Dave The Dastardly

Or what left field seat Kirby Pucket hit with that line drive homer on a Tuesday back in 1990 when the wind was out of the east and Tom Kelly had just opened his second bag of seeds.

I knew there was a good reason why Mississippi is such a backwards state. No fault of their own.

"I throw baseballs on thursday." Trevor May Whoop de do! I throw people off my trail every day of the week. I also throw a fit whenever the Twins bullpen blows a game. Oh, wait a minute... That Trevor May! Atta boy, Trevor! Chuck 'em in there Big Fella!

"3. The A’s – Can you remember a trade deadline that didn’t involve the A’s somehow? All the players whose number has been retired by the A’s have been traded by the A’s. It’s an endless cycle. The A’s have been stuck in an infinite loop… they have fur and then trade that fur for animals who produce fur." Great analogy Brian. And something we should all keep in mind. "5. Oysters – I like Oysters but when you look at them… you can’t help wonder… How hungry was the very first person to find an oyster and say… Screw it… I’m eating this." I've always wondered who invented pickles. Did she see this green tube-like thing growing in the woods and think I bet if I jam a bunch of these tuberosities into a pickle jar, shove some of this other weed in there, too, pour in some vinegar and boil the pi$$ out of it the old man will have something to go with his beer while he watches cavemen in suits draw out football plays on the cave walls? Did cavemen have pickle jars?

If you're going to do Joe Morgan you have to have him repeat himself at least six times in order to "make" his point. That's about how many times I wished I had a pistol at hand when he was announcing. Though I never figured out if I was going to shoot the TV or myself. Mute buttons have saved a lot of lives.

We spent a week at Ice Cracking Lodge by Detroit Lakes when I was a kid. Clearest, cleanest lake water I'd seen up until then. My brother and I could sit in the boat and watch the big fish swim right by our hooks. All except for a huge northern that just hung in the water staring at our bait (nightcrawlers) until we got tired of waiting for him and decided to jump in and catch him by hand. Like most big opportunities in life, he easily eluded us. That was also our first lesson regarding the difficulty of climbing back into a rowboat in 20' of water. Funny how when it's sink or swim time a person tends to grab onto the first life jacket he can find. Even if its in the back end of the boat. Something about the supposed signing of Jaime Garcia made me think of that.

Interesting article. Personally I don't think there's any positive correlation between age and performance. If there was we should all be excited about acquiring Colon. When a player demonstrates he can handle the level of competition where he's at, he should be moved up. Notice I said "handle", not dominate. Nobody learns anything new by dominating competitors of lesser ability because there's no incentive to do so. People who aren't challenged stagnate.

Sounds to me like they're getting a little anal.

I will be the model of restraint regarding puns for this one, but its driving me nuts.

When I was younger I was judged mental. Now that I am older I've become judgmental. Personally, I can't tell the difference. You be the judge.

Actually the bases were further apart back in those days. But then the owners decided baseball games were too long and the old fans were spending too much time standing in the bathroom line and not in the $8 hot dog line so they moved the bases closer together to shorten up the game and spice up the hot dog sales. And in a clear case of unintended consequences, professional baserunners suddenly became faster. The owners also began offering free sauerkraut for the increased sales of hot dogs which resulted in more gas being passed by the old farts, thus convincing fans of all ages to push for open air outdoor stadiums to replace domed stadiums. Which of course the owners didn't have to pay for. I know this to be true because many a Twins fan said baseball in the old Metrodome stunk.

Three or four lifetimes ago I coached a team against the Blossoms. Had a helluva time trying to fire up my guys to take on the Blossoms. Bunch of pansies.

Is that why they call it a sanctuary?

My Chief Procurement Officer and I (Titular Head of Household) start every day bird-watching over morning coffee and cookies (she makes these tremendous shortbreads) from either the sun room or the deck, weather depending. But our orioles are limited to the Baltimore and Orchard varieties. We'd kick the coffee table over with excitement if one of these babies ever landed at one of her feeders. But I'd make sure there was no damage to the shortbreads. A man's gotta keep his priorities straight...

The Rangers should be the Lonesome Doves.

Two tousand feet! Uff Da! I heard dat dey can see Norway from up dere. You betcha!

I like those pretty boobies!

Been through Ames many a time. You know, because it's in the middle. If it was at the end I wouldn't go "through" it. It's a nice place to go through, just like my home town is a nice place to be from. They both look good in the rearview mirror; one says you're on the road to greener pastures and the other says you're not there yet.

Forties? I have shoes older than that.

I have driven through Kansas numerous times. It was sort of like a "why did the chicken cross the road" thing: I needed to get to the other side. Now Nebraska; let me tell you about driving through Nebraska. The first time I did it was back in the 1970's. In a pickup truck without air - not the air you need to breathe, the air you need to keep your cool. I really had no intention of being in Nebraska. It was just in the way of me getting to Colorado and escaping my in-laws for a couple of weeks. It was July. Mid-day temps were barely south of 100, humidity was like having a wet blanket slapping you in the face. I had both windows open but the resultant breeze was akin to sticking your head into a blast furnace. I had the Platte on my left, a paltry line of scrubby trees hiding its muddy brown waters. To the right were relatively flat parched pastures, an occasional forlorn cow contemplating suicide and on the western horizon a line of railroad cars stretching from here to eternity. An hour later I was in the same place despite my gas gauge having dropped a notch. Two hours later I was in the same place, despite what my odometer was telling me. Three hours later, with the sun now shining in my eyes and bringing the cab temperature up around 150 degrees, I started to wonder if I had died and gone to Hell, condemned to spend eternity in a hot truck driving through Nebraska with the Platte river hiding behind skinny trees on my left and long trains that either never ended or weren't moving on my right. Four hours later I was still in the same place and I was contemplating suicide along with the forlorn cows. Then, just after I'd begun pawing through the cab with the thin hope that I'd left a pistol under the seat (I didn't even own a pistol) that I could use to end it all, I caught a glimpse of dark shadows on the western horizon that slowly grew in size. Mountains! Laughing deliriously, I eased the truck up to 90 mph. Salvation was mine! Until I got stopped by a highway cop. I've crossed Nebraska a half dozen times since, but always at night. In an air-conditioned vehicle. At the speed limit. Crossing Nebraska is sort of like being a Twins fan; it's a long and endless journey, the scenery never seems to change and just when you think you've finally suffered enough, something comes along to dash your hopes.

I'm at a loss. Does the FO think we need help with the pitching staff? How did they come to that conclusion? What was the first, second, third, fourth clue?

Gee, I'm not impressed. How come the Twins only sign guys the buzzards are circling? Don't we have anybody in the minors who isn't dead meat? Are we really sure Terry Ryan isn't pulling levers behind the big curtain?

Dude! Highness is a state of mind.

The last Chicago guy I looked in the eye gave me a belligerent "What are you looking at a$$hole." That was my brother. Experts say you should never look a mad dog or a Chicagoan in the eye as they consider a direct look a challenge. Even the guys in the toll booths scowled at me when I said "Hi, how's the wife and kids? Got change for a hundred?"

I see what you mean. I love the flowers but what are those big brown things? Rotten molars? And that green guy... one of the Transformers?