Axel Kohagen

The following are my thoughts on the blogger versus journalist "debate." They are largely unresearched and completely subjective, but I hope they offer something to the public discussion. 1) It's not really a debate. This discussion is about the journalistic appraisal of the talent of the blogging community. I don't believe the discussion lends itself toward critiquing the journalistic community. Some mainstream journalists (Jon Heyman comes to mind) get more blogger abuse than others, but usually this vitriol is directed toward an individual and not a community. 2) Nothing is really at stake. Bloggers will keep blogging regardless of criticism. Having a blog is a free way to get your opinions out to the entire world. It's unlikely public disfavor would stop people from complaining about things on the internet - especially when it's free to do so. What's it all about? This is my informal conclusion: Conclusion: We fear change. If you have bloggers writing from the outside and journalists writing form the inside, you have two separate views of reality within a particular sports world. If you're comfortable living in a world without absolute, yes-or-no answers, this is not likely to upset you. However . . . if you need heroes and villains, having multiple views on a topic means you have to identify who is right and who is wrong. If you're from the side losing power, you'll pick the other side to play the bad guy. It's what people do when they're scared. In some ways, we should all be scared of losing professional journalistic voices. I wouldn't want to live in a world without professional journalistic standards, where all of the news was written by bloggers. I'm writing this piece while my wife plays Super Mario Brothers. I'm publishing at as "Mr. Horrorpants," a name you're unlikely to see attributed to an article in the New York Times. When I publish it, I will hit a button. I will not submit it to an editor and/or copy editor for approval. No one will check my facts. Blogging IS different, after all. However, bloggers often provide an informal discussion of my favorite sports teams. Some of them provide news and content that can compete with the pros, and I respect that. I also respect fans with attitude, even if it's more gossip and goofiness than actual news. I work odd hours and I'm not always able to get together with friends or go to a bar to talk about the game. Regular journalism is not adequate in these areas. Neither bloggers nor journalists are heroes or villains. I suspect a more balanced way of looking at this problem is this: Sportwriting is becoming more informal. Increased access creates community and offers more opportunities for people to share their voices. It's also likely to create a dip in certain standards of professionalism. We can love this or hate this, but it's not likely to go anywhere.

I agree those players still have potential. I just don't think the Twins can afford to wait on them.

Nishioka's demotion to Rochester woke the Internet like a robin singing. At that moment, Spring Training truly arrived. Players without unquestionable abilities are now assets, each compared to similar players and measured for potential value for the team. When someone like Nishioka is cut early, it adds drama to the entire process. He represents a large investment of time and money, and sending him to the minors so quickly says a lot. This leaves the Twins with a bench spot to fill, and a whole lot of underwhelming players left to fill it. It seems like a good time to remember one of Bill James' 10 Commandments of Sabermetrics. "Place thy faith not in veterans, when youth be available to ye." Every season, it seems like the Twins trust in some known quantity ballplayer over taking the chance on a younger player with more potential. Some of those players live up to expectations (Orlandos Hudson and Cabrera acquitted themselves nicely). Others came and left as ghosts of their former selves (Adam Everett and Mike Lamb come to mind). Some are bench players who leave the team without doing much more than handling a glove most of the time and handling a bat more infrequently (Nick Punto representing the best case scenario here, Matt Tolbert the worst). Right now, the Twins need to re-consider the opportunity cost of trotting their veterans out for another season of the same-old, same-old. Players like Luke Hughes, Alex Burnett, Drew Butera, and Jeff Manship have been in the league long enough to evaluate. If the Twins were a stable, productive team, banking on their continued adequacy might make more sense. However, the Twins need big rewards, and that means they need to take big risks. Since it'd be ridiculous to assume every big risk would pan out (see, for example, Joel Zumaya), the Twins need to take lots of risks. This may mean risking a 100 loss season, but it might mean finding 1 or 2 players to build on for 2013. With storm clouds gathering over Justin Morneau and Scott Baker, playing it safe won't uncover new talent. No fan wants another failed season, but paying for one failed season costs less than paying for a string of less-disappointing seasons, if that string stretches on for years and years.

