Dave The Dastardly

I drove through Cleveland once. Had to take a swing past Jacobs Field because my son's favorite movie at the time was Major League. Unfortunately the Indians were on the road. No Jobu. Life's been nothing but curveballs ever since. Though I have developed a taste for rum...

Patience, Grasshopper! That's advice for Molitor more so than Berrios. At this point there's nothing more for Berrios to learn in AAA so don't even think about sending him back down if he struggles early on. Let him know he has the season to prove himself, not just a couple of starts.

Free Jose!!!!

I toured the U-505 at the Science Museum there in Chicago. Reminded me of the Twins; usually submerged and the crew bailed out rather than go down with the ship.

Okay, I give up. The headline says LHP, the blurb says RHP, the photo shows LHP. What is this guy? Ambidextrous? More importantly, how bad is he? I mean what's the market value on a slightly used D Santana? Just north of a box of new baseballs?

Interesting article. My takeaway is that exit velocity and launch angle are not valuable predictors. But the limitation on stats is always that they tell us what happened and what's likely to happen, but not what is going to happen for sure on any particular play. And that unpredictability is what makes a ball game a ball game. If it were otherwise, why would we watch?

Forget sending him down. We already have far too many players in the minors that are too good for minor league competition, but haven't been given the chance to prove themselves at the major league level. It's sink or swim time for many of them, but if we never throw them in the deep end of the pool we'll never find out. Get on with it. Put 'em to the test and if they can't cut it, well then have a fire sale. At the least we'd open up some spots in the minors for future prospects that might prove to be major league material.

I must confess (little play on words there) that I attended a Catholic school and even did some time as an altar boy, until the parish priest decided it would be best for all concerned if I pursued my educational opportunities at the public school. I’m also a fan of fortune cookies and therefore feel qualified to weave a few of today’s game threads, Joe Torre getting reamed in church, platitudes instead of fortunes inside fortune cookies and the ashes on the forehead thing, into a nice little knot. First off, Catholics like to wallow in guilt. That’s why the woman chewed Torre a new one in church; she was just being a good Catholic and helping him feel guilty. Although just being the Yankee manager should be enough of a guilt trip for anyone. Dominus vobiscum. Secondly, Confucius died centuries ago and Charlie Chan last century. Now the Chinese are more into making shoddy products than coming up with meaningful predictions. They’ve lost their perspicacity and now just look for a paycheck at the end of the week. Ergo, no more pithy prognostications. Man lying on hill, not on the level. Lastly, my brother Goose and I decided to skip morning mass on Ash Wednesday once. Spent that hour driving around town in our 55 Olds smoking cigarettes, eating cookies and enjoying our good fortune. (You see how I snuck that in there?). The thing was, being the poor Catholics that we were, we forgot it was Ash Wednesday. So we show up for school as the only two unmarked students in the building. After a hasty barnstorming session, we slipped into the basement men’s room and lit up a couple of smokes, carefully saving the ashes in the palms of our hands. When he had enough ash, we smeared crosses on each other’s forehead and exited stage left only to discover Sister Lydia waiting outside the bathroom door for us. Apparently cigarette smoke is quite noticeable to nuns with large noses. We were toast and our immediate future looked pretty hazy. Needless to say we got our ashes kicked. Mind like parachute, work best when open.

18? The "kid" looks to be closer to 30. You sure he didn't sneak over here from Cuba? You know, the country that can't keep track of birthdates?

Hope springs eternal. Especially if you're a Twins fan. So this spring I'm hoping the Twinks won't be eternally in the Central cellar. Funny, it just occurred to me that my friends think I'm an optimist. But when it comes to the Twins, my beer mug is always two thirds empty. Maybe if I got hypnotized...

What's he pointing at? Is it a bird? A plane? Kent Hrbek in tights?

