Maybe if they keep sucking, we can trade for that center field fountain to fill the spot where the trees used to be.

I drive by Target Field nearly every day. In the off-season, it looks like a brand new piece of playground equipment. The next time I go past it, it'll look broken-in. Target Field's not Yankee stadium, but it deserves history. And what's history without a few ghosts? Revere was a player with a future. Moving him is smart. Giving up winter dreams about his potential will still hurt. I was as ready as I could be to lose Span. Losing Revere came as a surprise. I'm an jag-off for not getting Revere to sign my picture of his leaping catch this year. Others are gone, and more will probably be traded. I don't own a shirsey with the name of a current Twins player on the back of it. The Twinsfest tables holding discounted shirts with departed names on their backs will be overflowing this January. Things are brewing in the farm systems. A new team dynamic will rise from the ashes of two cruddy seasons and a lack of hope for the future. At least we're not the Royals, trapped in a beautiful stadium with a team that can't get out of first gear. Maybe if they keep sucking, we can trade for that center field fountain to fill the spot where the trees used to be.

You can view the page at http://twinsdaily.com/content.php?970-Snappers-Visiting-the-Rapids-Notes-on-a-Mr-Horrorpants-Road-Trip

Finally, I made the trip. Cedar Rapids is only an hour away from where my parents live, and I finally got out on the open road to watch the Beloit Snappers play the Cedar Rapids Kernels. The following notes and pictures will not provide any interesting baseball knowledge, but they might inspire others in the Twin Cities to make the trip to Cedar Rapids to see the visiting Snappers play. All pictures are my own, which is more of a confession of guilt than an attempt at bragging. [ATTACH=CONFIG]2146[/ATTACH] 1) If you're driving on 35, it's worth sidetracking to see the Surf Ballroom, where Buddy Holly and company played their last show, as well as the cornfield where the plane crashed. The ballroom is well-preserved. The crash site is a less polished and takes a half mile of walking to reach. Seeing both is mandatory experience for true rock and rollers. More info here. At the crash site, people leave items as a memorial. One of these items made me wonder it the Minnesota Twins really are cursed. [ATTACH=CONFIG]2147[/ATTACH] 2) Veterans Memorial Stadium is a pretty nice place to visit. Ticket prices are more than fair, and autographs aren't too hard to come by (if you are so inclined). 3) The Kernels mascot is a corn-based Frankenstein named Mr. Shucks. I think this name is so funny I have already alienated two family members giggling about him. I bought a hat solely so I could say "Mr. Shucks" more often. [ATTACH=CONFIG]2148[/ATTACH] 4) Seeing Miguel Sano, and getting his autograph, felt like meeting Elvis right before he got on Ed Sullivan. [ATTACH=CONFIG]2151[/ATTACH] 5) Sano's signature confuses me, but some quick Googling shows this seems to be pretty normal. I actually watched him sign it, so that helps confirm it for me. [ATTACH=CONFIG]2150[/ATTACH] 6) If you're hungry and have time on your trip north, out of Cedar Rapids, get a tenderloin at Joensy's in Center Point. The sandwiches are delicious, reasonably priced, and majestic in size. If you're going to be in Iowa, and you don't eat a tenderloin, your life will be poorer. My brother-in-law recommended it, so I am currently in his debt. 7) The whole trip would have been less enjoyable without meeting up with @jimcrikket, who made me feel like a visiting dignitary with his kindness. Thanks, Jim! Also, thanks again to Seth Stohs for his prospect handbook. I consulted it before and after my trip -- can't wait to buy my 2013 copy! 8) Finally, here is an encore presentation of my best "Mr. Shucks" related Tweets. Follow @mrhorrorpants on Twitter for more things that are almost, but not quite, funny. -- "He is a husky guy with big ears, and the chicks can't leaf him alone!" -- "You know, #MrShucks of the Cedar Rapids #Kernels would be the ideal mascot to STALK!" -- #MrShucks needs a mascot partner named #MrJives -- The #Kernels should have a Hip-Hop Night culminating in a rousing performance by their mascot, Mr. Shucks D. -- Every #Kernels game should have their mascot pulling a fan on the dugout roof and singing "Shuck E.'s In Love" to them. (Thanks to @mntwinkie and @gaultcommasarah for joining in on the Mr. Shucks madness).