Nishioka's demotion to Rochester woke the Internet like a robin singing. At that moment, Spring Training truly arrived. Players without unquestionable abilities are now assets, each compared to similar players and measured for potential value for the team. When someone like Nishioka is cut early, it adds drama to the entire process. He represents a large investment of time and money, and sending him to the minors so quickly says a lot. This leaves the Twins with a bench spot to fill, and a whole lot of underwhelming players left to fill it. It seems like a good time to remember one of Bill James' 10 Commandments of Sabermetrics. "Place thy faith not in veterans, when youth be available to ye." Every season, it seems like the Twins trust in some known quantity ballplayer over taking the chance on a younger player with more potential. Some of those players live up to expectations (Orlandos Hudson and Cabrera acquitted themselves nicely). Others came and left as ghosts of their former selves (Adam Everett and Mike Lamb come to mind). Some are bench players who leave the team without doing much more than handling a glove most of the time and handling a bat more infrequently (Nick Punto representing the best case scenario here, Matt Tolbert the worst). Right now, the Twins need to re-consider the opportunity cost of trotting their veterans out for another season of the same-old, same-old. Players like Luke Hughes, Alex Burnett, Drew Butera, and Jeff Manship have been in the league long enough to evaluate. If the Twins were a stable, productive team, banking on their continued adequacy might make more sense. However, the Twins need big rewards, and that means they need to take big risks. Since it'd be ridiculous to assume every big risk would pan out (see, for example, Joel Zumaya), the Twins need to take lots of risks. This may mean risking a 100 loss season, but it might mean finding 1 or 2 players to build on for 2013. With storm clouds gathering over Justin Morneau and Scott Baker, playing it safe won't uncover new talent. No fan wants another failed season, but paying for one failed season costs less than paying for a string of less-disappointing seasons, if that string stretches on for years and years.

This morning, I sat down with my granola and Diet Mountain Dew, ready to begin my day. As my hindquarters hit the couch, and before my hand could reach the remote, I noticed a strange presence sitting in a chair in my living room. I was surprised, but somehow I recognized this intruder. "Jason Tyner?" I asked. Tyner nodded. "How did you get in my living room?" "You're imagining me here," he said. His mouth did not move. "You've been avoiding me inside your own brain, and I had to appear to you before the 2012 Twins baseball season begins." "What message do you bear, spirit?" I asked. The Tyner-hallucination slapped its forehead in disgust. "Stop being a diva," he said. "Do you remember when I hit my one home run, ever, as a major leaguer? You thought to yourself I was going to be an All-Star after that." "Maybe," I said. "Don't lie to your own imagination!" the Tyner said. "I guess I just got hopeful," I said. My granola was getting soggy. "Remember when you said Mike Lamb would solve the Twins infield problems, and then that Joe Crede would? And then that Nishioka would?" "Okay," I said. "Remember when you thought Livan Hernandez and Ramon Ortiz were going to be amazing starters for a whole season? Remember saying the 2009 Tigers wouldn't be successful because they were too good?" "Fine. I get it," I said. "What's your point?" "Your brain wants you to stop being such a homer, because if you don't you're just going to be a giant, whiny mess by July. You gotta love the game for what it is, not the best case scenario you've concocted in your head. Stop setting yourself up for disappointment." "Like when you ended your career after getting traded for . . ." "This isn't about me," the spectral-Tyner said. "I came here for a reason. There's something you need to realize before this season begins." He held up a picture, and I screamed out loud. He began to fade out of existence. "You knew it was that already. You know you did," Tyner said as he slowly disappeared. He was right, but like all of the other disappointments he had mentioned, I was trying to keep from thinking about it. In his hand, the spirit had held a picture of Scott Baker's elbow.

This morning, I sat down with my granola and Diet Mountain Dew, ready to begin my day. As my hindquarters hit the couch, and before my hand could reach the remote, I noticed a strange presence sitting in a chair in my living room. I was surprised, but somehow I recognized this intruder. "Jason Tyner?" I asked. Tyner nodded. "How did you get in my living room?" "You're imagining me here," he said. His mouth did not move. "You've been avoiding me inside your own brain, and I had to appear to you before the 2012 Twins baseball season begins." "What message do you bear, spirit?" I asked. The Tyner-hallucination slapped its forehead in disgust. "Stop being a diva," he said. "Do you remember when I hit my one home run, ever, as a major leaguer? You thought to yourself I was going to be an All-Star after that." "Maybe," I said. "Don't lie to your own imagination!" the Tyner said. "I guess I just got hopeful," I said. My granola was getting soggy. "Remember when you said Mike Lamb would solve the Twins infield problems, and then that Joe Crede would? And then that Nishioka would?" "Okay," I said. "Remember when you thought Livan Hernandez and Ramon Ortiz were going to be amazing starters for a whole season? Remember saying the 2009 Tigers wouldn't be successful because they were too good?" "Fine. I get it," I said. "What's your point?" "Your brain wants you to stop being such a homer, because if you don't you're just going to be a giant, whiny mess by July. You gotta love the game for what it is, not the best case scenario you've concocted in your head. Stop setting yourself up for disappointment." "Like when you ended your career after getting traded for . . ." "This isn't about me," the spectral-Tyner said. "I came here for a reason. There's something you need to realize before this season begins." He held up a picture, and I screamed out loud. He began to fade out of existence. "You knew it was that already. You know you did," Tyner said as he slowly disappeared. He was right, but like all of the other disappointments he had mentioned, I was trying to keep from thinking about it. In his hand, the spirit had held a picture of Scott Baker's elbow.

