Now THAT's more like it. Two dingers tonight, and the Good Doctor hit the best of all possible dingers, earning quite a bonus. That, plus the Boo appearance and 1 Boo K makes:
$ 3594 for hurricane relief.
Thank you to Matty Boom Batty and Dr. Morneau for hitting DINGERS FOR DOLLARS
Gee, let's see...
mmm....salami.
Readers/Field 25, Sooz/Stewie 14, Jeb/Lewwww 13, Batgirl/ Joe 12, Goober/Dr. Morneau 10.
Kansas City at Twins. Royals 10, Twins 6.
Quickly, quickly, all those Royals homers hypnotized Batgirl into intense sleepiness. Like sheep jumping over fences, like cows jumping over the moon, the ball kept sailing over the wall, one dinger, two dingers, three dingerzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Really, if you can't sleep some night, you should try it, just close your eyes and replay the 6th inning of this game—unless you are Travis Bowyer, in which case I wouldn't recommend it. If you are Travis Bowyer I recommend getting the memory chip removed. There, there. You won’t feel a thing. It's all going to be okay.
Anyway, as regular readers know, Batgirl played volleyball her sophomore year of high school, and if you have read closely you may have realized that her team was not very good. Batgirl's JV volleyball team made the Kansas City Royals look like the St. Louis Cardinals, the problem being that none of us knew how to play volleyball. We certainly never won a match, and Batgirl is unsure whether or not we even won a game, though Batgirl can say with some certainty that we did occasionally score points.
Probably.
Now, BatDad was a high-powered executive and rather busy with myriad better things to do than come to watch his daughter get hit on the head with volleyballs. And yet, BatDad came to every single one of Batgirl's volleyball games and he cheered his BatDad heart out, though for what BG cannot imagine. Batgirl is not sure, but she thinks this must have been even more painful than all the junior high choir concerts put together. (Though, actually for one high school concert, BatDad sat in front of the video camera, and when Batgirl's choir watched the video the next day, we got to watch BatDad nodding off through the whole thing. So I guess he didn't suffer that much.)
But the point is that he came, and Batgirl still doesn't know why, but she does know that what he experienced watching those games was something akin to what we're going through now as the Twins Quest for .500. There were moments of excitement, when Batgirl landed a serve or actually bumped the ball with her arms instead of her face, but mostly it was a bunch of pubescent girls in kneepads and polyester standing around while the ball dropped—plunk—right in the middle of the floor.
The point is, you and I, we are the only ones left. The lights are out and it is cold in here and I am so very, very hungry. Every once in awhile I think someone is coming to save me—I see a man with a blanket and some vegetarian Dome Dogs and he is smiling at me and he says, "Shh, shhh, it's going to be all right now, I am here to help you," but then I blink and he is gone. I do not care. I do not want to be saved—not yet. For these are my Twins and if they are going to spend the last games of the season getting hit in the nads with volleyballs, Batgirl will be there to watch every last bounce. For she is Batgirl, she is a Twins fan, and she needs serious and immediate psychological help.
Dingers for Dollars Update: Oh, sweet Jesus, some dingers! LNP and Li'l Rod both went long tonight. Those homers were the last two of our very generous matching grant, and including some LNP homer bonuses, that makes:
$ 3232 for hurricane relief.
Thank you to Little Nicky Punto and Li'l Rod for hitting DINGERS FOR DOLLARS.
Picture and headline courtesy of TwinsGoddess
Chewbacca throws out the first pitch at Fenway. A word of advice: Let the wookie win.
Kansas City at Twins. Twins 6, Royals 3.
We've discussed Crazy Pepe's Chug and Toss quite a bit this year—any number of our pitchers have engaged in some high-spirited bouts of the game this season. But Batgirl feels she has erred, for in her posts she seems to have glamorized CPC&T, and that is something one should never do. For, as we have seen tonight, there is a darker angle to Crazy Pepe's game, one which has caused it be banned in six countries.
Crazy Pepe's Chug and Toss, as regular readers know, involves chugging as much of your favorite beverage as you can and then throwing a ball ninety miles an hour wherever the heck you feel like it. If all goes well, before the night is done, you've beaned six or seven people.
But every once in awhile, a condition develops described in medical journals as "Crazy Pepe Rage," in which the body of the person who is chugging and tossing becomes slowly overwhelmed by the humor choler, which, according to medieval physicians, causes one to become peevish, irascible, and extremely pissed off. No one knows for sure what causes Crazy Pepe Rage—some say it is the chugging, some the tossing, some think it is something in the combination of chugging and tossing—but what is clear is that every once in a while in a game that celebrates fun and freedom and chugging and tossing, things go Way Too Far.
Like tonight. Here, J.C. Romero was having a perfectly respectable bout of CPC&T. There were no wild pitches or walks, unfortunately, which most really satisfying rounds have, but those two hit batsmen were something really gorgeous, something to be really proud of, something that would have made the venerable Crazy Pepe himself stand up and say Cheers!
But perhaps Gardy sensed something in J.C.'s posture, perhaps it was the wild look in his eyes, perhaps his skin took on the characteristic yellow tint of someone overcome with the humor so closely identified with bile. For right after the second hit batter, Gardy turned to Steve Liddle and said, "I think this round of Crazy Pepe's Chug and Toss is about to go Way Too Far." So Gardy went out to pull him and then, well, things got a little dark.
I don't want to go into too many details about what happened—let's just say J.C. started walking off the mound and as Gardy passed him he decided to make one more toss. As J.C. stormed into the dugout, Steve Liddle tried to stop him--I know you are suffering from Crazy Pepe Rage, he was going to say, but let's take it easy and do some deep meditative breathing like the Crazy Pepe Rage experts say. But JC would not have it. There was some finger pointing, there was some yelling, there were words said that would have made Crazy Pepe—really, a very mild-mannered chap—blush.
