Axel Kohagen

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.

Okay, so it's not just me who got confused and frustrated dealing with watching Twins games on a budget. I guess it all makes sense, economically speaking. After all, I AM willing to shell out the money to get enough cable to watch the games (even if I will bitch and moan about it the whole time). So I guess it's worth it for me, or I wouldn't do that.

From the way my gut dropped when I read this thread, I think I value defense a lot this year.

Just to be cheeky, how about South Park's episode "The Losing Edge?" That's the episode where they try to lose to avoid playing more Little League games, and Stan's dad keeps fighting other dads in the stand. Now, there's no need to question my love of baseball. Now. When I was kid, I was ready for those games to be over and done with, and this episode brings it all back.

I don't mind the idea of baseball captains, but I can't imagine the Twins having one. It'd be like having a zombie foreman.

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?

I never saw Rookie of the Year, but the line "Funky Butt Lovin'" on the previews made me laugh for a whole summer. I don't know why. Just finished watching For the Love of the Game and couldn't have hated it more. During the movie, I couldn't think of a reason why anyone would fall in love with Kelly Preston's character. At least the masseuse from early in the movie was hotter and less of a grab bag of 90s/00s female character cliches. Might as well have just had the role played by Lisa Loeb.

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.

There will never be a worse insult to the game of baseball than the baseball-playing wretchedness in Twilight. Ty Cobb's ghost should have spiked each and every damned sparkly vampire in his or her face. I'd like to think there's still time for this to happen.

Especially considering the strength of the novel by Malamud. I argue the novel The Natural is very nearly a baseball horror novel.

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.

The whole "you have to be there" argument is too simplistic. Imagine applying that idea to religion, astronomy, or medicine.

If you're a Twins fan, you've questioned Ron Gardenhire's ability to manage. Even if you didn't question it before 2011, you do now. After a catastrophic season, any reasonably minded baseball fan would wonder if the man leaning on the dugout fence is going to fix his team or make it worse. If you're a fan like me, you're not in the dugout with Ron Gardenhire. Gardy has never coached me, nor has he attempted to coach me. I can analyze his performance based on what I see on television and read about online, but that wouldn't give me enough information. The debate regarding managing skills might be informed by applying communication models to the task. Specifically, David H. Olson's Circumplex model offers a framework for discussing how managing skills might be understood and evaluated. Olson's Circumplex Model (you can see what it looks like at this website - http://faculty.plts.edu/gpence/PS1012/images/circumplexmap.jpg) suggests there are multiple ways of being a happy family. Families develop problems in the areas of cohesion and adaptability. As families create more balance, they add stability. There's a tremendous amount of research and analysis on Olson's Circumplex Model, but I'm trying to avoid being overly academic. There are some interesting overlaps between Olson's views of families and managing a team. For example, Olson's view of cohesion applies directly to managing a baseball team. A team with low cohesion would be a team without connections, and a team with high cohesion would do everything together. Similarly, teams with low adaptability would resist change and teams with high adaptability would be chaotic and always changing. There may already be research further connecting the Circumplex Model to athletics, but I have not researched this idea at this time. Following this logic, the worst managed teams would combine deficiencies on both axes. A rigidly enmeshed team(low in adaptability, high in cohesion) could be a team where change is fought against and players are expected to do everything together. A chaotically disengaged family (high in adaptability, low in cohesion) would have difficulty even finding a team identify. Where do managers fit in? For Olson, fixing these problems is aided greatly by communication. The better the manager communicates through problems, the more easily teams would find balance and be able to accomplish goals. How does this relate to Gardy, and for other MLB managers? I don't think it offers easy answers. Most of team problems in adaptability and cohesion would not be the problem of one manager, but would be a joint effort of the manager, the players, the management, the players who are no longer with the team, the town, team, etc. Instead, a good manager should be aware (on some level) of these axes. I suspect a manager could do positive work with a team even if he couldn't consciously identify these differences, but I think greater conscious awareness of these problems would be helpful. Most importantly, it seems good managers communicate well. This is no bombshell, and it's still difficult to analyze when you're not involved with the team. If this article does offer anything to think about, it would be watching the axes of adaptability and cohesion during a manager's tenure. If the symptoms improve or stay stable during a manager's time on the bench, it may be a sign there's a steady hand on the reins.

