Many thousands of feet above Peoria, Illinois, Rick Anderson came upon Tony Batista at the back of the Twins' charter.

"Um, T-Fat? You know we had a...pretty rough weekend. Why do have a such a happy look on your face?"

Batista raised his eyebrows. "With all due respect, Coach, I do not believe that my 'look' is either happy or unhappy. I am merely expressing the serenity that comes from the practice of mental discipline combined with a strict physical regimen."

Carlos Silva overheard the two of them talking. "Andy, are you asking T-Fat why he's taking all this so calmly?"

"Oh Carlos," said T-Fat, "it is worse than fruitless to become angry. Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment."

"Huh?"

By now a number of Twins had joined them, gathering close to hear Batista's words.

"But aren't you just a little mad?" asked Joe Mauer.

"Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one getting burned. So said my teacher."

"Your teacher?" squeaked Little Nicky Punto.

"When I went to Japan, I was volatile, consumed by my passions like many of you. Until, one day, returning to my hotel room after a what I used to call a 'rough night' at the plate, I tripped over a monk in the street."

"'I believe that you are angry and frustrated,' the monk said to me, rising, 'We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make our world.'

I couldn't understand what he was saying, either. 'All I know, old man,' I said, 'is that I made three strikeouts tonight. Can I get a hit every time just by thinking about it?'

'No, kohei, but you can learn to subdue yourself and thereby achieve inner peace.'

I'm ashamed to say that I kicked him in the nads...The next night, after another awful game, I was walking down the street seething in anger and I saw him again.

'Detach from your anger,' said the old man, limping slightly.

Again, I laughed. But the next night I had another horrible night and my team got swept by the evil Yokohama BitchStars. I was pulling my hair out as I walked back to the hotel that night and saw the same old man with the freaky eyes. By then I was ready to listen to anything.

'Okay, sir, tell me what you know,' I said.

''Weakness prevails over strength. Gentleness conquers. Become the calm and restful breeze that tames the violent sea.'

'Become the sea? Tame the breeze...huh?'

Oh, just come to my Shaolin temple and I'll show you the way.'"

"Sweet!" interrupted Lew Ford.

"Yes it was, sweet, Lew..." said T-Fat. "Sweet with the awakening of awareness."

"Huh?"

"Just watch my flashback."

"How am I to become a great baseball player when you've made me take a vow of poverty and live in this monastery?"
"Health, contentment, and trust are your greatest possessions...a fancy new stadium won't necessarily make you win--look at the Diamondbacks; plus, you could use losing an inch or two around the waist."

"Why must I trim this plant, Master?"
"It's a tree, kohei, and you must learn the patience of a man who sees a tree grow...a baseball season is very long."

"Why must I make flower arrangements, master?"
"Because some series are just never going to go your way and you have to take refuge in the world's simple beauty--even knowing that it is transitory. Plus, did you know that samurai used to practice flower arrangment? It's true, look it up."

Back on the Twins plane, the players listened wide-eyed.

"Wow," said Lew Ford, "did you have to fight some ninja or something, then?"

"No, I maimed the Emperor's son with my pruning sheers and had to flee for America. I then wandered from adventure to adventure."

"Oh!" squeeked Lew, "And like the guy said, 'if you have a problem, and no one else can help, then maybe you can hire...'"

"No, that's the A-Team."

Posted by Jeb at April 23, 2006 09:58 PM