formerly33

BUCK!!!

And Vargas shoots himself in the foot. He needs to realize that he's not the genius manager that's gonna lead the Twins team this year.

Hey there guys ... hold on, this could still be a 2-1 loss.

I don't want to hear the story. All I was saying is that it has nothing to do with women themselves but the fact that they used to (and sadly still do) wear corsets restricted their breathing so in instances when they should have been drawing in deep breathes to sustain themselves in certain situations, they were unable to and fainted. I'd like to see it become the fashion for men to wear corsets and see if fainting became a way for men to express their delicate anatomy. No, wait, I don't. We'll put such primitiveness behind us. But did you say "never diss women in corsets"? I don't. It's the men who expected them to meet their "high" standards of feminine beauty that did it.

Ahem ... true story ..... Sitting in a chair and reading a book one uneventful afternoon, my mom was interrupted by my youngest brother, then 5 years old, when he held out his hand and said, "Look at my hangnail, Mom ... it's all red." She looked up and checked it out as instructed, and, without thinking (why should she have?), she coolly remarked that it was infected. Lil' bro immediately turned a sickly shade of greenish white and wanted to know what affected was. The definition was not supplied, but mom sent him upstairs to get a clipper for her to fix it for him. He returned looking queasier than ever and offered his hand, but before Mom had time to take it he fell backwards slowly and eloquently - and hit his head on a wooden chair in the downfall. That drew the attention that (according to the generally accepted reason hot young chicks used to faint in the good old days) he was looking for; finally alert, my mom leapt to her feet and shouted at my dad, "He hit his head! Why didn't you catch him!" Now you say, "Yeah, they always blame the husband," but don't waste your breath. I'm putting it down for you now. And why shouldn't they? If wives never blamed their husbands, the scale would be unequally balanced. Another true story ..... One year later, Lil Bro had a loose tooth. It was his first, and he was afraid to lose it - maybe having had it 5-6 years left some pretty good memories and he'd become sentimentally attached? I don't know. Anyway, it was a change over the last little brother who was so excited when his first tooth wiggled that he had it out by the end of the day (maybe he had some bad memories ... who knows?). Anyway, this tooth hung by a thread for a long time. One day when my mom was brushing his teeth, she noticed that it no longer hung by a thread but remained intact because gravity dictated it to do so. She reached in and picked it up ... Lil' Bro didn't notice ... she held it up ... Lil' Bro repeated the artistic performance he'd given us the year before. He proceeded to do this for the rest of his lower central incisors and perhaps even a lateral incisor. After a while he seemed to realize that the drama had worn off and we were expecting it to happen, so one day he lost a tooth and, much to our surprise, he didn't faint. Now that he's ten years old and we expect him to take it like a man instead of a girl with corsets on, I wonder if he picks it back up to shock us? Or would he have to lose something more dramatic, such as the World Series?

BALLGAME!!! You can totally thank Paulitor Maul!!

MIN Challenge: Call on field overturned. Luckily, I see. The deficit has been decreased by 1.

Brilliant. Positively brilliant.

If they're ghosts already, is it possible to kill them again? BTW, good job, Rosario.

Danny is torturing Cory by telling him that we're playing a little league team.

That explains why it didn't show up.

No, he means that he sees him on the screen rather than in person.

Little "hits" work too.

