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Axel Kohagen

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Blog Entries posted by Axel Kohagen

  1. Axel Kohagen
    Zombies have already been mentioned twice on my Twins 2013 game-by-game blog. This should not surprise anyone. I mean, I'm not Mr. Cowboypants.
     
    And I guess it's not surprising the Minnesota Twins had me thinking about zombies again, although not in the same way as the last few times.
     
    The Mets' Matt Harvey took a no hitter into the seventh inning. He's a heckuva picture -- Aaron Gleeman's giddy obsession with the hurler reached photoshopping levels during the game.
     
    That said, the Twins are the kind of team who will be fending off no-hitters more than once this season.
     
    When you're a resource-depleted team lost within its own rebuilding process, you sometimes have to hole up and fight off worse indignities than simply being a below average team. Indignities like being no-hit, or getting beaten by more than ten runs, or being held scoreless.
     
    With my mind being what it is, it's hard not to picture Twins Territory barricading doors and windows as the possibility of one of these shameful moments comes lumbering back from the dead.
     
    Since it's only the eleventh game of a long season, it's time to stock up on whatever you need to get you through those games where baseball shame is tearing the game apart like a zombie horde on the prowl. Someday, the attacks will stop and the Twins will rule the Midwest again.
     
    Until then, hide out in your basement when the games go bad and don't trust Cubs fans. They always leave the doors open for more zombies to come in. It's all they know.
     
    -Axel
  2. Axel Kohagen
    With a ground covered by snow and flakes drifting down from the sky, yesterday made me wonder if spring is coming again and the Twins pitchers and catchers need to report to Florida soon.
     
    A double dose of spring training couldn't hurt, right? I tuned into the game when I started in on supper, and Vance Worley had coughed up 10 runs by the time our meal was done.
     
    I had a hankering to go to that game, but when I texted the wife to see if she was down for wintery baseball game, her exact words were "Hell no!"
     
    At least the Twins had some fun with it. They handed out buttons celebrating Sprinter (spring and winter), gave out free hot chocolate and coffee, and played Christmas carols over the PA. Almost made me wish I'd gone.
     
    Then, I remember they lost 16-5.
     
    - Axel
  3. Axel Kohagen
    Another bland game, suffered through on a Minnesota night where the only thing worse than the grey ugliness in the sky is the twenty feet of snow coming next. The Twins didn't plate a run in a game. 11 strikes outs. Swept by the Royals. I sincerely hope we can bury this game under the snow and forget it.
     
    Earlier in my day, I enjoyed the Rue Morgue Podcast. Horror expert Andrea Subissati mentioned a Wade Davis, the ethnobiologist whose work regarding voodoo and zombies was the direct inspiration for the film The Serpent and the Rainbow. Later in the evening, another Wade Davis stood on a mound and watched zombies in red and blue come out of the visiting team's dugout.
     
    Maybe I'm just being moody, but I wonder how much more we'd have to pay for tickets to stop advertisers from sponsoring every event and nuance of a baseball game. If it's less than a buck I say we seriously considering ponying up the dough.
     
    If you weren't listening to the radio, you missed a very severe judgement of Parmalee's bunt. Provus and Gladden did not approve. The next step would have been to get a grandpa on the phone lines to say he wasn't mad at Parmalee, he was just disappointed.
     
    -- Axel
  4. Axel Kohagen
    With the evening pre-booked, I monitored this Twins game from my cell phone while revisiting cherished David Cronenberg movies from years past.
     
    At least, I started to. After it took me days to scroll down through MLB At Bat listings for Mike Pelfrey's first inning, there was no need to devote excessive brain power to watching the Twins continue their swirl down the drain.
     
    Three home runs was nice, though.
     
    Monitoring the game on your phone is as close as you can come to watching the game while still feeling like you're missing out on absolutely everything. Hard to boo a telephone, and it's even harder to cheer it.
     
    Pump your fist twice to cheer, slap your thigh once to boo. Enjoy your life in the material world.
     
    Hoping to catch a full game with my eyes sometime soon, maybe even at Target Field.
     