If you're a Twins fan, you've questioned Ron Gardenhire's ability to manage. Even if you didn't question it before 2011, you do now. After a catastrophic season, any reasonably minded baseball fan would wonder if the man leaning on the dugout fence is going to fix his team or make it worse. If you're a fan like me, you're not in the dugout with Ron Gardenhire. Gardy has never coached me, nor has he attempted to coach me. I can analyze his performance based on what I see on television and read about online, but that wouldn't give me enough information. The debate regarding managing skills might be informed by applying communication models to the task. Specifically, David H. Olson's Circumplex model offers a framework for discussing how managing skills might be understood and evaluated. Olson's Circumplex Model (you can see what it looks like at this website - http://faculty.plts.edu/gpence/PS1012/images/circumplexmap.jpg) suggests there are multiple ways of being a happy family. Families develop problems in the areas of cohesion and adaptability. As families create more balance, they add stability. There's a tremendous amount of research and analysis on Olson's Circumplex Model, but I'm trying to avoid being overly academic. There are some interesting overlaps between Olson's views of families and managing a team. For example, Olson's view of cohesion applies directly to managing a baseball team. A team with low cohesion would be a team without connections, and a team with high cohesion would do everything together. Similarly, teams with low adaptability would resist change and teams with high adaptability would be chaotic and always changing. There may already be research further connecting the Circumplex Model to athletics, but I have not researched this idea at this time. Following this logic, the worst managed teams would combine deficiencies on both axes. A rigidly enmeshed team(low in adaptability, high in cohesion) could be a team where change is fought against and players are expected to do everything together. A chaotically disengaged family (high in adaptability, low in cohesion) would have difficulty even finding a team identify. Where do managers fit in? For Olson, fixing these problems is aided greatly by communication. The better the manager communicates through problems, the more easily teams would find balance and be able to accomplish goals. How does this relate to Gardy, and for other MLB managers? I don't think it offers easy answers. Most of team problems in adaptability and cohesion would not be the problem of one manager, but would be a joint effort of the manager, the players, the management, the players who are no longer with the team, the town, team, etc. Instead, a good manager should be aware (on some level) of these axes. I suspect a manager could do positive work with a team even if he couldn't consciously identify these differences, but I think greater conscious awareness of these problems would be helpful. Most importantly, it seems good managers communicate well. This is no bombshell, and it's still difficult to analyze when you're not involved with the team. If this article does offer anything to think about, it would be watching the axes of adaptability and cohesion during a manager's tenure. If the symptoms improve or stay stable during a manager's time on the bench, it may be a sign there's a steady hand on the reins.

Thank you very much. I hope it's clear I know being a "common" major leaguer is still being superhuman. Maybe I need to ask myself this question: Is my desire to hero worship ballplayers going to make watching the 2012 Twins more or less enjoyable? I don't know, honestly.

We used to bike to the Denver, Iowa, Kwik Trip (before it became Kwik Star) to buy baseball cards. I'd prop my dirt bike up on its kick stand, ignore it when it fell over anyway, and scramble into the store to buy packs of Topps and Donruss baseball cards. I didn't really know baseball at the time, so every card boasting a name I'd heard of was pure gold to me. I thought I had a pretty sweet collection going until my friends told me all I had were a bunch of commons. I couldn't even pretend like I wasn't hurt. Last night, listening to Gleeman and the Geek's "Episode 28: My Twin the Car," my stomach flipped over with the same kind of hurt. This nausea had nothing to do with the efforts of Gleeman or Bonnes, who put together another excellent addition of their podcast. Instead, the sickness came from realizing the 2012 Minnesota Twins seem to be largely fillled with Donruss commons. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to cheer for the Donruss commons sporting a "TC" on their hat. After 2010, it just seems like there should be more to cheer for on the team.

We used to bike to the Denver, Iowa, Kwik Trip (before it became Kwik Star) to buy baseball cards. I'd prop my dirt bike up on its kick stand, ignore it when it fell over anyway, and scramble into the store to buy packs of Topps and Donruss baseball cards. I didn't really know baseball at the time, so every card boasting a name I'd heard of was pure gold to me. I thought I had a pretty sweet collection going until my friends told me all I had were a bunch of commons. I couldn't even pretend like I wasn't hurt. Last night, listening to Gleeman and the Geek's "Episode 28: My Twin the Car," my stomach flipped over with the same kind of hurt. This nausea had nothing to do with the efforts of Gleeman or Bonnes, who put together another excellent addition of their podcast. Instead, the sickness came from realizing the 2012 Minnesota Twins seem to be largely fillled with Donruss commons. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to cheer for the Donruss commons sporting a "TC" on their hat. After 2010, it just seems like there should be more to cheer for on the team.