Dave The Dastardly

How's young Vlad the Impaler been doing? Anybody seen him in action?

Okay, how did you get a photo of me and the wife?

I agree about the attitude. I once took over a decent basketball team that had a history of laying down whenever they played a particularly good rival team. By "laying down" I mean the players went into their game with resignation, expecting to get whipped. And so they always did. Once I took over I spent as much time "head" coaching as I did head coaching. The first time the two teams met we lost by 20 points, the closest the game had been in years. The second time we played, we lost by 8 but were in the game until the final quarter. We met again in the sectional tournament and made a real game out of it; lost by 2 in overtime. Team talent hadn't changed, but team attitude had. The winning coach told me later that going into the tournament we were the only team he was afraid of. Maybe his team sensed that in him and they came to the game less confident they could beat us. Personally, I always thought Gardy was mostly responsible for the Twins poor showings against the Damn Yankees. You could sense his defeatist attitude ahead of every Yankee series right through the TV. I don't get that from Baldelli. So I ain't afraid of no stinking Yankees. I'm with the Beach Boys; I'm sensing Good Vibrations.

Confucius say, Twins fan dying of thirst will gladly accept half a glass of beer.

I wonder if all the "outdoor baseball" enthusiasts were there. I remember when the Twins pushed for a domed stadium because of Minnesota's unpredictable weather. And then they pushed for an outdoor stadium because... well, they needed new luxury boxes. Now that the indoor/outdoor pendulum has swung in both directions don't be surprised when the push starts for a retractable roof, which, considering where we live, was the logical solution in the first place. Until then we may have to go north of the wall and find some wildlings that can play baseball.

Sad days are quite common in Minnesota. In fact if you look up "pessimist" in the dictionary you'll find a sorry looking guy in a Twins cap standing next to a guy in a Viking helmet. The dufus taking a knee in front of them in the photo is wearing a Timberwolves jersey. But hope springs eternal. This is spring and it's... twenty degrees below average and it snowed yesterday. Forget I mentioned it. Live in the moment, however brief.

"I won't make up my own history for glue, as that would just beating a dead horse." It's a little known fact that after they ran out of dead horses, they started making glue out of Elmers. Probably why I haven't run into an Elmer in the last 20-30 years. Course if I had, I'd probably have stuck with him. Reminds me when I was kid and my brother broke my Rocky Colavito (sp) bat throwing a tantrum after striking out... again. Rocky bats had a handle about the width of a pencil, so it wasn't like my brother was super strong or anything. Anyway, since we'd exhausted our combined allowances on a string of double feature movies at the local Pix and thus were short of bat-buying money, we decided to repair Rocky. Smeared the splinter halves with Elmer's, then drove several nails through the handle to hold it together. Finished off the repair work with some of that fuzzy electrical tape they had back then. Imagine our surprise when the umps wouldn't let us use Rocky in Little League games anymore. Worked good though for pounding tent stakes into the ground and killing the errant frog.

Unforhitable... didn't Sinatra sing that? Maybe yesterday's postponement threw Jose off his game, or his prep.

A gracious invitation if ever I heard one. Unfortunately I'm only good one day per week and bad the other six. Sort of like playing Russian Roulette but with a seven-shooter. Did you hear abut the band of pygmies that played Russian Roulette with an automatic? They came up a little short.

I have been resurrected! Fittingly, I have come back to life in time for Easter. You see the Dastard was dead for about a month, then I was resurrected. No, I’m not a zombie, though my wife at times might disagree. In fact she lives to disagree with me, but that’s neither here nor there. Well, actually it’s more here than there because we don’t go there as often anymore. But getting back to my return, my vintage iMac (once you go Mac you never go back) gave up the ghost about a month ago. Partially anyway. The built-in monitor after beaming blue waves at me for nine years pulled Douglas MacArthur’s Old Soldier’s trick and just faded away (fittingly MacArthur starts with “Mac” - thought I’d throw that in - no charge). So there I was, staring into blackness, listening to my now-blind Mac humming away doing computer stuff I couldn’t see. It could’ve been looking at porn for all I know, but actually I think it was dialed into Twins Daily because I could “hear” laughter in the background, not panting. Wait a minute… maybe I have that backwards. Being old, frugal (some might say miserly) I spent a week checking around with the tech gurus about repairing the blinded beast. But for some odd reason whenever I mentioned the date of purchase, the gurus broke into laughter. Which was surprising because gurus are normally a humorless lot. Thwarted, I reluctantly dusted off the checkbook (they’re these pocket-sized things with blank paper checks in them that you fill out and sign and use to buy stuff) and purchased a new Mac, knowing this one will probably outlive me. So thinking I was reborn, I was sitting in my home office, pulling files from my old blind computer into my all-knowing new computer when I discovered the new computer was not all-knowing; it didn’t know all the secret passwords I had built into the old computer, and the old computer didn’t want to share them either. Alas and alack (actually I’ve never had alack, except maybe a lack of … well, maybe only since I turned seventy) I was thus cast adrift on the Password Sea, rudder…rudderless, mizzen mast… unmizzened, foc’sle… foced (let’s see if that gets past the Word Cops). End result: I couldn’t get into my TD account! And no matter how many times I clicked the “Lost Password” icon, and despite the TD claim I would be given a temporary password in less than ten minutes, I was ignored, shunned, banned, cut off, excommunicated (just continuing with the religious motif I started with) from TD! I wept, I cried, I rent my garments (that’s an old Biblical phrase, not a capitalist American phrase - it means I tore my clothes, not off, just ripped). Then, after two Schmidts I saw the Light, it said so right there on the bottle, I resurrected myself on TD as Dave the Dastardly II! Then once back among the living the TD folks advised me to contact Brock, which I did, and I am baaaack! Sorry Arnold. And thanks Brock! So what’s all this got to do with Twins baseball? Well, maybe not much. Except maybe the team we’re following this year has also been resurrected. Unlike the team we’d gone blind (shutting our eyes) to these past few years, this 2019 version offers hope to the faithful, perhaps even salvation. Anyway it’s good to be reincarnated, though I was sorely disappointed to learn TD is now like my closet: Threadbare. At least schedule-wise. I always look forward to a stimulating stream of wit, wisdom and repartee in TD’s Game Threads and I would surely miss it if no last-second volunteer writer steps up to the plate on Game Day. Perhaps we need to resurrect the schedule. Yo, Lazarus! You out there? We got a double-hinder today. Bad Man Jose takes the mound in the first game, he of the 2-1, 2.30 ERA 28K. His opponent? None other than Disastrous Dan Strailey, 1-1 but sporting a slump-busting 10.24 ERA and two measly strikeouts. Second game at 6:05 CDT features Martin “The Marauder” Perez 1-0, 5.02 ERA 17K versus Alex “Sweet Corn” Cobb 0-0 3.18 ERA 4K Lineups in flux, which I believe is just outside Toledo.