    -Axel
  5. Axel Kohagen
    I caught the beginning of the Twins/Royals game on my car radio. I parked to catch the first pitch and enjoy shivering memories of watching the Evil Dead remake in the theater.
     
    The movie was good, and I finally experienced my horror lover's no-hitter: I watched a scary movie in a theater all by myself. That's right - in a theater devoid of all other human beings.
     
    That's a good'n to watch solo, too. If the creepy noises don't get you squirming, the over-the-top gore will have you wiggling in your seat. When you've got the whole place to yourselves, it seems like something dead is whispering right in your ear.
     
    They should've given me a game ball.
     
    Life on the baseball diamond seemed an awful lot happier than it was for young actors in cabins. My guy Ryan Doumit knocked in a first inning run. My joy was short lived when Doumit erased himself from the base paths with some bad running.
     
    Still, a 1 run first inning seemed like a sign this would be a bad day for Royals Pitcher Ervin Santana.
     
    Next thing you know, I'm getting back in my car to find out Santana clenched his jaw and shut the Twins down after that inning. Even with Correia pitching a great game, the Twins couldn't get through Santana to notch another victory.
     
    At least the team is still over .500. For today.
     
    By the way, the original Evil Dead came out in 1981, the Twins' last year in the Met. And if the Twins tank, I might have Target Field to myself before the year is done.
     
    -Axel
  6. Axel Kohagen
    With one week of 2013 in the books, the Twins have won their first two series of the year and boast a 4-2 record.
     
    The mechanism powering these victories seems to rely on the team getting a few lucky bounces per game. If the team doesn't find some stable slugging and more dependable fielding, this burst of good fortune may give way to a mudslide of loss and despair.
     
    The real star of Sunday's 4-3 victory of the Twins was Carly Rae Jepsen. The "Call Me Maybe" threw out the first pitch for the game and, if the social media I follow was any indication, America has not soured on the singer after her song burned itself into the country's gray matter. Twins Daily mainstay Parker Hageman seemed exceptionally bewitched by the singer.
     
    Even former Twin Dan Gladden got into the action. Cory Provus took a break from calling the game to give his radio partner's dance to "Call Me Maybe" a glowing review. Gladden gave the credit to his daughters, but I expect the music was in him all along.
     
    So fickle fame hasn't left Carly Rae behind, and maybe the equally fickle baseball gods have not yet abandoned the Minnesota Twins. Who knows what Week Two will bring?
     
    -Axel
  7. Axel Kohagen
    Didn't listen to the Twins game. Had the chance to see the Timberwolves play, and I was lucky enough to see the game where Coach Adelman got his 1000 career victory.
     
    The Twins won, too. In our social media world, you never miss the baseball game. My friend and I tuned into it on the radio on the car ride to the game, when things still seemed sluggish for the team in blue. I learned they had taken the lead from a Twins tweet texted directly to my phone, and I learned the game was tied up when my friend checked the Internet. When we left a little early due to a impending migraine behind my right eye, a TV screen confirmed the score was tied. Just before I reclined on my couch to rest in the dark, my friend texted me the Twins won.
     
    Anymore, the bleachers at a baseball game extend upwards through the airwaves, into infinity. If your heart and soul are filled with baseball, you're always at the game. Restaurants become concessions stands. Bystanders become fans.
     
    I can't help falling in love with a world like that.
     
    -Axel
  8. Axel Kohagen
    A day after imaging a Twins path to the playoffs, everything awful I was expecting from the team showed up for 9 innings of baseball. Mauer didn't get a hit. The starting pitcher didn't go 5 innings. The bullpen gave out like a bad back.
     
    To top it off, the sky filled with snow while the game was on. I didn't catch much of this one - just enough to give me the idea that Liam Hendriks might be a threat to my blood pressure this year.
     
    Snow after opening day is like getting your Christmas list torn up and drizzled over your head.
     
    Let's see what they bring to the field tomorrow, huh?
     
    - Axel
  9. Axel Kohagen
    As Twins broadcast signs off and repeats the 8-2 score, my thoughts turn to a Minnesota Twins playoff run.
     