The thing that is very important about Crazy Pepe Rage is that you stop chugging and/or tossing immediately, because then things might go Way Way Too Far (see: tossing ball at Gardy) and Batgirl fears that when he went into the clubhouse JC Romero continued to chug/toss. We cannot be sure of course, but one thing is certain—as Kyle Lohse watched JC storm his way into the showers, he smiled to himself and muttered happily, "Who's Tantrum McSpazzyPants now?"
Well, for once, there were too many good performances. I mean, our offense was—well, an offense. We had six whole runs tonight, and those runs were scored by five different Twins. Which means five different Twins actually converted with runners on base. Which makes Batgirl a little giddy. So giddy, in fact, that she's going to use the chance to honor someone who probably could have been B.O.D. many times this season for the number of times he's saved our collective buttocks by just getting the job done—sometimes in fine style. For his twelfth win on the season, Batgirl is giving Jesse Crain his very first Boyfriend of the Day.
The Greater Minneapolis Crisis Nursery, which works to prevent child abuse and neglect, is running an online auction with items including Twins memorabilia and bobbleheads. Also, a Debbie Gibson karaoke machine.
Kansas City at Twins. Twins 3, Royals 1.
Perhaps I had a wicked childhood
Perhaps I had a miserable youth
But somewhere in my wicked, miserable past
There must have been a moment of truth
For here you are, standing there, pitching for me
Whether or not you should
So somewhere in my youth or childhood
I must have done something good
Nothing comes from nothing
Nothing ever could
So somewhere in my youth or childhood
I must have done something good.
--Maria Von Trapp
"Something Good"
The Sound of Music
I don't deserve him, and I know that. Every night when I go to sleep I wonder how I got to be so very lucky. There are so many girls out there who are lonely, who are going to bars and searching personal ads and using internet dating services, who spend their evenings desperately trying to meet that special someone because their pitching staffs don't have someone who is so brutally hot. There's no reason I've been so blessed—all I can do is shake my head in wonder that he is mine.
You know, though, who I feel really bad for? Not the ones who are still questing endlessly and tirelessly for their sweet baboo, but the ones who have settled, who have committed their lives and their hearts to some lesser pitching ace and have to deal with the feeling of terrible emptiness inside them when they gaze into his eyes and realize he is not Johan Santana.
Is your pitcher leading the majors in strikeouts? Is your pitcher tied for the ERA lead in the AL? Does your pitcher inspire terror in every opponent's heart? Does your pitcher wiggle his butt in that incredibly cute way before some pitches? I thought not.
(I don't know why Johan does that butt wiggle, but I think every pitcher should start doing it, because it could possibly be the source of all his power. I think when the Twins take BP the pitchers should be out taking BWP, or butt wiggling practice. I think Johan should stand in front of them all and lead them all in butt wiggling, first a slow motion demonstration, then he helps them all get the feeling for the butt wiggle by putting his hands on each pitcher's hip, one by one and moving them around slowly in a circle, round and round—wax on, wax off, wax on, wax off--Ah, yes, Mr. Vice President, you have it now! Then all together the pitchers stand and practice their Johan Santana Butt Wiggling with Johan himself studying each butt carefully and shouting helpful tips—right, left, right, left, come on Brad, let's put your hips into it! Crain you look like BatKitty #2! you're not having seizures there, Baker! stop doing the robot Boo! Come on, boys, imagine you are a beautiful woman putting on a red silk sheath dress and it—oopsie!—catches a little on your hips and you must wiggle, wiggle, wiggle your butt to inch it down. Here, let me show you!)
Oh, sorry.
The point is, I don’t even want to imagine what this season would have been like without Johan, but at the darkest moments he comes to us, like an angel with joy-filled eyes and a tendency to sit the bitches down, he strokes our hair and he whispers in our ears, Shhhh, shhhhh, I am here now, it is all going to be all right, for I am Johan Santana, and I would like to make love to you.
Er, I mean…
BatNotes:: Speaking of people Batgirl doesn't deserve, a huge BatSmooch to Count Chocula/the Veep/ Twitchy McXanax/the Nathanest of Joes for saving his 40th game tonight in fine style. However he was able to get 40 save situations this season BG cannot imagine.
Dingers for Dollars Update: No actual dingers tonight—in fact for the Coors Light Cold Blast DicknBert had to pick a bleepin' sac fly—but at least we finally got some dollars, thanks to the Boo appearance and Chocula save, three strikeouts, and a totally-trucking-hot bonus from bubblemint. With the help of another retroactive pledge, that makes:
$ 2643 for hurricane relief.
Also, thanks to everyone who purchased items from the BatStore from 9/6-9/21. Batgirl will make a $114 donation to the Red Cross. Thank you, all.
Now, come on, guys, let's hit some dingers.
Picture Courtesy of Eric
With mad props to the President and the Veep, BG was just so happy to get a run scored. For actually converting with runners on base in the 1st inning, you, Chairman Mauer, are the Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/Field 24, Sooz/Stewie 14, Jeb/Lewwww 13, Batgirl/ Joe 12, Goober/Dr. Morneau 9.
Kansas City at Twins. Royals 5, Twins 0.
It was an exhausted group of baseball players that settled into the bunk room at the Metrodome after getting back from Chicago Sunday night. The players barely talked as they brushed their teeth and washed their faces and got into their night time man dresses and sleeping hats.
"Man," said Jacque Jones, crawling into his bed. "I'm so beat. That was some series."
"We scored three runs in three days!" said Matt LeCroy with a tremendous yawn.
"Takes a lot out of you!" said Luis Rivas, stretching sleepily.