Tyler Jay is a left-handed pitcher from the University of Illinois and was taken with the 6th overall pick of the 2015 First-Year Player Draft by the Minnesota Twins. Born on April 19th, 1994, Jay is currently 6'1" and 180 lbs. He was lightly recruited in 2012 when he pitched for Lemont High School in suburban Illinois, but he was not drafted and went on to pitch for the University of Illinois, who he committed to because they were the only school willing to let him continue to pitch; most other schools wanted him to switch to the outfield as he hit .484 with 11 doubles and 35 RBI in his senior year, but he wanted to stay on the mound. http://theblogdaysofsummer.weebly.com/uploads/5/3/9/7/53971721/338680879.jpg Image Courtesy of RantSports.com As a freshman at Illinois, Jay was thrown into the bullpen mix where he made 18 appearances and went 1-3 with a 3.10 ERA while striking out 20 in 20.1 innings pitched. The following year he emerged as the team's closer, earning a perfect 10 saves out of as many opportunities and posting a 1.94 ERA with 47 strikeouts over 41.2 innings to earn second-team All-Big Ten honors. Playing for the U.S. Collegiate National Team last summer, Jay was teammates with Vanderbilt's Dansby Swanson and Carson Fulmer, UC-Santa Barbara's Dillon Tate, and Louisiana State's Alex Bregman, among others. He made a team-high 15 appearances, picking up 2 wins and 1 save while striking out 21 in 16.2 scoreless innings. His performance threw him into the limelight for draft prospects and made him a potential first-round pick for 2015. This season Jay went 5-2 with 14 saves and 76 strikeouts in 66.2 innings pitched, allowing only 8 earned runs for a 1.08 ERA. He made one start in the first week of the season, throwing five shutout innings against Lamar, but then moved to the bullpen and helped lead the Fighting Illini to a 27-game winning streak at one point in the season. He was named the Big Ten Pitcher of the Year and was a Louisville Slugger First-Team All-American. Though Tyler Jay has been touted as a closer, it's important to not shut out the possibility of him moving back into a rotation at some point in his near future. In college he pitched 3-4 innings to close out games on several occasions, and the tools he needs to be a starter at the next level are definitely there. Here is Jay's scouting report from MLB's 2015 Prospect Watch: "Jay drew little attention from scouts as an Illinois high schooler in 2012, when he was a slight southpaw who topped out at 90 mph. His fastball and profile have taken off since he went to college, and he helped the Fighting Illini win 27 straight games this spring after starring with the U.S. collegiate national team last summer. Now he's a lock to become the second first-round pick ever produced by Illinois, following John Ericks in 1988, and he's the consensus best left-hander in the 2015 Draft. "He is still not very physical at 6-foot-1 and 175 pounds, but Jay now works at 93-95 mph and peaks at 98 mph with his fastball, even when he works on consecutive days. He generates that heat with athleticism and a quick arm rather than an excessive amount of effort in his delivery. "Jay has a deeper repertoire than most relievers. His plus slider is his second-best pitch, and he also has a curveball with power and depth and shows signs of interesting changeup. He has enough pitches and control to lead a pro team to consider trying him as a starter, though he lacks size and could speed to the Majors if he remains a reliever." Twins scouting director Deron Johnson believes that Jay can be converted to a starter. In an article on Fox Sports North, author Tyler Mason included part of an interview with Johnson: "We definitely believe he's got a legitimate chance to start," Johnson said. "The kid's really strong....He's got really good makeup. I'm really excited." Jay has a plus-fastball that sits around 92-95 mph and a plus-slider reaching 87-89 mph, as well as a changeup at 85-88 mph. While his fastball might not have wicked speed, Tyler's curveball was arguably the best pitch in the entire draft and has been compared to Clayton Kershaw's. The continued development of his changeup will likely wind up being the determining factor in whether he ends up starting long term. Deron Johnson believes that there is a chance Jay could start at Low-A Cedar Rapids. It is possible that the Twins end up rushing him into the majors to pitch from the bullpen this year and then send him back to the minors to stretch out as a starter. The Royals did this successfully last year with Brandon Finnegan, and with their surprise run in May, the Twins have placed themselves in a similar situation. While I wouldn't say I am completely in favor of this idea, if it worked out as well as it did for the Royals, that would be nothing to complain about. He has the stuff to compete at a high level, and it's going to be a lot of fun seeing what comes of it. --- Read full entry here: Introducing Twins' 1st round pick: Tyler Jay

Hey, nobody said you had to give up anything after the championship!

Bark...don't listen to them when they say you're not old. You are. I know since you're only a few years younger than them but over twice as old as me. But happy birthday!!!!

Thank you Gocgo ... but he's right, that was an illogical mistake on my part. And by the way, it's a she, not a he, who wrote the story.