12 March, 2012. Ft. Myers, Florida. I trust this Letter finds you Well and in Good Health and Spirit. Tell Mother I miss her Hot Dish Casserole every Day. I fear this Baseball Season will be what We feared it would be when this Spring Training Campaign began. It is now mid-March, as you can see, and we are still faced with the same Questions of last Year's horrid and shameful Defeat. The Artillery was splendid yesterday, on 11 March 2012, but surely that one sublime Gift of Providence cannot mask our lack of long ranged Attack Options. The loss of splendid Players like Cuddy and Thome have done little to brighten our Moods. Indeed, some still moan the loss of the one they called Hardy. We expect to defend Ourselves from The Heathen Foe, but for how long? The Men who lead our Defensive Efforts have not proven able, and yet have much Experience on the Field of Battle. Baker and Liriano show Flashes of True Inspiration, then fall into D---ed Slumps and are Themselves oft wounded. Pavano maintains a hearty Character full of Grit, yet he has aged so. I do not think I like the looks of this Marquis, and the less said about the one called Blackburn the better. It is difficult to write with any Conviction or Certainty in the time of Preparation, yet one Thing remains clear - There is much to be cautious about in this 2012 Campaign. Mr. H. Pants, Esq. PS - If they are to begin singing that "Chicken Fried" Song again, I shall not be able to restrain from splashing my Vomit on the Dugout Floor.

12 March, 2012. Ft. Myers, Florida. I trust this Letter finds you Well and in Good Health and Spirit. Tell Mother I miss her Hot Dish Casserole every Day. I fear this Baseball Season will be what We feared it would be when this Spring Training Campaign began. It is now mid-March, as you can see, and we are still faced with the same Questions of last Year's horrid and shameful Defeat. The Artillery was splendid yesterday, on 11 March 2012, but surely that one sublime Gift of Providence cannot mask our lack of long ranged Attack Options. The loss of splendid Players like Cuddy and Thome have done little to brighten our Moods. Indeed, some still moan the loss of the one they called Hardy. We expect to defend Ourselves from The Heathen Foe, but for how long? The Men who lead our Defensive Efforts have not proven able, and yet have much Experience on the Field of Battle. Baker and Liriano show Flashes of True Inspiration, then fall into D---ed Slumps and are Themselves oft wounded. Pavano maintains a hearty Character full of Grit, yet he has aged so. I do not think I like the looks of this Marquis, and the less said about the one called Blackburn the better. It is difficult to write with any Conviction or Certainty in the time of Preparation, yet one Thing remains clear - There is much to be cautious about in this 2012 Campaign. Mr. H. Pants, Esq. PS - If they are to begin singing that "Chicken Fried" Song again, I shall not be able to restrain from splashing my Vomit on the Dugout Floor.

Last year, as some of you know, I wrote an online novel called The HooseCows. It's about an independent league baseball team where broken ballplayers try to find peace dealing with ballpark ghosts and bad people. It's available at http://www.cfcows.com. Currently, I'm preparing it for publication. The problem is I missed writing fiction, and I wanted to write something else. I missed having a story to tell, so there was only one thing to do . . . The new story will have under 5% baseball, and I won't be promoting it here because it wouldn't fit in. However, if you were a fan of The HooseCows, you might like this novel. It takes place in Iowa and deals with love and death for men who live for guitars, bars, and drinking by the river. Thanks for letting me have a moment of your time, folks. http://cfcows.com/2012/03/11/the-lonely-bed/