"You bet your sweet ass," mumbled Michael Cuddyer. "Good night everyone!"
"Good night!"
And all the players went into their beds, all lined up in a long row, cradled their little stuffed T.C. Bearsthem, and fell asleep. A gentle snoring sound filled the room as chests rose up and down in perfect harmony.
The players, with nothing at all to trouble them, slept hard, and so no one noticed at first when the room filled with an eerie light, nor did anyone stir when the door opened and an extremely large man flew in on a giant potato with the number 14 carved on the side. The man surveyed the sleeping bunch, shook his head, and waved his magic wand.
"WAKE UP!" he shouted. "WAKE UP YOU LOSERS!"
One by one, the Twins sat up in the beds, eyes wide, clutching their TC Bears close to them.
"Who is it?" shouted Bret Abernathy.
"I'm scared!" squeaked Little Nicky Punto.
"Why," said Jacque Jones. "It's Kent Hrbek on his magic potato!"
"Damn skippy," said Hrbek. "I am Kent Hrbek and I am visiting from the Great Beyond."
"Heaven?" gasped Lew Ford.
"No, Bloomington." He held his hands out grandly. "Twins players, I have come because Twins Territory is in grave danger. A great evil threatens to overcome us, and you are the only ones who can stop it. My boys, you must go on a quest. The fate of all of Twins Territory is in your hands.
"A quest?" exclaimed Li'l Rod.
"Sweet!" shouted Lew. "Mordor, here I come!"
"Am I going to get eaten?" asked Little Nicky Punto.
"Probably," said Kent Hrbek. "But that doesn't matter. Some times great struggle requires great sacrifice. My boys, I am giving you a mission. I have come here tonight to ask you to Quest for .500."
As one, every player in the room gasped.
" I know! I know!" said Hrbek. "The journey is going to be long and hard and I don't know if everyone will survive it. You will struggle mightily against great odds and even against the Royals. You will journey into the darkest night of your souls. Also…I'm afraid you're going to have to score some runs."
"What?" exclaimed LeCroy.
"Impossible!" said Rivas.
"Nothing is impossible for a team of professional baseball players."
The players looked at each other blankly.
Hrbek sighed. "Okay, how about…Nothing is impossible when you have Johan Santana. Now, go, my children. You are in a battle for your very souls, or at least your dignity. The way will be dark and cold and there will be much to fear, but if you stick together, you will see the light of day again. Go and score runs and catch the ball and fight against adversity and learn something about yourselves and come out stronger for the journey, secure in the knowledge that you've saved Twins fans from terrible tomrent. You'll be heroes! Are you with me?"
"YEAH!" shouted Jason Bartlett.
"YEAH!" shouted Justin Morneau.
"SI!" shouted Juan Castro.
"Now!" shouted Hrbek, "Let's go out there and kick some Kansas City heinie!"
Full of the fire of hope and passion, the players stormed out onto the field and proceeded to strike out, ground out, and pop out their way to another shut out loss. Afterwards, they filed back into the bunk room and plopped on their beds and snuggled their bears close to them.
"Well, he said the way would be hard," said Joe Mauer.
"He said there would be obstacles," agreed Justin Morneau.
"He said sometimes we would doubt ourselves," nodded Jacque Jones.
"What's important," said Matt LeCroy, "is not that we lost, but that we live on to fight another day."
"That's right!" exclaimed Michael Cuddyer.
"Tomorrow!" cheered Michael Ryan.
"Huzzah!" squealed Jason Tyner.
Just then, Lew Ford came running into the room carrying a sheet of paper. He hopped up on the bed and waved the paper around excitedly.
"Hey, guys!" he shouted.
"What?"
"We did it!" he said, pointing to the paper excitedly.
"We did what?"
"Look!" he said, holding up what appeared to be a box score. "We did it...we made .500!" With a hoot, Lew threw the paper up in the air and yelped, "Take THAT Sauron you one-eyed bastard!"
In the corner of the room, Brad Radke and Johan Santana looked at each other.
"Should we tell him?" whispered Radke.
"Naw," said Johan. "He looks so happy."
Twins at Chicago. Weekend Round-up.
Friday. Bitch Sox 3, Twins 1.
Saturday. Bitch Sox 8, Twins 1.
Sunday. Bitch Sox 4, Twins 1.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
--W.B. Yeats
What Willie is saying here is that that really, truly sucked. It would have sucked apocalyptically if we weren't well past the End Times now. The thing is, after the apocalypse hits, you'd think all the sucking would stop. You'd think that after everything's already gone down, after the moon turns to blood and the seas boil and your kitties are stricken with incurable kitty blackheads, and you've gone through the whole oh-the-world-is-ending-that-wasn't-in-my-plans-"I-would-have-liked-to-have-seen-Montana" thing, there's not really anything else anyone can do to you. You would be wrong.
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
-T.S. Eliot
I don't know what I was expecting. Why I thought things would be different now. Why I thought when the Twins couldn't be motivated by a Quest for the Postseason or a Quest for Batgirl's Sanity that they would suddenly really get themselves together for a Quest for .500
I had recently suggested that the Sucking Force operating on the Bitch Sox was greater than the one operating on us. That is not true. Math has never been Batgirl's strong suit. I think I've got it worked out into a simple equation. Will may need to help me out here, but I think I'm correct:
If "x" is the Twins Sucking Force and "y" is the Bitch Sox Sucking Force and "K" is a Johan Santana start, then you get: x+K < y
x-K though? That gets you this weekend.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I hit a pop fly
And that has made all the difference.