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Minnesota Twins last night. The Royals had already won the first two games of a series which was deemed crucial to who would ultimately win the AL Central, and we were down 7-1 going into the bottom of the 8th in the last game of the series. Luke Hovechar had just inherited the mound from Edinson Volquez, and Trevor Plouffe was in the batter's box with a 2-2 count. Mark Ripperger, the home plate umpire, was hoping that the game would end quickly and according to schedule so he could keep a date he was set for later that night. Grim melancholy hovered like an evil being over the stricken multitude. The Twins had been in a slump for the past week, and they couldn't see how they could come back and win a game when down by six runs with only two innings to go. In the deepest depths of despair, a straggling few got up from the stands and returned to the miseries of everyday life, preferring that to seeing their team lose yet another game without even putting up a fight as they went. The rest clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast; it was dismally whispered from person to person that the game wasn't over until it was over, and they might as well stick it out and see what happened next. Much to the fans' delight and Ripperger's dismay, Trevor Plouffe proceeded to tear the cover off the ball; when the dust had lifted and you could see what had occurred, there was Trevor crossing home, and the ball was a souvenir somewhere beyond the fence in that land known as left field. Then from 28,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell; the Plouffe birds shrieked and hollered, and the sound which emitted from their throats rumbled across the city and is even rumored to have been heard in numerous quiet living rooms stationed at various points all across the nation. Mark Ripperger began to worry just a little that the inning could turn into one of those blowout innings when the team just can't seem to stop scoring runs, and the worst thing about it was that it wasn't late enough in the game for it to automatically end after the Twins took the lead. Nervously wiping his perspiring hands on his already grubby black pants, Ripperger did a few hasty mental calculations. He knew the rule that states that balls and strikes cannot be contested beyond a little dugout and on-the-field chatter, and he also remembered that that can be taken care of quite easily and (here lies his mistake) with little to-do, so he decided that the easiest way out of it would be to widen his strike zone by just a little and ring the proceeding batters up to end the inning before anything disastrous happened. He had already earned himself a reputation behind the plate in years past, and he didn't think that anyone would notice anything out of the ordinary as long as he kept it looking pretty consistent. Accompanied by the shouts of the ever faithful, Torii Hunter stepped into the batter's box and took a few practice swings. He was already 0-2 with a strikeout on the game, but he intended to extend Plouffe's favor and get the team on an absolute role. Like the fans, he knew that no game is ever over until it's over, and based on that knowledge, he believed that the Twins would have had a chance even if they happened to be down 12-0 in the 9th. However, he also knew that it could very well depend on him to get the rest of his teammates going. 56,000 eager eyes were glued on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt; 28,000 eager tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt. In came the first pitch, and it was called a ball. As Ripperger stepped back from the plate he thought remorsefully to himself that he couldn't help that one; it was just too obvious to call it anything else, and he was sure to have plenty of opportunities later in the count. He watched as Perez threw the ball back to Hovechar, and then, while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip, the quartet set up once more, this time with a 1-0 count. Once again the leather sphere came hurtling through the air, and, in haughty grandeur, Hunter let it fly past unheeded. "That ain't my style," said he, but Ripperger bellowed, "Strike one!" and tossed his fist into the air. Then from the stands, not yet void of loyal patrons of the game, there arose a muffled roar which resembled