    Don't blame me. I tried to smother them in cynicism and reality.
     
    The Twins just have to win games ugly and scrappy for this first third of the season. It's going to take cold weather, weird heroes, and relentless scrappiness.
     
    In that time, they sort out their pitching staff. If they can come up with 3 above-average pitchers and then they can grind out some victories.
     
    It's not much, but it's what I came up with. I've got the spoon I stole from despair's kitchen and I've picked out a section of wall to start tunneling through. I'll order my poster of Rita Hayworth in the morning.
     
    First professional hit for Aaron Hicks. Willingham and Plouffe hit homers in the same game. The bullpen holds the whole thing together and picks up a poor outing from Roenicke. It's easy to forget the beginning of the game, which was filled with errors and Twins batters going three up, three down, in the Rhythm of Failure.
     
    Listened to the whole game on the radio and followed along with the Twitter gossip. In the middle of the game, word spread that film critic and writer Roger Ebert had passed away. Game reports came in mixed with reactions of saddened admirers. His death isn't connected to baseball except for the timing of the announcement. Baseball seasons have a way of absorbing the history around them.
     
    -Axel
  10. Axel Kohagen
    I missed most of this game. I got into my car in time to hear Glen Perkins get all Mama Said Knock You Out on the top half of the ninth. My hopes went up, and Plouffe got on base right as I parked my car.
     
    By the time I got inside and let the dog out, the Twins won on a walk-off double from Eduardo Escobar. I thought about tuning into the game for the post-game celebration but, when you miss the moment, you miss the moment.
     
    From what I heard of the game, music at Target Field sounds like someone put a mic by a cell phone left in the hands of an 8 year old. Can anyone confirm this is true?
     
    When you don't get to see the games - or even hear all of them - Twitter is where you go for your post game celebration. Everyone has to mention it's been a long time since the Twins have been at .500. Then we dissect Roy Smalley's hair, which is an activity that happens far more regularly.
     
    Wish I could've been there to sing "Mother" when Ryan Doumit walked up today. It's his birthday, and I like to think he would appreciate that.
     
    Now that the Twins have won one game, I'm convinced they can make the playoffs if they just try hard enough. At least I know enough to be embarrassed of myself.
     
    - Axel
  11. Axel Kohagen
    When I sat down in my home office and turned on the Nationals game to hear how Denard Span did with his new team, the sun was friendly and my view was mostly free from snow. By the time I got in my car and tuned into the Twins game, all I could see were piles of snow and gloomy skies.
     
    Gray is the official color of being down by two runs.
     
    The Twins must have settled in after that, but when I got back in my car I listened to them waste a bases loaded opportunity. Duensing came in and I winced.
     
    I was right to wince.
     
    At least Mauer seems ready to rumble. Listening in, it sounded like Dozier was a little off, but that might just be a by-product of my gray mood.
     
    I did my part. I put up my Twins stained glass and wore my lucky Joe Nathan shirsey (first shirsey I ever bought). I even put on my Twins socks. They're a newer part of the ritual, but they're very important.
     
    Last night Game of Thrones started a new season and The Walking Dead finished up a season. I came home listening to Sisters of Mercy cheer on the apocalypse from my car stereo.
     
    It hit me that when we picture the apocalypse or medieval times, we tend to imagine ourselves as heroes or villains. Somebody has to be the soldier who dies without fanfare, or the zombie brained without a second thought. You can't have heroes without filling the battlefield with cannon fodder.
     
    On a gray day like today, it's hard not wonder if we're signing on to cheer for cannon fonder - zombies with TCs on their heads.
     
    Maybe I'm being too hard on the team. It's only April. The days will get less gray.
     
    -Axel
  12. Axel Kohagen

    Twins In Stereo.

    By Axel Kohagen,

    The Twins take the field tomorrow for the first time in 2013's regular season. It'd be an awful lot easier to find some hope for the year if the snow wasn't so stubborn in getting off of my lawn.
     
    Starting tomorrow, I'm going to record my impression of every Twins baseball game on this, my TwinsDaily blog. I'm taking a page from Stephen King and Stewart O'Nan, who documented a Red Sox season in their book Faithful.
     