-R. Frost
I guess the point is, really, Batgirl gives and she gives, and she does not complain, at least some days, at least a couple of them, there must have been a game or two in there where Batgirl has not complained about all her relentless giving. And she doesn't ask for much—or at least everything she's asked for (The division championship, the wildcard, four runs a game, victory for El Presidente, some shred of dignity, a reason to live) has been utterly and totally rejected. Which is totally fine, really, it's totally fine, and BG's had this twitching disorder her whole life, really. But in the last few games of the season, Batgirl does have a request, a very simple one, really, best summed up in an excerpt from "September, 2005:"
I would like very much if we hit
Some bleepin' blargin' dingers.
--W.H. Auden
Twins at Chicago. Twins 4, Bitch Sox 1. (11 innings)
We're friends, now, aren't we? You and I? Over these last two seasons, haven't we really built something together? Some kind of trust, some kind of affection. I mean, if Batgirl were to have a problem, well, you'd be there for her, wouldn't you?
Because, you see...I have to tell you that all is not well in the BatHousehold.
Perhaps you've sensed it. Something a little off with Batgirl. As if she's not quite focused on her solemn duties, as if something is distracting her. And you haven't wanted to say anything, you haven't wanted to be rude. And Batgirl appreciates that, she does. But let there be no secrets between us. Really, after all this time, how could there be? I should have told you from the beginning.
It's just that, well, BatKitty #2 has a…problem.
Now, before we go any further, I must tell you that not long after we liberated a young BatKitty #2 from the Humane Society, back when he was just a BatKitten, we took him to the vet to get his schnoobers removed. Why, I still remember the very day! The snow covered the earth like a white blanket. I wore red, the vet wore blue! What a lark! What a plunge!
Now, Batgirl has a lot of stuffed animals, including a rather corpulent stuffed bear by name of Pudge. About a year after he was removed of his schnoobers, BatKitty #2 developed a great affection for said stuffed bear and could often be found kneading that bear's pudgy belly, as cats do. It's a very cute behavior, probably stemming from trying to get milk from their momma's as babies. And, well, we thought it was adorable. "Look! BatKitty #2 is petting Pudgie!" But then, one day, during a particularly enthusiastic round of petting, we noticed his hips were really getting into the kneading action, really, they were moving back and forth quite a bit, almost as if they were gyrating…
Well, suffice to say we saw something we never wanted to see. And soon BatKitty #2 proved himself to have a great, well, affection for, not just that stuffed animal, but all stuffed animals. He would come into Batgirl's bedroom to find them all on the bed, resting so innocently, and he would put on his silk BatKitty bathrobe and sidle up to them and put on some Barry White and say, "How YOU doin'?"
Soon, we learned to put the stuffed animals in unhumpable places, and BatKitty #2 forgot about his weird fetish. But recently BatKitties #2 and #3 were wrestling and it seemed to give him some ideas and those hips started gyrating and, well, we saw something we never wanted to see again.
We've had several long talks with the BatKitties about inappropriate touching and about our strict no-humping policy, but for some reason it just hasn't taken. And the thing is, BatKitty #2 doesn't even know what he's doing—he doesn't have the mechanisms down correctly, it's just this instinct takes over sometimes at the sight of some really hot stuffed animal or, unfortunately, his adopted sister. If he were actually trying to procreate, let's just say he would be extremely unsuccessful.
The point is, BatKitty #2's attempts at making sweet love to both Pudgie the Stuffed Bear and BatKitty #3 remind me a lot of the Twins offense. There's a lot of yowling, a lot of flailing about, and absolutely no contact. It's all harmless, except for the nausea and the psychological scars.
Poor Johan Santana will probably be kept from his second consecutive Cy Young award by the sheer incompetence of our hitters, who do not have the excuse that their schnoobers were removed at a tender age. If only the voters had been watching our season they'd know what an absolute miracle it is he's won 14. He should get the Cy Young, the MVP, and quite possibly the Purple Heart.
I don't really know how we won tonight—it can only be that whatever tremendous sucking force has been dragging us down all season, the one currently operating on the Bitch Sox is even more powerful. There's a giant sucking sound coming from the South Side, and as much as we really tried to lose the game tonight, it just didn't happen. And then something strange happened—we tried to win. It was as if some atavistic good-baseball-team instinct kicked in and we actually started playing like a team with schnoobers. After a couple days to think about what he did, Lew Ford comes in and gets all sparkpluggy again and starts scooting around the basepaths, Big Leroy earns a month of free Krispy Kremes with an RBI single to give the Twins the lead, and Jacque Jones—who really put the offensive in offense in Monday's 7-6 loss—drives the stake into the quivering heart of the Bitch Sox with a two-run double. That's my team! Those are my boys! Lark! Plunge!
We saw in the last two days that the instinct is there, deep within the Twins--yes, these are bats, these are balls, these are bases, this is what we do with them. The thing is, no matter how he tries, BatKitty #2 is never going to score again--but maybe, just maybe, the Twins can.
****
Dingers for Dollars Update: Li'l Sweetcheeks went yard today, giving him the DFD tie with Cuddles at 3 a piece, plus we have individual pledges for Boo and Chocula, not to mention a thanks-for-beating-the-Bitch-Sox bonus from Tribe Scribe, which makes $304 on the day and:
$2592 for hurricane relief.
Thanks to Jacque Jones for hitting a DINGER FOR DOLLARS.
Dear Li'l Sweetcheeks,
When you hit that double in the eleventh to give the Twins a 4-1 lead, all the Bitch Sox fans swarmed out of U.S. Bitchular Park. That was fun. That, and your solo shot to tie it up gives you, Jacque Jones, the Boyfriend of the Day.
Love,
Batgirl
Twins at Oakland. Series Round-Up.
Monday, A's 7, Twins 6.
Tuesday, A's 8, Twins 3.
Wednesday, Twins 10, A's 4.