the beating of the storm-waves upon a stern and distant shore. "Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone from behind home plate - and it's likely they'd have listened had not Torii turned and, with a smile of Christian charity, stilled the rising tumult with a gesture of his hand. The game resumed and Torii raised his bat; signaling the pitcher, he waited until the spheroid flew by again, but, as before, he ignored it; the umpire shouted gleefully, "Strike two!" "Fraud!" cried the maddened crowd, and the echo answered, "Fraud!" - and this time Torii reacted. No likening to a charitable smile flickered across his visage as he turned upon the ump, and with controlled politeness he proceeded to question Ripperger's salary, manhood, and vision. Of course, being an umpire, Ripperger decided to take it personally, and he curtly bid Torii hold his tongue and finish his at-bat. As Torii turned back to face the pitcher, he thought he discerned the words from Ripperger's mouth as he breathed heavily down Salvador's neck: "Just wait; you'll see me deal with this good-for-nothing smart aleck." On hearing this, the sneer disappeared from Torii's lip and was replaced with teeth clenched in hate as he pounded with cruel violence his bat upon the plate. And now the pitcher held the ball...and now he let it go...and leaning over Perez's back, Ripperger called Torii out on balls. Down went the bat and Torii was upon the umpire before he could even stop and congratulate himself on his success. However, with visible effort Torii restrained himself and managed to keep relatively cool while speaking the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth (meanwhile dropping in a few magic words in appropriate places where they seemed to best belong). Rippenger had never seen the likes of it before, and will probably never see it again, either. Strongly sympathizing with his sorry self and letting his growing hatred for Torii get the better of him once more, he tore off his mask and tossed Hunter from the game. Now from the dugout came the skipper of the Twins. He knew that the umpire was getting out of control, and it was his duty as the oldest, wisest, and most mature man present to maintain the order at Target Field. He marched up to Ripperger and started to ask him to explain himself, but before he had a chance to get the first three words past his lips and to Ripperger's unwilling ear, he had been ejected as well. The scene that followed will go down in the books as one of the better post-ejection performances in the history of baseball. Tearing off his elbow pad, shin guard, and batting gloves, Torii hurled them one by one onto the ground near where Ripperger had been standing just moments before. As he dismissed each article as unworthy of adorning his infuriated being, the shouts from the stands grew louder. Here, they thought, was something worth seeing, sweep or no sweep. It wasn't every day that they got to see their rookie skipper ejected, and, even more interesting, they would never have thought ten minutes previously that they might get to see a major leaguer undress on the field...much less Torii Hunter. So amid combined boos and giggles, Torii clutched at the ends of his jersey and pulled it over his head. With a few more choice words of spiteful derision, he tossed it away as a final hurrah and returned to the dugout unassisted. Thus ends our story. I must say that I am impressed with Torii's rant. He carried it on just long enough to keep people excited and wondering what would happen next, but at the same time he stopped before anyone dreamed of turning their eyes to the night sky and therefore missing part of the enactment. He had left a lasting impression, and that was the whole point. He had a perfectly legitimate undershirt which could have joined the pile of dirty laundry, but he wisely chose to let it stop at that. He could have kept on going until he ran out of resources, but he knew that that would spoil the whole effect. It was better to leave while his antics were still being appreciated and just give the cameraman one parting glance as he stepped down into the dugout that said plainer than words, "You've had your fun, and now you're done." The man is a true genius; the Twins will be wise to make him their general manager when he grows up. --- Read full entry here: Torii at the Bat