Last year, as some of you know, I wrote an online novel called The HooseCows. It's about an independent league baseball team where broken ballplayers try to find peace dealing with ballpark ghosts and bad people. It's available at http://www.cfcows.com. Currently, I'm preparing it for publication. The problem is I missed writing fiction, and I wanted to write something else. I missed having a story to tell, so there was only one thing to do . . . The new story will have under 5% baseball, and I won't be promoting it here because it wouldn't fit in. However, if you were a fan of The HooseCows, you might like this novel. It takes place in Iowa and deals with love and death for men who live for guitars, bars, and drinking by the river. Thanks for letting me have a moment of your time, folks. http://cfcows.com/2012/03/11/the-lonely-bed/

In my continuing quest to improve the ferocity of Target Field Walk-Up Music, I have had an epiphany. For around a 100 years, horror movies have hired composers to add intensity to the moment. Why not go with the professionals on this one? After all, some of the Twins players could use a jolt of intensity in the pysch-out department. Here are some horror themes that would sound mighty smart pumping out the speakers at the ballgame. Song: "Psycho: A Suite for Strings" Composer: Bernard Herrmann Chance of Actually Being Used: 1 in 100. Although well-know, it does its job a little too well. Instead of intimidating opposing players, it'd leave them wondering if the hitter kept Mother in the fruit cellar on road trips. Potential Player: Glen Perkins, taking the mound. He's enough of a smart-ass to do it, and it kind of fits his whirling dervish attitude. Song: "Theme from Jaws" Composer: John Williams Chance of Actually Being Used: 1 in 10. It probably shouldn't be used, because it's famous enough to be a cliche. Also, it'd seem really silly if the player grounded out weakly to first instead of launching one skyward. Potential Player: Ben Revere. Because it may be a little mean, but it's a lot funny. Song: "Godzilla Main Title" Composer: Akira Ifukube Chance of Actually Being Used: 1 in 4. It's got all the right moments for anticipating and cheering. Also, it's not so over-the-top that a lackluster at bat makes it seem ridiculous. Potential Player: Justin Morneau. If he rises from the sea ready to hit again, it'd be a sweet soundtrack for a second act. Especially if he's primarily a DH. Song: "The Thing" Composer: Ennio Morricone Chance of Actually Being Used: 1 in a Billion. I know, it'd make more sense to use another classic John Carpenter film score -- Halloween. That said, stay with me on this. It's a slow, brooding song about the tension of what might be waiting just below the surface, ready to strike. Which makes it perfect for . . . Potential Player: Joe Mauer. Suddenly, all of the quiet grace of the Twins catcher becomes seething potential. Picture it. It's kinda neato. Song: "Gremlins - Suite" Composer: Jerry Goldsmith Chance of Actually Being Used: 1 in a Billion. Still, it'd be a heckuva thing. This is a uptempo rag, with out of control energy and swagger. Potential Player: Alexi Casilla. Because, as with the song, you really aren't sure if he's got it under control.

In my continuing quest to improve the ferocity of Target Field Walk-Up Music, I have had an epiphany. For around a 100 years, horror movies have hired composers to add intensity to the moment. Why not go with the professionals on this one? After all, some of the Twins players could use a jolt of intensity in the pysch-out department. Here are some horror themes that would sound mighty smart pumping out the speakers at the ballgame. Song: "Psycho: A Suite for Strings" Composer: Bernard Herrmann Chance of Actually Being Used: 1 in 100. Although well-know, it does its job a little too well. Instead of intimidating opposing players, it'd leave them wondering if the hitter kept Mother in the fruit cellar on road trips. Potential Player: Glen Perkins, taking the mound. He's enough of a smart-ass to do it, and it kind of fits his whirling dervish attitude. Song: "Theme from Jaws" Composer: John Williams Chance of Actually Being Used: 1 in 10. It probably shouldn't be used, because it's famous enough to be a cliche. Also, it'd seem really silly if the player grounded out weakly to first instead of launching one skyward. Potential Player: Ben Revere. Because it may be a little mean, but it's a lot funny. Song: "Godzilla Main Title" Composer: Akira Ifukube Chance of Actually Being Used: 1 in 4. It's got all the right moments for anticipating and cheering. Also, it's not so over-the-top that a lackluster at bat makes it seem ridiculous. Potential Player: Justin Morneau. If he rises from the sea ready to hit again, it'd be a sweet soundtrack for a second act. Especially if he's primarily a DH. Song: "The Thing" Composer: Ennio Morricone Chance of Actually Being Used: 1 in a Billion. I know, it'd make more sense to use another classic John Carpenter film score -- Halloween. That said, stay with me on this. It's a slow, brooding song about the tension of what might be waiting just below the surface, ready to strike. Which makes it perfect for . . . Potential Player: Joe Mauer. Suddenly, all of the quiet grace of the Twins catcher becomes seething potential. Picture it. It's kinda neato. Song: "Gremlins - Suite" Composer: Jerry Goldsmith Chance of Actually Being Used: 1 in a Billion. Still, it'd be a heckuva thing. This is a uptempo rag, with out of control energy and swagger. Potential Player: Alexi Casilla. Because, as with the song, you really aren't sure if he's got it under control.