    Red Sox won the World Series when they wrote that book. I'm not holding my breath.
     
    This blog isn't going to be filled with insider information. We've canceled the cable at our house and I work a lot of evenings.
     
    I cheer for the Twins on the radio and through the Internet. I can't separate the way the home town 9 are playing from the way the city is living. Hopefully, these 162 blog entries will tell a tale of a Twins Cities summer on and off the diamond.
     
    Side note: When did it become so damned hard to watch a baseball game on my TV?
     
    If you're interested in keeping up, I'm tagging each entry #TwinsinStereo (since I'm listening to the games on the radio of course). Follow along.
     
    -Axel
  13. Axel Kohagen

    Pitch Men.

    By Axel Kohagen,

    I've been married for over ten years, so trying to find an emotional connection with this group of Minnesota Twins pitchers is really hard for me.
     
    Let me explain.
     
    Trying to keep up with the Twins players getting their innings in on the mound feels like trying to keep up with a string of bland blind dates that almost - but don't quite - squash the hope right out of your heart.
     
    I know this from single friends. It sounds like there's always something to like in the people stuck playing restaurant roulette of the damned. You just want something better than okay out of the experience.
     
    That's how I feel about all of the tall, wounded, old, unproven, shaky men who toss it sixty feet and six inches across the dish. They seem fine, but none of them make me want to put my feet up with a beer and Cory Provus's voice on the radio, waiting to see if that pitcher can cast a spell. Maybe toss a perfect game a little more perfect than Francisco Liriano's no-hitter from 2011.
     
    Unlike my dating life, the Twins are going to settle on some pitchers that are innings-eaters.
     
    "Innings-eater" is basically baseball speak for "great personality."
     
    (I'd talk now about how thankful I am to have a wife who's an all-star on the mound, but I don't want to put up with a week of her rolling her eyes and mocking me for being mushy.)
  14. Axel Kohagen
    I've liked Cory Provus from day one. The man calls a good ballgame. He doesn't oversell the drama. He sounds like baseball ought to.
     
    Since I've permanently ditched cable for the radio, I've been spending a lot more time listening to Mr. Provus. My opinion hasn't changed.
     
    However, I've begun to notice something.
     
    He's funny.
     
    He's really funny.
     
    He isn't flashy about it. He's not about loud voices, zingers, or crazy stories. I can't quote you a kneeslapper to prove my point. But he's funny just the same.
     
    You have to listen for it. Whenever I tune in Provus drops one small, subtle joke. He doesn't make a show out of it. When you realize he just said something tremendously funny he's already moved on to the next thing - and that makes it funnier.
     
    I miss that sly, dead-pan humor. Maybe it's the 90s child in me. Provus must know a little something about the 90s, considering his bio proclaims his appreciation of the band Pearl Jam.
     
    Here's what I know for sure: I'm ready to sit outside with the radio on, listening for opposite field dingers and subtle Provus zingers.
     
    Summer is looking pretty good.
     
    -- Axel
    http://www.axelkohagen.com
  15. Axel Kohagen
    While I was moping behind my snowblower, I noticed an unusual formation of snow. I turned off the machine and stepped closer to it.
     
    The identify of those piles of snow became clear. You've seen them before, too. They're the smiling, handshaking baseball players whose image lights up when Twins players hit home runs. The players looked at me as if they were waiting for me to speak.
     
    "Who will these 2013 Twins be?" I asked. "Who can I cheer for? Who can I believe in?"
     
    The figures just kept shaking their snowy hands and grinning.
     
    "I can't take any more heartbreak. No more Joe Nathan. No more Span or Revere. I'm still grieving about all the hopes and dreams I had about Carlos Gomez."
     
    For a moment, I wondered if I could even smell a baseball bat with my stuffed-up nose.
     
    "If you just tell me who the 2013 Twins are now," I began, "I know who to cheer for. I can get attached. Maybe for a couple of years, even."
     
    "No," said the one on the left.
     
    "Not even we know," said the one on the right. "Watch the stats."
     