I've always assumed that I'd invariably get my baseball news secondhand from my younger brother, a fanatical baseball fan and true stats geek, until we no longer lived in the same household and I would be obliged to do the research on my own. That is, until he finally managed to talk me into starting a Twins Daily account last November.At first I rarely visited the site, only doing so when he succeeded in persuading me to post an idea I'd have now and then, but, as time went on and baseball came back for good this spring, I got more consistent and even learned to broaden my horizons to other baseball websites and look up more than just the Twins score every day. When this year's minor league season started, my brother was super excited since it was his first year to be able to participate in Twins Daily's "Adopt-a-Prospect" feature. He was hoping to be able to take Kohl Stewart, but though he got on just minutes after the thread started, he was disappointed to see that Stewart had already been claimed by another member. But then he noticed that Byron Buxton, the top prospect in baseball, hadn't yet been claimed; I guess everyone else, like my brother, was assuming that he'd already be taken by the time he had a chance to make a pick. Naturally he immediately jumped at that once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and took him. I was pretty excited for him. Writing about baseball was something he'd dreamed about doing for some time, and to get Byron Buxton on such a prestigious website as Twins Daily was a huge deal. He told me that I should take someone, but I kind of shrugged it off and said that I wouldn't have time. However, he kept pushing the point, and finally I decided to just take a look at the prospects still available. At the time, I hardly knew anything about the players, and only recognized the top names from hearing him talk about them so much. I decided to choose in an unorthodox manner; scrolling through the Twins minor league rosters, I looked for a player who wore the number 33 on his jersey. (I go by "always33" on Twins Daily since Justin Morneau has always been my favorite ballplayer, and I thought it would be kind of fun to have my prospect wear 33, too.) The player on the Fort Myers Miracle who wore 33 was at the bottom of the pitchers. It was a name I'd never heard before, Luke Westphal. "Is he any good?" I asked. "Well, it's a kind of cool story," my brother responded. "He's from Wisconsin, but he never got drafted, and then he went to play winter ball in Australia last year, and the Twins signed him during the offseason." That was enough for me. The story caught my attention, and I suddenly wanted to write about this guy. Westphal is a guy who had to go all the way to the other side of the world to sign with a team not four hours from his native town. I signed up and got to work. The next day I spent hours researching Westphal's career from college to independent baseball to Australia winter ball to Fort Myers. I scrolled through pages of Google results and read everything I came across until there wasn't another page to be found. With pages and pages of notes, I organized my information as best I could and put together my first ever Adopt a Prospect page...and my first ever article about a baseball player, much less a minor leaguer who had only made one appearance so far. By the time I was done and had it posted, I was feeling pretty exhausted. My brother, who had also adopted Zach Jones, wanted me to take a second player as well, but I put my foot down and said no. One was enough...at least for the time being. But maybe five weeks later, I became interested in another minor leaguer's career: Trey Vavra, son of Twins' bench coach Joe Vavra. He was terrorizing pitchers in low A and had just been awarded Twins Minor League Player of the Week after posting 10 hits (1 double), 8 runs, 2 RBI, and 6 walks in just 19 at- bats, earning a .560 batting average on the week. I got excited about him and decided to adopt him, too...and then when I started doing research about him I discovered that he not only wore 33 but had been drafted in the 33rd round of the 2014 First-Year Player Draft. I was pretty thrilled, to say the least. How cool was it that I now had two prospects who shared jersey numbers with my favorite all-time player, however short the time would be that they'd keep them. I got Trey's page up and was rewarded when Seth Stohs, my new writing hero whose articles I always read with enthusiasm almost equal to watching the Twins play, thanked me for doing so and told me that I had done a great job. I don't mean to brag about myself, but I was so excited that I adopted D.J. Baxendale, a starting pitcher for the Chattanooga Lookouts, not twenty-four hours later, if my memory serves me right. And he wasn't the last one, either. Just a few days ago I got Todd Van Steensel's page going, and now I have four prospects to follow and update on a minimum of a weekly basis. It's been a lot of fun, and while I was right that it would be time consuming, it's well worth it. I've developed a sort of sentimental attachment for each and every one of those players, and it's going to be pretty sad if I can't get them all again next year, for whatever reason. But I'm enjoying following them now (and all the rest of the Twins' minor leaguers, even though I can't adopt them all), and I'm going to relish every moment of it while it lasts. I've included a brief overview of each of my prospects below, and if you're interested in learning more about them, you can click on their names to read their Adopt-a-Prospect pages. It's been a lot of fun reading about their careers, and I hope you enjoy reading the pages I've put together for them! D.J. Baxendale, right-handed starting pitcher for the Chattanooga Lookouts, was drafted in the 10th round of the 2012 First-Year Player Draft out of the University of Arkansas by the Minnesota Twins. Since then, he has worked himself up to Double A, and this year he has made nine starts and posted a 3.47 ERA over 49.1 innings pitched, striking out 42 and walking 16. His record currently stands at 3-1. Luke Westphal, left-handed pitcher for the Fort Myers Miracle, was signed by the Twins in early 2015 after being discovered by Twins scout Howard Norsetter when he was pitching for the Doncaster Dragons of Australia’s Baseball Victoria Summer League where he started 14 games and collected 141 strikeouts with an ERA of 0.49 in 80 innings. He was assigned to High-A to start the season, and so far he has made 12 appearances, starting 5 games and picking up 2 wins and 2 losses. He currently has 20 strikeouts and 13 walks over 29.2 innings pitched. Todd Van Steensel, right-handed closer for the Fort Myers Miracle, has had a somewhat rocky minor league career but was given a second chance with the Minnesota Twins when they signed him to a minor league deal on February 6, 2014. This year he has played in 16 games at Fort Myers and is currently 1-2 with 4 saves in 6 opportunities. He has allowed just 24 hits over 29.1 innings, and he already has 42 strikeouts whilst walking 17. Trey Vavra, first baseman, left fielder, and designated hitter for the Cedar Rapids Kernels, was selected by the Twins in the 33rd round of the 2014 First-Year Player Draft out of Florida Southern College. His father, Joe Vavra, and older brother, Tanner, were already parts of the Twins organization, so it was pretty special for Trey to come to the Twins, too. This year he has played in 42 games at Class A, batting 319./.392/.454 (.846) with 10 doubles, 1 triple, 6 home runs, 28 RBI, and 29 runs scored. Unfortunately he was placed on the 7-day DL on May 27 due to a sprained left ankle after banging into the tarp down the left-field line chasing a foul ball. However, the week is almost up, and I'm eagerly anticipating his return to the field. --- Read full entry here: Twins Daily's "Adopt a Prospect" - How I Became Addicted Click here to view the article