More likely that than seeing it get washed down the Rivera.

Between the idea and reality, between the motion and the act, falls the home run Towles hit this afternoon. We terrible pun men wait by our computers, with our pointer fingers cocked and ready. We terrible pun men, already awaiting the opportunity to be the first to title a blog post "The End of a But-ERA" when the catcher is dropped from the roster. In this frozen land, we know only one smart-assed blogger can be the first to use "The End of a But-ERA." And so we wait with eyes watching the southeast, waiting for the moment to arise. We terrible pun men don't hate the smallish catcher as much as we delight in the small smiles of smugness. This is the way a pun begins This is the way a pun begins This is the way a pun begins Both with a bang and Butera (Apologies to Mr. Eliot)

Between the idea and reality, between the motion and the act, falls the home run Towles hit this afternoon. We terrible pun men wait by our computers, with our pointer fingers cocked and ready. We terrible pun men, already awaiting the opportunity to be the first to title a blog post "The End of a But-ERA" when the catcher is dropped from the roster. In this frozen land, we know only one smart-assed blogger can be the first to use "The End of a But-ERA." And so we wait with eyes watching the southeast, waiting for the moment to arise. We terrible pun men don't hate the smallish catcher as much as we delight in the small smiles of smugness. This is the way a pun begins This is the way a pun begins This is the way a pun begins Both with a bang and Butera (Apologies to Mr. Eliot)

Where do I have the drinks delivered, on nights when Baker is starting? I'm a desperate man.

I wholly support this forum. Especially since I fear it's going to be nothing but Party Rockin' in Target Field this year, when LMFAO'S "Sexy and I Know It" is a superior song that would lead to some of the greatest jumbotron dance moments the Midwest has ever seen.

September 1st, 2007. Driving home from a night class at St. Mary's, I turned on the Twins game. Gordo was hinting at something big happening for the guy on the mound. I listened to the game and drove home in a daze. I parked my car and did my best to walk to my back door without running or skipping. Once inside, I turned on the baseball game and called my wife into the living room. "I can't say what's going on, but look at the numbers on the scoreboard when Scott Baker gets to the mound," I told her. It was the ninth inning, and Baker lost the no-no walking John Buck. Then, he got the first out. I sat on the edge of the couch and clapped my hands, but it was over after that. Mike Sweeney singled at an opportunity for immortality had to settle for simply being a great. Everyone in the stadium clapped. "He's going to be good," I told my wife. "He's going to be really good. Just wait." It's 2012 now. Why am I still waiting?

September 1st, 2007. Driving home from a night class at St. Mary's, I turned on the Twins game. Gordo was hinting at something big happening for the guy on the mound. I listened to the game and drove home in a daze. I parked my car and did my best to walk to my back door without running or skipping. Once inside, I turned on the baseball game and called my wife into the living room. "I can't say what's going on, but look at the numbers on the scoreboard when Scott Baker gets to the mound," I told her. It was the ninth inning, and Baker lost the no-no walking John Buck. Then, he got the first out. I sat on the edge of the couch and clapped my hands, but it was over after that. Mike Sweeney singled at an opportunity for immortality had to settle for simply being a great. Everyone in the stadium clapped. "He's going to be good," I told my wife. "He's going to be really good. Just wait." It's 2012 now. Why am I still waiting?