After having been blown thousands of miles off course, Twins flight 005 crash landed on an uncharted tropical island. Many souls were lost in the crash, and more quickly afterwards—poor Luis Rivas survived but got too close to the plane's engine and fell victim to its tremendous sucking force.
Still, there were some survivors—dazed, mentally disturbed, emotionally crippled, they tried to absorb the horrificness of the disaster they had experienced. For a few days, the Twins passengers thought they might be rescued. They tried to establish a radio signal, they lit a signal fire, they swept the Bitch Sox. But soon it became apparent that no one was coming to help them; that they were stranded and must deal with this flaming, twisted, pathetic wreckage on their own.
You'd think those were troubles enough, but on their first night the castaways were awakened from their slumber by an earth-shattering pounding noise. The rhythm was of footsteps, but the noise, it was too loud, no creature could possibly be that large. The ground shook as the terrible sound reverberated through the island--Boom! Boom! Boom!
"Ack!" screamed Joe Mays, "it's Cleveland!"
But despite all the booms, it wasn't Cleveland. The castaways stared in wide-eyed terror at the direction of the footsteps, watching as the very trees seemed to bow to the creature's might.
"It's a monster," said Terry Tiffee.
"We're all going to die!" screamed Jason Bartlett.
"I think the island is angry at us," said Johan Santana.
"I think that might be Gardy," said Lew Ford.
"Fiddlesticks!" squeaked Little Nicky Punto. "I am not afraid of any monster!" And he grabbed one of Terry Mulholland's cuticle-trimming knives and started to run headlong into the forest, hesitated, and then started running again. The last anyone heard from him was a far-off scream, followed by a very loud crunching noise, then a satisfied belch.
"Well, that was predictable," said Brad Radke.
"Even though he was the smallest of us, he had the biggest heart," said Jacque Jones.
So the stranded Twins began slowly to adjust to life on the island. Some dreamed of escape and even sold their Golden Valley homes, some became lost to rage and smashed up the clubhouse, while others tried to make do by being really hot and pitching awesomely.
"I think this island is blessed," said Johan Santana. "I think we were sent here for a reason."
"What are you talking about, Johan?" asked Dr. Morneau, skeptically.
"I think the island has something to teach us all. I think the island called us. I think this is a magical place where we will learn about ourselves and about sucking and come out stronger for it."
"I think you're full of crap," said Dr. Morneau.
"You'll see," said Johan. "It's fate."
One day, a man appeared on the island. He said he was from Seattle and he just needed a change of scenery. The players trusted him because he had been an All-Star and he looked strangely hot as a chick, but then he tried to kidnap Scott Baker and was released.
After a while, some of the castaways got sick and tired of doing nothing so they tried to build a raft. Unfortunately, they made the body of the raft out of some bats saved from the plane wreckage, but the raft was doomed because those bats couldn't hit water.
The castaways began to lose hope, and to unravel. They let grounders go under their gloves, failed to run out squib bunts, and missed the cut-off man again and again and again and again and again.
Then, Johan made a startling discovery. Buried underneath a pile of brush he found a mysterious hatch in the ground. Every day, he went to dig out the hatch, sometimes he dug out five or six feet a day, sometimes he dug out as many as thirteen, and then when he got tired he called Joe Nathan to dig out three more feet. When he had it dug out, he called Michael Cuddyer to get his boom boom stick to blast the hatch open. And then he called the players together to look in the hatch. It was an endless tunnel that seemed to lead only to darkness.
"It's dark down there," said Brad Radke.
"But I think I see something," said Johan.
"I don't know. I'm frightened."
"But, look there," said Johan. "Squint your eyes together. Don’t you see it?"
"What?" said Radke. "I don't see anything."
"I do," said Johan. "I look down the long dark tunnel of the hatch and I see hope."
"You do?"
"Yes," said Johan. "It's all we have."
"I don't know," said Radke, squinting. "I don't see it, and even if I did..." He shook his head. "You wouldn't, by any chance, see a DH down there, too, would you?"
Tune in next season to find out.
* * *
Dingers for Dollars Update: One thing about Cuddles, he loves him the charity. That's three homers for him since we started DFD. Today, with the matching grant and the Cuddy individual pledges, he was good for $298, plus a LeCroy double bonus and a LeCroy infield single bonus from Ovie, plus pledges for a Boo appearance and two Boo strikeouts making:
$2288 for hurricane relief.
Normally, with only one TBB playing, BG would set the boyfriend status to honorary, but there's nothing honorary about getting 4 RBIs and singlehandedly accomplishing Batgirl's Plan For Ultimate Victory, and that makes DJ Cuddles Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/Field 23, Sooz/Stewie 14, Jeb/Lewwww 13, Batgirl/ Joe 11, Goober/Dr. Morneau 9.
Dear Batgirl,
I'm really bummin' out with only two games left in my season ticket package, and I was wondering what advise you have in preventing post-season (or lack-there-of) depression. What do you do in the off-season? Are there support groups for fans such as myself? I know you'll have the answers to these and all questions Twins.
Signed,
October Blues
Dear Ms. Blues,
It is true. The only thing worse than living through this season will be enduring the off-season. All we will want out of life is to watch a good 2-1 Twins loss. We will make our various kitties and puppies pop-up bunts and miss the cut-off guy, just to have a taste for the season again.
But that doesn't answer your question. During the offseason, Batgirl likes to stay so drunk she is obvlious to her surroundings until pitchers and catchers report.
Sincerely,
BG
Dear readers,
Help Ms. Blues. What do you do? How are you going to survive the off-season?
Love,
BG
Dingers for Dollars! Li'l Sweetcheeks went long today for his second dinger of the Dingers for Dollars program. So far, Jacque, the Doctor, and Cuddles have all hit two dingers for hurricane aid, and BG thinks it's time for the rest of the players to step up to the plate. Thanks to Li'l Sweetcheeks, we now have: $1961 TOTAL
Please note:Today is the last day for the proceeds of items purchased in the BatStore to go to hurricane relief. Click on the shirt to the left to visit the BatStore.