Sorry, but I missed that discussion. Been out of touch. Was having computer problems. Spent a week trying to find someone who could fix it. Then when I finally decided to go with a new computer I lost my internet connection for a week - storm related. Then after being offline for three weeks I discovered my old TD password went under with the old computer. Couldn't sign in. More time out of touch. Finally set up a new account under Dastardly II just a few days ago when I couldn't get access to my old account. If you look up "Frustrated" in the dictionary my picture is right there. I'm the guy holding the squirt gun loaded with Jameson in his mouth. Anyway, if that's all we need is a volunteer brief me on what I need to do and I'll give it a shot. Little play on words there.

I actually like ketchup on my hotdogs. And mustard, and chopped onions, and sweet relish. With a double chaser of antacids. I would also like to disclaim the lack of a schedule for Game Threads. Much too entertaining to leave open to chance.

I invited a hopeful significant other over for a "home-cooked" meal. I made Banquet frozen chicken, instant potatoes and gravy out of a packet. Worked like a charm. Been married going on 35 years and I haven't had to cook a meal since.

My computer died, and with it went my password to TD. I clicked on that link for a temp password about two dozen times and never heard a peep. So I created Dastardly II just to get back in. Once recognized, I sent a message to tech support but still no word regarding a password reset for Dastard I. Perhaps I have been banned?

Will the real Game Thread please stand up? Somebody has to get a handle on this.

Agree. What did Yogi say? "Half this game is 90% mental"?

"The models - they are confused." I always wondered why they walk so funny down that runway. Saw three flights of geese headed north this morning and a coon ripped down my wife's bird feeder last night before breaking into my grill and licking off last summer's grease. Counted ten deer in the backyard this morning, sleeping in. Based on those sure signs of spring I predict south winds, lots of antacids and hangovers for the Home Opener. Oh, and 55 degrees. I am one with nature.

Abfuhren der Schlagmann - my guess for "lead-off batsman", but might also be translated as "first man to empty his bowels". Which, depending how well Kepler does leading off, might apply more to the opposing pitcher than to Max the Magnificent.

Wait a minute... I'm confused. This report is from tomorrow's game? I don't suppose you also know the winning powerball numbers for the next drawing...

Isn't the winter off-season for slashing payroll and spring training for making player cuts? Sano's just a little ahead of the process. But then there's that "blowing up the team" thing that involves both slashing and cutting... I guess baseball is a violent game.

I think he needs to buy an "O".

Enjoyed the article! And the poke at "winning the offseason". I've often wondered why some treat free-agent signings as if it's a game and a season all by itself. Maybe major league baseball should set up a handicap system where the team that spends the most acquiring free agents gets an extra run added to each of their playoff games... if they reach the playoffs. Or two runs added per game if they make the World Series. Then this free agent signing thing will have a real effect on game outcomes. Until then, much ado about nothing.

I take it that neck tightness wasn't bilateral then.

“Byron is ready to turn a corner,” The problem with that corner thing is that for Twins players their path forward is shaped more like an octagon. In which case Buxton might have seven more corners to turn. Which is weirdly tantamount to the old "running in circles" adage.

Wait... What? Minnesota isn't perfect? The sun's almost shining, the temp is just a few degrees north of zero and the wind is howling out of the northwest. And it's only November. No way Minnesotans are fair weather fans... we wouldn't know what to do with any stinkin' fair weather.