Picture it: It's the bottom of the ninth at Target Field. The Twins are down by one and there's a runner on second. For a moment, you forgot there were two outs, and you forgot who was up next. Then, the walk-up music starts . . . and you still can't tell. It's not AC/DC, so it's not Morneau. The guy behind you asks "What song is that?" A trip to Target Field is a trip to baseball heaven, but the music gets piped in from elevator hell. Walk-up songs are a cue for fans to believe their hometown hero of the night has got the mettle to knock one out of the park, even if just on that one night. Joe Nathan once commented (couldn't find the source, but would love input if you know) "Stand Up and Shout" got the crowd to their feet. When Thome came to the plate, they played music from 300 and it felt like all hell was gonna break lose. Here are songs current Twins play that do not bring me to my feet or make me want to shout: Joe Mauer "What You Know" by TI Danny Valencia "All of the Lights" by Kanye and Rihanna/"Over" by Drake Drew Butera - "The Show Goes On" by Lupe Fiasco . . . and "Chicken-Fried," by whoever wrote that horrible song I don't care enough to research. I'm not biased against any genre of music, and I'll even allow the hated "Beautiful Day" by U2 because it does get people out of their seats. I just think Target Field would be a more exciting place if they banned all music that sounded like it came from a CD titled "Mellow Midwestern Moments," and had Joe Mauer nodding politely on the cover. I mean, hasn't Morneau's walk-up music taught us anything? Rock and roll AIN'T noise pollution, people. Axel (Thanks to http://blogs.citypages.com/gimmenoise/2011/05/minnesota_twins.php for help with tracking down song titles)

Picture it: It's the bottom of the ninth at Target Field. The Twins are down by one and there's a runner on second. For a moment, you forgot there were two outs, and you forgot who was up next. Then, the walk-up music starts . . . and you still can't tell. It's not AC/DC, so it's not Morneau. The guy behind you asks "What song is that?" A trip to Target Field is a trip to baseball heaven, but the music gets piped in from elevator hell. Walk-up songs are a cue for fans to believe their hometown hero of the night has got the mettle to knock one out of the park, even if just on that one night. Joe Nathan once commented (couldn't find the source, but would love input if you know) "Stand Up and Shout" got the crowd to their feet. When Thome came to the plate, they played music from 300 and it felt like all hell was gonna break lose. Here are songs current Twins play that do not bring me to my feet or make me want to shout: Joe Mauer "What You Know" by TI Danny Valencia "All of the Lights" by Kanye and Rihanna/"Over" by Drake Drew Butera - "The Show Goes On" by Lupe Fiasco . . . and "Chicken-Fried," by whoever wrote that horrible song I don't care enough to research. I'm not biased against any genre of music, and I'll even allow the hated "Beautiful Day" by U2 because it does get people out of their seats. I just think Target Field would be a more exciting place if they banned all music that sounded like it came from a CD titled "Mellow Midwestern Moments," and had Joe Mauer nodding politely on the cover. I mean, hasn't Morneau's walk-up music taught us anything? Rock and roll AIN'T noise pollution, people. Axel (Thanks to http://blogs.citypages.com/gimmenoise/2011/05/minnesota_twins.php for help with tracking down song titles)

Yesterday, a comment on 1500ESPN by "Everyday" Eddie Guardado took Patrick Reusse and Jim Souhan into a brief rant against the quiet, introverted Twins clubhouse. My first instinct was to write it off as being just another "back in my day we were tougher and manlier" speech. Then, I started thinking about the relationship between clubhouse dynamics and communication, like I blogged about earlier this week. It seemed to me Olson's concept of cohesiveness applies to this situation. If the team is quiet and disconnected in the clubhouse (a place we bloggers don't get to go, as another 1500 ESPN host ranted about earlier in the week), it seems to lack cohesiveness. Is this truly a problem? As always, it depends. LACK OF CLUBHOUSE COHESION COULD BE A PROBLEM IF . . . it leads to disconnected, unmotivated players. If the baseball season goes along and players aren't motivated to add a little extra effort because they don't want to let their buddies down, the lack of cohesiveness would probably take a few wins away from a team. If I were a manager, I'd consider this a problem worth getting involved in. LACK OF CLUBHOUSE COHESION WOULD NOT BE A PROBLEM IF . . . players were able to create bonds without using the usual towel-snapping, loud joking ways. If the Twins are connected in this way, I wouldn't think there was anything for a manager to worry about at all. LACK OF CLUBHOUSE COHESION COULD BE BENEFICIAL/DETRIMENTAL DEPENDING ON . . . the overall status of the team. Slower communication could mean slower change to the overall group. If the teams doing well, it means small personal problems would be less likely to disrupt the team. However, now that the Twins are not performing at their best, it suggests the recovery process could be slow going. A manager would benefit from knowing when to gas and when to let the team just keep winning. After thinking about it, it seems like the Twins being the Twins could make this year even tougher. It also seems like Ron Gardenhire has a unique opportunity to demonstrate his ability to positively impact his team in 2012. As an afterthought, the Twins said goodbye to several players who had very prominent roles in how the clubhouse operated, positively and negatively. New players will step in to fill these roles in their own way, and that's a part of the baseball season I'm really looking excited to watch develop. Reusse and Souhan thought Ben Revere might find himself a clubhouse voice. I'm not so sure, but I'm excited to find out.