    "There will be patterns," the one of the left said. He seemed the nicer of the two. "Some where you would expect, some will surprise you."
     
    "Don't trust in Willingham or Diamond," the right figure said. "They aren't enough. The pattern will come from the minors."
     
    "I have hopes for the starting pitching," the one on the right said. "Call me crazy."
     
    The one on the right just shook his head, snow falling from its cap to the ground.
     
    "So you're saying there is hope?" I asked.
     
    "The future is already in Florida," they said in unison. "Wait for the signs."
     
    Then, they shook hands once and the whole snow sculpture collapsed.
     
    It's probably nothing, of course. By this point in March, I think we all lose touch with reality when we stare into the snow.
     
    But I'm going to look for the patterns anyway.
     
    For more Mr. Horrorpants, head to www.axelkohagen.com.
  16. Axel Kohagen
    Weather reports tell me something wicked this way comes. I've got two gallons of gas for the snowblower and just enough left in my own tank to dig out from this one.
     
    Downtown, Target Field better be ready. Come April, we're all coming over to watch the game.
     
    With the weather waiting to pummel us yet again, how many of us are imagining a Wintery Wasteland Opening Day nightmare? Ever since they announced the stadium, the truly pessimistic of have smirked small, bitter smirks and imagined a snowpocalyptic first day for the hometown nine.
     
    -- Dick and Bert in pom-pomed stocking hats, grinning through chattering teeth.
     
    -- Players in ear-flapped hats shaking their head each time they walk up to the plate. Outfielders bouncing up and down to stay warm.
     
    -- ESPN and other national sports outlets reveling in jokes about how cold things are in Minnesota. Minnesotans, upon hearing this, tune out and throw some more salt on their front steps.
     
    -- Dozens of exactly the guys you'd expect arriving at the game shirtless. No one sees them crying the next day as they are treated for frostbite.
     
    -- Cars spinning and careening off one another like bumper cars as they empty from the downtown ramps. Fans STILL refuse to hurry as they cross the street.
     
    -- Each firework makes one cold farting noise and falls limply to the earth.
     
    -- Fans make a snowman and spend the entire game trying to get a camera operator's attention.
     
    -- The camera operators who always use the camera to scope attractive women refuse to talk to anyone/choke back tears.
     
    -- No one slides. No one cares.
     
    -- Someone makes a joke about the commercial where the California guy gets his tongue stuck to the flagpole. That person jokingly touches their tongue to the flagpole. That person realizes they've made a mistake.
     
    -- A child tries to slide on a ice patch next to a child with a bloody head crying to a parent. The sliding child does not make the connection.
     
    I believe in the Twins' grounds crew. They'll get the field right. The rest is going to be epically Minnesotan.
     
    -Axel
     
    For more on Mr. Horrorpants non-baseball writing, head to www.axelkohagen.com.
    --
  17. Axel Kohagen
    I think Twins magic begins with a car radio, a commute of erratic, skidding traffic, and staring at the sun while waiting for red lights.
     
    Returning to baseball life is a greater gift to the fans living in places where the offseason is covered in snow and loneliness.
     
    When the bat cracks and the crowd cheers, we know the small city filled with red- and blue-clad fans will be born around Target Field. There will be beer, hugs, and shouting.
     
    At that moment, the shouting comes from the guy in the car beside you. You can't heart it because his windows are up and the whole world feels warm because it's just barely not freezing.
     
    The first weeks the city of Twins Territory comes alive, the sidewalks will seem enormous without child-sized mountains of snow. People will chuckle when they remember what sandals people wore last year. Conversations will start on the street and continue, because no one is worried about frostbite.
     
    The red light changes. The game on the radio continues. A chunk of snow falls off of the car in front of you.
     
    If you couldn't hear the baseball on the radio, you wouldn't believe it was ever coming back.
  18. Axel Kohagen
    It is time we all join together to accomplish a great thing, Twins Territory.
     
    We must send Anthony Swarzak on a Bigfoot hunting expedition.

    Swarzak has publicly discussed his interest in cryptozoology. I'm skeptical about the existence of an unidentified , two-legged mammal remaining undiscovered by science for so long, but I'm definitely a supporter of encouraging curiosity into the unknown.
     