And the Twins fans are like: http://stream1.gifsoup.com/view/149430/sanchez-draft-o.gif

Besides the fact that this previously has not been standard procedure, it would be too tempting to have a link to various valuable and informative sites for each letter in each players' name. It is an idea, however. You seem to forget the links to each adoptive "parent" though. Edit: I lost my edit button for that post. You have your work cut out for you!

I know that we've all been talking about how people just won't take the Twins seriously and persist in singing the song of "bad team, good baseball." But this past series has gotten me, like everyone else, thinking on overdrive. How do I know it's not us more than anyone else who isn't taking this team seriously? Maybe instead of going crazy over a two-game losing streak we should turn it around and say "good team, bad baseball" like the White Sox. Seriously, we have more reason to do so at this point than almost any other team.

Since it's been over a month since the last update, here is your list as of 06/07/15: Mat Batts - Shane Wahl D.J. Baxendale - always33 James Beresford - SD Buhr J.O. Berrios - curt1965 Cameron Booser - Shane Wahl Nick Burdi - Steve Lein Byron Buxton - Hrbowski Michael Cederoth - 2wins87 JT Chargois - PeanutsFromHeaven Tyler Duffey - stringer bell Ryan Eades - JunkWaxTwins Jorge (JJ) Fernandez - ashburyjohn Dallas Gallant - Hrbowski Mitch Garver - Tyomoth Stephen Gonsalves - MinnFan4Life Niko Goodrum - lightfoot789 Nick Gordon - RollingOaks Zach Granite - Shane Wahl Travis Harrison - gunnarthor Aaron Hicks - curt1965 Dalton Hicks - nicksaviking Trevor Hildenberger - Hrbowski Chih-Wei Hu - JaleelWhite FanClub Zach Jones - Hrbowski Felix Jorge - ashburyjohn Max Kepler - bluechipper Tyler Kuresa - ashburyjohn Zack Larson - Joe Mulligan Trevor May - Joe Mulligan Alex Meyer - markos Amaurys Minier - AM Alex Muren - ashburyjohn Max Murphy - TJG Brian Navarreto - Shane Wahl Lester Oliveros - Shane Wahl Daniel Ortiz - Shane Wahl Brandon Peterson - TheDean Jorge Polanco - milldaddy35 Jake Reed - Bill Tanner Taylor Rogers - Shane Wahl Eddie Rosario - bulldozier14 Adrian Salcedo - Shane Wahl Miguel Sano - nytwinsfan Todd Van Steensel - always33 Kohl Stewart - Dance with Disco Dan Alex Swim - stringer bell Lewis Thorpe - Dance with Disco Dan Stuart Turner - nate10s Trey Vavra - always33 Engelb Vielma - ashburyjohn Adam Brett Walker II - Shane Wahl Luke Westphal - always33 Jason Wheeler - Secondary User The following players have also been taken, but I listed them seperately since their pages have not been started yet. It should be noted that they are now open to be claimed by anyone, but I would encourage you to start a page for them if you see your name on the list. Tanner English - Jeff Reboulet Yorman Landa (DL) - Jeff Reboulet Brett Lee - James Levi Michael (DL) - teekz Greg Peavey - scottz