THE DAY-TO-DAY ZONE FEAR IN A HANDFUL OF ROSIN PART 3 A MR. HORRORPANTS SCREENPLAY BASED ON AN IDEA BY MICHAEL HAAS (@digitalHaas) INT. BLACK AND WHITE. A MOD 50s LIVING ROOM. THERE ARE SEVERAL COUCHES MADE UP OF LIGHT GRAY RECTANGLES. A COFFEE TABLE SITS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM, COVERED IN MAGAZINES. DENARD SPAN ENTERS THE ROOM, LOOKING CONFUSED AND FRUSTRATED. HE SITS ON ONE OF THE COUCHES. HE SHAKES HIS HEAD AND STARES AT A DOOR IN FRONT OF HIM. THE DOOR IN FRONT OF HIM IS LABELED "TARGET FIELD - PLAYER'S ENTRANCE." THE CAMERA PULLS BACK TO REVEAL MR. HORRORPANTS. HE IS WEARING A SUIT AND TIE, AND HIS HAIR IS PARTED TO THE SIDE. MR. HORRORPANTS Another Twin. Another injury. Another ballplayer waits for his chance to play again. When will that chance come? DENARD SPAN (shrugs) MR. HORRORPANTS Some things aren't very clear, in the Day-to-Day Zone. THE DAY-TO-DAY ZONE THEME PLAYS. DENARD SPAN, NOW ALONE AGAIN, GOES TO LISTEN TO THE DOOR MARKED "PLAYER'S ENTRANCE." HE HEARS THE SOUNDS OF BASEBALL BEING PLAYED. DENARD SPAN Plouffe, is that you? Plouffey? How'd you get out of here? THERE IS NO ANSWER. DENARD SPAN SITS DOWN. HE FANS THROUGH THE MAGAZINE ON THE COFFEE TABLE AND NOTICES SOMETHING HAS BEEN SCRATCHED INTO THE SURFACE OF THE TABLE. SPAN PUSHES THE OTHER MAGAZINES AWAY AND SEES THE PHRASE "THOME WAS HERE!" DENARD SPAN Okay. Relax, Denard. Nobody else has gone through that door, so they need you. This can't be the DL or someone else would've come through that door, right? DENARD SPAN SLUMPS BACK INTO THE COUCH. AS HE DOES SO, HE NOTICES A FINGERTIP POKING OUT FROM UNDER THE A CUSHION. DENARD STANDS UP AND RIPS THE COUCH CUSHIONS OFF THE COUCH. HE STAGGERS AND FALLS TO THE GROUND, NARROWLY MISSING THE COFFEE TABLE. HE IS COVERING HIS MOUTH IN SHOCK. UNDER THE CUSHIONS, STILL WRITHING IN PAIN, IS THE DETACHED ARM AND SHOULDER OF MATT CAPPS. DENARD SPAN It fell off! He was here until it completely fell off! MR. HORRORPANTS WALKS IN FRONT OF THE CAMERA. Mr. Horrorpants Not a very pretty ending. But, is it an ending? Will it ever end? You can never be sure . . . in the Day-to-Day Zone. CUE CREDITS, FADE TO BLACK. (Follow @mrhorrorpants on Twitter. He gets even weirder.)

THE DAY-TO-DAY ZONE FEAR IN A HANDFUL OF ROSIN PART 3 A MR. HORRORPANTS SCREENPLAY BASED ON AN IDEA BY MICHAEL HAAS (@digitalHaas) INT. BLACK AND WHITE. A MOD 50s LIVING ROOM. THERE ARE SEVERAL COUCHES MADE UP OF LIGHT GRAY RECTANGLES. A COFFEE TABLE SITS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM, COVERED IN MAGAZINES. DENARD SPAN ENTERS THE ROOM, LOOKING CONFUSED AND FRUSTRATED. HE SITS ON ONE OF THE COUCHES. HE SHAKES HIS HEAD AND STARES AT A DOOR IN FRONT OF HIM. THE DOOR IN FRONT OF HIM IS LABELED "TARGET FIELD - PLAYER'S ENTRANCE." THE CAMERA PULLS BACK TO REVEAL MR. HORRORPANTS. HE IS WEARING A SUIT AND TIE, AND HIS HAIR IS PARTED TO THE SIDE. MR. HORRORPANTS Another Twin. Another injury. Another ballplayer waits for his chance to play again. When will that chance come? DENARD SPAN (shrugs) MR. HORRORPANTS Some things aren't very clear, in the Day-to-Day Zone. THE DAY-TO-DAY ZONE THEME PLAYS. DENARD SPAN, NOW ALONE AGAIN, GOES TO LISTEN TO THE DOOR MARKED "PLAYER'S ENTRANCE." HE HEARS THE SOUNDS OF BASEBALL BEING PLAYED. DENARD SPAN Plouffe, is that you? Plouffey? How'd you get out of here? THERE IS NO ANSWER. DENARD SPAN SITS DOWN. HE FANS THROUGH THE MAGAZINE ON THE COFFEE TABLE AND NOTICES SOMETHING HAS BEEN SCRATCHED INTO THE SURFACE OF THE TABLE. SPAN PUSHES THE OTHER MAGAZINES AWAY AND SEES THE PHRASE "THOME WAS HERE!" DENARD SPAN Okay. Relax, Denard. Nobody else has gone through that door, so they need you. This can't be the DL or someone else would've come through that door, right? DENARD SPAN SLUMPS BACK INTO THE COUCH. AS HE DOES SO, HE NOTICES A FINGERTIP POKING OUT FROM UNDER THE A CUSHION. DENARD STANDS UP AND RIPS THE COUCH CUSHIONS OFF THE COUCH. HE STAGGERS AND FALLS TO THE GROUND, NARROWLY MISSING THE COFFEE TABLE. HE IS COVERING HIS MOUTH IN SHOCK. UNDER THE CUSHIONS, STILL WRITHING IN PAIN, IS THE DETACHED ARM AND SHOULDER OF MATT CAPPS. DENARD SPAN It fell off! He was here until it completely fell off! MR. HORRORPANTS WALKS IN FRONT OF THE CAMERA. Mr. Horrorpants Not a very pretty ending. But, is it an ending? Will it ever end? You can never be sure . . . in the Day-to-Day Zone. CUE CREDITS, FADE TO BLACK. (Follow @mrhorrorpants on Twitter. He gets even weirder.)