Due to intense BatSleepiness and the whole West Coast game thing, BG won't be doing game recaps until Wednesday when she'll do a series round-up. In the spirit of International Talk Like a Pirate Day, though, she would like to ask her readers to submit Pirate thoughts and dialogue for the players during the game. BG humbly submits the following:
Dingers for Dollars Update: Well, just as Batgirl was beginning to despair for dingers, the Doctor hit the ball many many moose antlers out of the park. Then, since when the Doctor does it so must Cuddles, our DJ went yard, too. At $138 per homer, plus the matching grant, that's $552. With $40 of Cuddles and Doctor individual bonuses, that makes $592 on the day and:
$1655 for hurricane relief.
Thanks to everyone who pledged for their commitment to Twins Dingers.
The Twins had their annual rookie hazing after Sunday's game, and Batling Candace was there to take pictures.
Jason Bartlett and Terry Tiffee think Scott Baker looks adorable in this vintage sailor suit. Permission to come aboard!
His sinker plunges and so does his neckline! Jesse Crain is pretty in pink.
Li'l Rod is all smiles in his glam ensemble, while behind him Liriano shows that the perfect hat can transform any outfit from drab to fab.
Travis Bowyer shows that it's fine to wear mini-skirts over 95-MPH.
Chicago at Twins. Weekend Round-Up.
Friday. Bitch Sox 2, Twins 1. (10 innings)
Saturday. Twins 5, Bitch Sox 0.
Sunday. Bitch Sox 2, Twins 1.
Okay. Listen. If we're not going to score any runs, which apparently, despite Batgirl's very simple Plan For Ultimate Victory, we're not, what we need to do is flash some leather. And by flash some leather, I don't mean letting balls go through our legs. Poor LNP, Lew Fordwalker, and Jesse Crain had games they'd like deleted from their memory chips this weekend—which is too bad, because the Twins made some mad hot plays this series. To celebrate the good and encourage the players to keep reaching for those stars, Team Batgirl is presenting the weekend's best plays, in Legovision. First, the honorable mentions:
Little Nicky Punto shows off his vertical to catch a Carl Everett line drive!
Jason Tyner runs down the ball in center!
Jason Bartlett makes a diving stop!
Stewie catches the ball, then crashes into the wall!
A tumbling Jacque Jones grab!
And now Team Batgirl is proud to present Batgirl's Play of the Weekend.
Johan Santana pitches to Pablo Ozuna. ("I have news for you. I am not right handed.")
Ozuna hits a tapper down the first base line.
With his superhuman reflexes, Johan dives for the ball--
--then springs for Ozuna!
Ohhhh, Pabloooo, I am coming for you!
Please to sit down. Thank you. Good-bye.
Congratulations to Johan Santana for Batgirl's Play of the Weekend. Now, please, Mr. President, never do that again.
Dingers for Dollars update: No dingers today, alas, but there's a retroactive pledge from infield, a thanks-for-beating-the-Bitch Sox-on-Sat from TribeScribe, and today $5 for a Boo appearance, and RD pledged a dollar per point differential on the Vikings loss plus a $10 Bears win bonus, so that makes $44 on the day and $1063 TOTAL for hurricane relief.
Now, let's hit some more dingers. Come on guys, it's for charity.
Thanks to DhruvK for the awesome comic!
This is a very, very difficult decision. The President of the United States of Batgirl was hot with a capital K. Thirteen strikeouts and two hits through 8 innings, then two more in the ninth. And if he had gotten the complete game shutout, BG would give it to him without question. But Batgirl really, really, really likes to encourage Dr. Morneau to hit homers, because it does make the team so very much better when he does. Today's two run dinger put the Twins on the board, gave them the lead, and ended up being the winning run. So, after much agony and with a huge deep soulful B.O.D.S.H.C. kiss, Batgirl is giving Dr. Morneau the Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/Field 22, Sooz/Stewie 14, Jeb/Lewwww 13, Batgirl/ Joe 11, Goober/Dr. Morneau 9.
It's been a very good day on DINGERS FOR DOLLARS. Batgirl received a very exciting DINGER MATCHING GRANT for the first 10 dingers, up to $1000, including yesterday's. Thank you so much to that anonymous donor for his generosity and commitment to TWINS DINGERS.
Today, Dr. Morneau decided to heal what ailed the Twins with a two-run dinger, then DJ Cuddles got jiggy with a solo dinger in the 7th. With new pledges, we are now up to $133 per dinger. That's $266, then $532 with the matching grant.
As for pledges for individual achivements, Skorch, Olbiemn, and wildchild have made $14 worth of extra pledges for Doctor Dingers, and JustBeth, k-bro, mp, and DCTwinsFan add $22 per DJ Cuddles Dinger, PLUS ndtf pledged $1 per El Presidente strike-out, PLUS Twins Goddess pledged $5 for any El Presidente start in which he doesn't give up a homer, PLUS $5 from bubblemint for the Nathan save (and she just added a $5 bonus because he was so HOT), PLUS $9 from Donnalove for the three Nathanest strikeouts, PLUS Kurtis pledged $5 per strikeout today, and k-bro adds $20 for the almost-complete game shut out, which makes $705 for the day and:
$981 so far for hurricane relief.
Thank you so much to all who pledged and to Dr. Morneau and DJ Cuddles for hitting DINGERS FOR DOLLARS
(If you would like to add your per dinger pledge, please let Batgirl know whether you will be pledging for games for now on, or whether your per dinger pledge is retroactive for the entire DINGERS FOR DOLLARS period. Without specification, BG will assume the latter, because it will be much easier on the BatAccounting.)