Sometimes you're forced to admit that your best ideas stem from another person's brainchild. It turns out that this is exactly the case when it comes to a Princess Bride parody I wrote up yesterday after giving some thought to why I've been seeing a recurring joke about Paul Molitor being the Man in Black on Twins Daily game threads. I had absolutely no idea why or how the nickname started, but I loved the way it tied right in with my previous plans to someday write something about the Twins storming the castle (meaning the Royal's Kauffman Stadium), so I went ahead with the idea. It turns out that SampleSizeOfOne, a regular on Twins Daily, started it all a few days ago with some reference to The Princess Bride and the Twins, and apparently my interpretation is actually not that far off base. So if you like it, don't give me all the credit since I owe my story in part to him, and if you dislike it...well, please don't lay all the blame on me. That just wouldn't be fair. http://theblogdaysofsummer.weebly.com/uploads/5/3/9/7/53971721/2636985_orig.jpg Remember last offseason? There's a little-known saga that could use some publicity concerning a few of the top people for the Twins. It all started one torpid day back in September when Jim Pohlad, Terry Ryan, and Ron Gardenhire were chatting over a tequila after a long day of discussing the merits of the current roster. "We need a new manager," Jim remarked lazily. "This just isn't working out anymore. You know of a good replacement, don't you, Gardy?" Gardy stared down at his hands and mumbled gloomily. After prodding him a bit further, Jim decided that he was too far in the tank to respond legitimately and instructed Terry to jog his memory a bit when he came around. The next day Terry told Ron that if he wanted to stay in the Twins organization he'd have to step down, but he promised that he would get him a position in the front office where he could have a say in who would inherit the managerial office. Gardy agreed to step down, but needless to say, he was still pretty miffed about losing the job and refused to accept the position in the front office. Terry reported back to Jim, feeling bad since he'd lost Gardy for good. "I'm sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to jog him so hard..." and then he stopped and started in surprise and consternation. Jim was staring intently at a framed picture of Carl Pohlad that hung on the wall of his living room, and suddenly he started to murmur something in almost unintelligible monotones. "Father, I have failed you for four years. Now our misery can end. Somewhere, somewhere close by, is a man who can help us. But we just can't find him." It turns out that Jim underestimated Terry's sleuthing abilities. Without any aid from Jim besides the money to fulfill the contract, Terry picked a former Twins player and coach who had returned to Minnesota for the 2014 season. Obviously the man, often referred to as Molly but better known to members of the front office as the Man in Black, was pretty smart if he was able to foresee his future role as manager of the Minnesota Twins a year in advance, so Terry was pretty confident that it would work out alright. However, spring returned and the regular season was once again officially underway. Much to Terry's surprise and consternation, the Twins got off to a horrible start. In fact, even the most optimistic of die-hard Twins fans gave up the season as lost after just one week of ball and a record of 1-6. Nobody in their wildest dreams could imagine ending the season with more than 72 wins; in fact, it wouldn't surprise them at all if they finished closer to 62. So no one took notice when Terry summoned Jim to his office and, with arms stretched across his desk and his head dropped dramatically into his hands, he muttered something that sounded to the fly on the wall like, "It didn't work." Jim leaned against the closed door in his best attempt to look like a nonchalant loiterer. Dangling from his long, thin fingers was an A. Flores 1975 Serie Privada Capa Habano SP52, which was as characterizing a trait of him in recent years as his wife's Baccarat Les Larmes Sacrées de Thebes. But that has nothing to do with our present story. Opening his mouth and letting out a stream of smoky sweetness, he murmured, more to himself than anybody else, "It just is not fair." The minutes passed in somewhat strained but companionable silence, with the only interruption being a heavy sigh emitting from Terry's lungs when Jim thoughtlessly tapped his ashes onto the spotlessly clean carpet of his study. Finally Jim broke the tranquility by saying in a voice that was intended to betoken determination, "Well, the Pohlads have never taken defeat easily. Come along, Terry." With a great effort, Terry raised