    The Twins pitcher has taken enough ribbing for his curiosity about nature, and he needs a chance to get out there into the night forests. Sasquatch hunting isn't about dressing like a ghostbuster and talking in spooky voices. It can be a professional expedition with very real dangers from the natural world around the explorers.
     
    Want a glimpse into what Swarzak would be getting himself into? Listen to this podcast where Lyle Blackburn shares stories from some of his trips.Lyle Blackburn writes about cryptozoology for Rue Morgue Magazine (find his stuff here).
     
    Whether you believe in Bigfoot or not, you have to admit taking a Sasquatch hunting trip would be an amazing experience for Swarzak. Also, it'd be a nice reward after putting up with grief from friends and fans.
     
    Why should Twins fans make this their mission, too?
     
    1) Swarzak Stalks Squatches would be reality show gold. Especially if you add Lyle Blackburn (who is also the maniacal lead singer of hellbilly punk giants Ghoultown) and closer Glen Perkins to the cast. The FSN North article above suggests Perkins would make an excellent smart aleck skeptical character on the show. Who WOULDN'T watch it?
     
    2) Reality show = extra revenue for the Twins during a rebuilding year.
     
    3) Who helps pay for the show? Jack Link's Beef Jerky. I think I've already seen their mascot throwing out a first pitch at Target field, haven't I?
     
    4) If Lyle Blackburn like spending time with the Twins, maybe he would write the team an anthem with some actual teeth. If nothing else, he'd meet Josh Willngham and hook the slugger up with his perfect walkup music.
     
    5) Let's say the guys actually find Bigfoot. The Twins get mentioned in every newspaper around the world. Then, just maybe, Ken Burns has to spend some time talking about them in his next baseball documentary.
     
    Let's get Swarzak out in the woods for the trip of a lifetime, Twins fans. We would all win.
     
    -Axel
     
    For more on Mr. Horrorpants/ (also known as "Axel Kohagen") non-baseball writing, head to www.axelkohagen.com.
  19. Axel Kohagen
    Twitter started sizzling yesterday. There's a chance Thome rejoins the team and puts a few more taters over the right field flag pole.
     
    There's no way this helps the Twins long term, but I can't help but be excited. Jim Thome is so heroic Greek mythology borrows heavily from his career.
     
    Mauer's never going to be that kind of hero. He's the quiet, unappreciated type. Biographies of the cool, consistent catcher will mention how little respect he got in his home town. They'll quote Gleeman's tweets about fans booing the local boy.
     
    Morneau actually has the potential to achieve that kind of heroism this year. Thing is, if he does, he might get traded away. We get it. We're Twins fans. We can't have nice things.
     
    If Willingham dodges the slump we all fear is coming, he could be something to sing about. Disliking Josh Willingham is genetically impossible. He's more strong, silent cowboy than cold-eyed gunslinger, though.
     
    Putting Thome in a Twins uniform will take plate appearances from players who will actually be part of the team's future. If his major league time has finally run out, watching his final whiffs at the plate will break hearts.
     
    I still hope they do it. I buy Twins tickets to buy stories and memories, and there's no way I'm buying any stories about a playoff run this year. It'll be a few years before I'm purchasing tales of breakout seasons and new team chemistry (unless Gibson and some of the new pitchers catch fire).
     
    Even it hurts the Twins, I want them to spend money for another summer of Thome. The city just seems safer and holier when you can rest assured he's standing somewhere with a bat in one hand and a smile on his mug.
     
    If the Twins front office saves me from my sentimental longings, that's probably for the best. I'm not saying I'm thinking smart here.
     
    I just can't be the guy to deny a smiling Jim Thome a trip to the batter's box.
  21. Axel Kohagen

    Back to School.

    By Axel Kohagen,

    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.
  22. Axel Kohagen
    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.
  23. Axel Kohagen

    Spring and Things.

    By Axel Kohagen,

    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.
  24. Axel Kohagen
    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!
     

  25. Axel Kohagen
    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.
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