Today, Li'l Sweetcheeks hit a homer. That's $113 for hurricane relief, plus $5 for a Rincon appearance makes $118. Boo also made an appearance on Thursday so so far that's $123. Thanks to everyone for pledging, and to Jacque Jones for hitting a DINGER FOR DOLLARS
The Strib is filled with talk of trading Torii Hunter, the Twins de facto captain, today:
Jim Souhan:Don't Even Think About It
A few months ago, Batgirl thought the idea of trading Torii was ludicrous; he's the team's marquee player. During the clubhouse celebration after the Twins clinched last year, Terry Ryan spent most of it clenching Torii to him and whispering to him lovingly--it wasn't hard to figure out his message: You're my guy. They use him to market the team and he puts butts in seats and gets the Twins on Baseball Tonight. It doesn't seem so ludicrous now; he's been gone for two months and the team is grimly plodding along without him, there's clearly been conflict between Torii and some of the new players, and it seems he might be miserable next year if they do lose JJ.
Nonethless, BG says trading Torii would be asinine. Yes, she's biased--Torii touched Batgirl in a way she'd never been touched before. But after a dismal and discouraging year, losing the grinning, shiny-domed face of the team would be a kick in the stomach, a move entirely based on payroll, another sign that Pohlad cares nothing for the team itself and only for his pocketbook--and Batgirl, for one, would be livid and would lose some of her enthusiasm for the team. Unless we can trade Torii for David Ortiz, there's no way we could make up for what we've lost--are there really two hitters at 5 million a piece that are going to both fill Torii's vacuum and help make the team better on top of that? We need to add RBIs, and a lot of them. We don't need to lose another 75-RBI guy (and on the Twins, that's a lot). We need a few veterans on this team--losing Koskie, Batgirl thinks, was the card that caused our delicate house to collapse. We need guys that leap over walls to make catches. As Souhan says--there are some things more important than math, whether it be .OPS or that all-consuming all-important payroll. Baseball isn't just numbers, it's an emotional game--the Tigers, for instance, have plenty of hitters but no team, and they will languish under .500 again.
We need hitters, that is clear, and we're going to have to make some sacrifices. But this one doesn't make sense, either practically or, more important, symbolically.
Trade Hunter and you'll have one discouraged, disheartened Batgirl.
Please discuss, but remember this is an emotional issue and please stay respectful.
I know it's going to terribly disappoint everyone, but BG had some trouble getting the girls together for the exciting final round of MINNESOTA TWINS: HOTTEST CHICK, plus Justina had a huge diva fit about the lighting. Fear not! The final round will come soon!
But for now, Batgirl has another question that's burns in her soul. As we look to the postseason, BG has no idea for whom to root and she is turning to, you, gentle reader, for guidance. Tell me, my dears, where do your allegiances lie?
Lew Fordwalker continues to use the force over women's hearts, with Dr. Love close behind.
Remember, from now 'til Sept 21, Batgirl will be donating all the proceedes from the BatStore to hurricane relief. (We've raised $90 so far--THANK YOU to everyone who ordered!) Click on the shirt to the left to visit the BatStore!
(If you're interested in volunteering at the Minnesota Assistance Center for Katrina Victims, please click below to read more.)
Here is the info for the Minnesota Assistance Center for Katrina Victims:
Volunteers are needed to assist with welcoming and other admin duties at
the Minnesota Assistance Center over the next couple of weeks. The
center will be open starting today Thursday, Sept 15 - Sept 30. M-Sat
9AM - 5PM, Sunday 1-5. Volunteers are needed for the following shifts
(or any time they are available):
M-Sat 8AM-Noon, 1-4, 4-8 (Sat 9/17 is the only Sat that the center will
be open).
Sun 1-5
Address: 1410 Energy Park Drive St, Paul, MN (Suite 9&10)
The contact is Emogene Koeller and she
can be reached at the following #'s (612) 627-9432 (home) or (612)
990-3392 (cell).
A message from Batling Laurel:
Team Batgirl and Batlings,
Richard and Janice Krahn
Invite you to join the celebration
and root, root, root for the home team
as their daughter
Laurel Ann Krahn marries
Kevin Glen Austin
son of Robert and Gloria Austin
on Saturday, September seventeenth
Two thousand and five
At ten o'clock in the morning
Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome
34 Kirby Puckett Place
Minneapolis, Minnesota
If you're there on Saturday for the game (at 11am!), please stop by section 228, rows 7-10, to say hi to the blushing bride.
Twins at Detroit. Tigers 4, Twins 2.
"In the room the women come and go
Talking of Francisco Liriano."
--The Love Song of J. Terence Mulholland
No, no, we are supposed to score the four runs. Silly. Also, we are supposed to hit the homers, not the opponents. Here we've got $97 per dinger pledged in Batgirl's exciting Dingers for Dollars hurricane fund drive, and we are totally one hundred percent dingerless. After the three dingers yesterday, BG must admit she's going through major withdrawal. And she's not the only one. At about three o'clock this afternoon, Batkitty #2 snuck outside, crawled up on top of the batroof and began to sing:
Where have all the dingers gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the dingers gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the dingers gone?
Twins have grounded out every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Batkitty #2 is a little melodramatic, you see, but we don't hold it against him, except when we have to call the firefighters to get him off the batroof. After the vagaries of this season, they're used to it; in fact on Sunday night after the Cleveland loss, they came over on their own. Which was awfully nice of them.
See, BK #2 was upset that the Twins had once again to make Sean Douglass look like someone who doesn't have –ass at the end of his name, but he has trouble focusing on the positive, which is:
DID YOU SEE LIRIANO?