his head and stared listlessly at Jim. "What's up? Have you any money?" Jim shook his head at Terry's ignorance and assured him that they weren't going to attack the free agent market or negotiate a trade of any kind. "As expected," Terry muttered under his breath. "What's that?" questioned Jim sharply, but Terry waved it off and refused to answer. "Well," Jim proceeded, "I do have a little money; I hope it's enough to buy a miracle...that's all. Call the Man in Black." Terry Ryan obeyed, meanwhile planning that if any moves would be taken on Jim's part to remove the Man in Black from his role as manager, he would have to start a revolution in the front office. They met as planned at a quiet, somewhat disreputable bar that had a backroom where the owner stayed, refusing to admit anybody under any conditions. Witnesses say that they disregarded all warnings from the bartender and knocked loudly on the door. From within the owner was heard to shout, "Go away." However, Terry Ryan, not to be put down, knocked even louder, enough to even attract the attention of a bouncer who strolled over to see if his services were required. The door opened a crack and the owner, irritated, said, "What? What??" Terry Ryan, pleased with his success thus far, responded, "Are you the Miracle Max who worked for the Royals all those years?" Miracle Max (I'll just say it - it's no mystery) grunted, "The stinking Royals fired me. And thank you so much for bringing up such a painful subject. While you're at it, why don't you give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it? We're closed," and banged the door shut in their faces. However, Terry Ryan refused to be abashed and swatted it back open again before he had time to lock it. Miracle Max roared, "Beat it, or I'll call the brute squad!" "I'm on the brute squad," said Jim, glad to be able to finally chip in with his own piece. He reached down and tapped his wallet impressively. Miracle Max sized him up and then muttered, "You are the brute squad." Terry Ryan decided to stop beating around the bush and got directly to the point. It was getting late and he was beginning to feel just a little thirsty, and he wanted to get the job done so he could quench that growing thirst before it got to be unbearable. "We need a miracle. It's very important," he told Miracle Max, looking him straight in the eye, a trick he'd learned in his early scouting years. Max seemed to relent a little but stubbornly stuck to his point. "Look, I'm retired. And besides, why would you want someone the stinking Royals fired? I might create even worse problems for the Twins." By this time Terry Ryan was almost frustrated, and he glanced up at the ceiling in an attempt to calm his nerves and collect his thoughts. "How could it get any worse?" he asked patiently. "This here gentleman has some questions for you," indicating the Man in Black with a wave of his hand. "He does, huh? I guess I can listen. Apparently I'm doing that anyway. Come on in." Miracle Max opened the door a little wider to admit them, and they stepped across the threshold. Nobody knows what went on during the long hours that they spent in there. Of course there are rumors, but not a single one relates to another, so I'll leave most of them out of our story. However, there are a few that deserve honorable mentions: some people swear that there was talk of noble deeds, true love, MLT sandwiches with nice lean mutton and ripe tomatoes, promises of humiliations galore, and miracle pills. Naturally we'll reject the finale as wholly impossible, but the others...well.... However, as that's likely just a bunch of hogwash, I'll skip ahead to what's reported of when they came back out. Unfortunately by that time everyone besides those four were pretty stewed, but when the door finally opened, it seems that Miracle Max had unearthed a wife named Valerie, and the two of them were being thanked profusely by Terry Ryan. Valerie seemed especially fond of them and called out, "Bye-bye, boys!" and Max said, "Have fun storming the castle!" to which his wife questioned, "Do you think it'll work?" and he responded, "It would take a miracle." Then history comes into play. We hosted Kansas City and won our first series of the year. It turns out that Miracle Max, being somewhat intoxicated himself, must have been mistaken when he instructed them to have fun storming the castle since it wasn't until later in April that we went to Kauffman Stadium, but then again, the mistake could be due to the fact that all the witnesses were as drunk as broiled hoot owls. But no matter. Whatever went on in that room in the back of the bar was truly a miracle, and we've done just marvelous since then. I won't question authority when I recognize it. --- Read full entry here: Storming the Castle