Here's my prediction: The Twinkies come out of the gate like a three-legged horse. They can't pitch, can't field and can't hit. But they're pretty good at marbles. By July the buzzards are circling. The Front Office fires Molly to save him from a lynching and their own necks from the dreaded "vote of confidence" from the owner. Dougie rides in to the rescue and gets carte blanche (that's French; means he can do whatever the hell he wants). Dougie demands solid baseball from every player and soon there's more players in the dog house than in the dugout. Veterans find themselves on the trade market and all those hot prospects languishing in the minors find themselves on the Big Club. They struggle through July, the Twinkies are paying homeless people with free hot dogs to take tickets and cheer every now and then. Dick and Bert spend gametime regaling us about that game back in 1987 when Herbie and Kirby hit back-to-back homers; it was a Tuesday. Dick remembers it well because he spilled mustard on his microphone in the excitement. Bert remembers it because he said WTF on the air and got a 1 week suspension. Dougie contemplates suicide, but instead opts for beating up the opposing manager during the pre-game. Then, just when all Minnesotans are traveling incognito (that's Italian - in this case it means no one takes their snowshoes with them) whenever they leave the state, the prospects begin to gel, like... jell-o. The young pitchers start throwing complete game shut-outs, the batters start hitting above the Mendoza line and are shooting line drives off the wall (the outfield wall - not Trump's wall) and the fielders start fielding like they're gloves are made of velcro - or maybe got some of that black pine tar in the glove pocket. Anyway, the North Pole (that's Dougie) has the kids playing like real major league baseball players and they're whipping butt like Lash Larue (you gotta way back in time for that one). And all of a sudden, just like that, The Twinks make the playoffs and the whole damn state drags their Homer Hankies out of mothballs, the bandwagons are overloaded and fans start leaving flowers on Halsey Hall's grave. That's when I wake up. Gotta lay off that medicinal marijuana. Is it summer yet?

"Or, I suppose one could look at left-handed hitting catcher Jason Castro, who has veteranness (veterenacity? veterantment?) on his side." John- Might I suggest "veteranshipmanship". Apologies to MASH. Nice article by the way. I am getting so baseball smart from this site I think the Twins will soon be calling me to take over for Molly. Unless of course they go with Dougie instead.

Right on, Dude! (I'm a child of the 60's) My sentiments exactly! Though I think Berrios screwed the pooch by picking WC over spring training. His choice sure wouldn't blow up my skirt if I was the manager.

"But to change course on the reliever with the highest upside because of a middling spring training performance is either short-sighted or a flawed philosophy. " Actually I think it's both; short-sighted front office and Molly's flawed (and failed) philosophy. Saints preserve us! (That can be taken two different ways if you think about it.)

Cool stuff! I'm now smarter about pitching. Probably grade out around a D-, but I'm an old dog. Which means I won't remember any of this stuff tomorrow morning. Just like how I'm having trouble remembering how badly the Twins pitching staff sucked last year. Anybody seen my season ticket application? I think I started to fill one out...

Interesting article. Can't say as it makes me giddy about Santiago though. But I'm hard to giddy. That's why I haven't bit into the tail-wagging-the-dog (is there a pun in there somewhere?) theory over Obi Wan Castro and pitch framing either. I suppose somebody is going to come up with a nut-cup-adjustment statistic next and high school catchers all over the country will be working on their... balls instead of strikes.

Berrios has blown his chances of going north with the big team by sitting on the bench for the WC. He starts in Rochester. Mejia joins him so our "experts" can get a longer look at him. Duffy wins the 5th spot by default. Shaggy should join the major league pen. I see no future for Haley unless the Twins can cut a deal. If the BoSox wanted him back, he wouldn't have been available, IMO. So given the Twinkies historical interest in cast-offs, I think the pony up some cash and send him to Rochester. Given what we already have in the minors, I still can't figure out why we picked him up in the first place. But then I'm not a pitching guru, at least not as guru as some are said to be. Okay, maybe I'm not a guru at all. Maybe I've just been listening to Bert for too many seasons. Or maybe not enough seasons... Whatever.

Vogelsong's demise, though feared by many experienced Twins fans as something that would not take place until July or later, was inevitable. The Twinkies are the only major league team that has always sought messiahs in the old folks home. Or the morgue. Sometimes bystanders have to let the hopeful jockey know he's riding a dead horse.

An aggressive manager (like Dougie) would have Shaggy on the major league team. Molitor has no patience for young players and prefers not to use the yutes (apologies to Cousin Vinny) until they're at least 30 years old and have proven themselves to be perfect while throwing their arms out in the minors. Somebody should prod Molly every now and then and make sure he hasn't fallen asleep.

Charlie Chan says "Death by a thousand cuts most painful. Expectations sharpen blade."

I can remember LB Windschitl leading off for us in the 1950's. In other words, who's Rick Monday? Did he play other days of the week?

Is that a Catch-22?

You're right. If truth be told, I visit Twins Daily for wit, not wisdom. If I don't get at least one belly laugh and two chuckles off this site every day I'm outta here. Otherwise being a Twins a fan is just too depressing.

If I was 30 years younger I'd jump on the deal, but there's no way an old geezer with bad knees, ankles, feet (take your pick) is going to go standing room only. But then he isn't going to drink too many $10 beers either unless they come with a handful of bicarbs. I bet the Twins are going to strike out with the old foggies with this package. Cheaper and easier to enjoy the game stretched out on the couch with Dick and Bert for company. But then they always say that baseball is a young man's game anyway.