Yesterday, a comment on 1500ESPN by "Everyday" Eddie Guardado took Patrick Reusse and Jim Souhan into a brief rant against the quiet, introverted Twins clubhouse. My first instinct was to write it off as being just another "back in my day we were tougher and manlier" speech. Then, I started thinking about the relationship between clubhouse dynamics and communication, like I blogged about earlier this week. It seemed to me Olson's concept of cohesiveness applies to this situation. If the team is quiet and disconnected in the clubhouse (a place we bloggers don't get to go, as another 1500 ESPN host ranted about earlier in the week), it seems to lack cohesiveness. Is this truly a problem? As always, it depends. LACK OF CLUBHOUSE COHESION COULD BE A PROBLEM IF . . . it leads to disconnected, unmotivated players. If the baseball season goes along and players aren't motivated to add a little extra effort because they don't want to let their buddies down, the lack of cohesiveness would probably take a few wins away from a team. If I were a manager, I'd consider this a problem worth getting involved in. LACK OF CLUBHOUSE COHESION WOULD NOT BE A PROBLEM IF . . . players were able to create bonds without using the usual towel-snapping, loud joking ways. If the Twins are connected in this way, I wouldn't think there was anything for a manager to worry about at all. LACK OF CLUBHOUSE COHESION COULD BE BENEFICIAL/DETRIMENTAL DEPENDING ON . . . the overall status of the team. Slower communication could mean slower change to the overall group. If the teams doing well, it means small personal problems would be less likely to disrupt the team. However, now that the Twins are not performing at their best, it suggests the recovery process could be slow going. A manager would benefit from knowing when to gas and when to let the team just keep winning. After thinking about it, it seems like the Twins being the Twins could make this year even tougher. It also seems like Ron Gardenhire has a unique opportunity to demonstrate his ability to positively impact his team in 2012. As an afterthought, the Twins said goodbye to several players who had very prominent roles in how the clubhouse operated, positively and negatively. New players will step in to fill these roles in their own way, and that's a part of the baseball season I'm really looking excited to watch develop. Reusse and Souhan thought Ben Revere might find himself a clubhouse voice. I'm not so sure, but I'm excited to find out.

The Butera problem goes like this - Drew Butera is both horrible at hitting baseballs and beloved by Twins fans. If only there was a way to keep him around Target Field without letting him get to the plate . . . Guess what? There is. Drew Butera should be the Twins mascot. There are lots of reason why Butera could step into TC Bear's shoes without much difficulty. -- He's kind of a wee little guy, and it seems like that helps with fitting into mascot suits. -- Whenever I'm at a game, it seems like Drew's already hanging out TC Bear anyway. -- He'd be just as lova-squeezable as the big bear. -- Giant costumed bears are easy to spot. If Drew, in the TC Bear costume, tried to grab a bat and walk to the batter's box he'd be easy to spot. Another player could easily tackle Butera and drag him back to the dugout before it became an official plate appearance for the team and caused irreparable damage to the Twins' chances of winning. You're welcome, Twins fans. I do all I can.

The Butera problem goes like this - Drew Butera is both horrible at hitting baseballs and beloved by Twins fans. If only there was a way to keep him around Target Field without letting him get to the plate . . . Guess what? There is. Drew Butera should be the Twins mascot. There are lots of reason why Butera could step into TC Bear's shoes without much difficulty. -- He's kind of a wee little guy, and it seems like that helps with fitting into mascot suits. -- Whenever I'm at a game, it seems like Drew's already hanging out TC Bear anyway. -- He'd be just as lova-squeezable as the big bear. -- Giant costumed bears are easy to spot. If Drew, in the TC Bear costume, tried to grab a bat and walk to the batter's box he'd be easy to spot. Another player could easily tackle Butera and drag him back to the dugout before it became an official plate appearance for the team and caused irreparable damage to the Twins' chances of winning. You're welcome, Twins fans. I do all I can.