Well, actually, the game wasn't televised here, so:
DID YOU HEAR LIRIANO?
Santana 2: Electric Boogaloo* struck out the side in the second inning, each one of them swinging. Whiff! Whiff! Whiff! went the Tigers, their pathetic attempts at contact causing the heavens to rend open and tears of laughter to pour down from the gods above.
Ha! Ha!
Oops.
The umps called a delay of game, and Boogaloo came back a little rusty, giving up a four pitch walk and his second dinger (though this one, unlike his first of the year, didn't actually take orbit, which was sort of nice).
No matter. (Well, it wouldn't have been if the Twins had followed BG's simple plan for victory.) The kid then regained his composure and pitched the minimum through the next two and a half innings and all-in-all made Batgirl rather tingly. (BG wasn't the only one. Li'l-Rod was apparently so dazzled that when he came up in the ninth with one on and the Twins down by two, he bunted. Ha! Ha! Oops!)
At the end of the day, Liriano ended up with two runs, and six strikeouts over five complete innings—and no run support. And after the game, the Twins starting pitchers came up to him in their full body casts and wheelchair and, sighing heavily, slapped him on the back and said, "Welcome to the Twins, kid."
Indeed.
*Thanks to Torhu for the nickname
Batgirl,
With the Twins casket getting the final nail pounded into it over the weekend I say we, as loyal Twins fans as well as fans of great baseball and its players, pull together and root for the man with the rocket arm. Roger Clemens is going to pitch tonight after losing the most important woman in his life, his mother, earlier this morning. With the Astros down a game and a half, maybe all they need is some love from up north. And I'll tell you what, no matter what, tonight Roger Clemens will be my "nonsexual man crush of the day." I hope the site has something to honor this giant of a man.
Sincerely,
Up North
Twins at Tigers. Twins 9, Tigers 3.
For an explanation of DINGERS FOR DOLLARS, please scroll down to the bottom of this entry.
Or nine runs is fine, too.
Apparently, what the Twins needed was a little motivation. Now, for most teams, things like ‘the division championship’ and ‘postseason play’ and ‘dignity’ and ‘keeping Batgirl off the sauce’ would be motivation enough to score a bunch of runs, but as we all know, the Twins are not most teams.
Tonight, Fox Sports Network decided to donate $1000 for each home run hit in the game to the Red Cross. Now, if the whole network of Fox Sports stations were not doing the same promotion, Batgirl would be a little suspicious, for offering money for every home run the Twins hit in a given night is rather like offering to donate ten bucks for every person who attends a Devil Rays game.
Or so Batgirl thought. But tonight, the Twins hit three grade ‘A’ numero uno one hundred percent real extra juicy home runs. Yes, three. According to DicknBert, the Twins have not hit three home runs since a game against Milwaukee in late June, though whether they meant three home runs in the same game or three home runs total was unclear.
I’m not sure the team’s been very clear on the concept of the homer, but it’s really not that hard once you grasp the fundamental truth about it—and I know this is hard, but bear with me—when you hit a dinger, you are guaranteed to score a run. Like tonight. Matt LeCroy came up with the Twins down 1-0 while DicknBert were talking about the Doctor’s wish to gain ten pounds in the offseason, and just as DickorBert said, “He’s going to be a big boy,” Big Boy himself went long. And tied the game. Just like that. Easy, breezy, beautiful, Big LeCroy. And while the Twins have been shut out at least 40 times this season, they have never been shut out when they’ve hit a homer.
Now, here’s the other thing. There’s a whole other dimension to the home run thing, and that is: if you hit a homer with someone on base you score both yourself and the person on base. So if there’s a runner on, as there was for Bart in the eighth, you score two runs. And if there are two runners on, as there was for Luis “Babe” Rivas in the third, you score three runs.
We’ve all been on and on about the Twins inability to do the little things right this year, but BG’s feeling is if the boys managed to hit a few more dingers, a failure to advance to runner wouldn’t mean as much. And also, since we’re going to adopt Batgirl’s Happy Kitten Plan For Ultimate Victory, scoring four runs a game is a lot easier if you can hit some dingers.
So, anyway, apparently the Twins hit homers best for charity. So, for the rest of the season, for every homer the Twins hit, Batgirl will donate $1000—no, wait—Batgirl will donate FIVE DOLLARS to hurricane relief.
It’s almost the same thing.
Who’s with Batgirl? Make your pledges below, one dollar to one million dollars. BG will keep track all month and at the end of the year she'll post some options for giving. It's all right if you can't, of course, you can talk about homers or Travis Bowyer or Babe Rivas, too.
This is kind of sentimental of the B.O.D.S.H.C. Frankly, she just likes to see guys succeed and is sad for them when they don't. This is certainly Luis Rivas' last tour as a Twin, and he managed to say good-bye by accomplishing something the Twins (other than Lew Fordwalker) have done very few times this year--hitting a three run homer. And that, Luis Rivas, gives you the Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/Field 22, Sooz/Stewie 14, Jeb/Lewwww 13, Batgirl/ Joe 11, Goober/Dr. Morneau 8.
From the PiPress
Before many Twins home games, the clubhouse blares with sounds of reggaeton, rap with a Latin twist. But many of the Twins listen to their own music collections on iPods, the personal audio players that have become hugely popular in recent years."If you watch before the game, there will be 15 guys in here with iPods on," catcher Mike Redmond said. "I guess that's the new trend"...
..."I've got mostly country music. I've got some rap. I've got some Top 40 stuff. I like pretty much anything country. Tim McGraw. I've got Jessica Simpson. I've got Tupac. I like a lot of different stuff. But if I was going to buy a CD or something, it'd probably be a country CD."
Twins at Detroit. Twins 2, Tigers 1
Now, really, was that so hard?
Look guys, let’s make a deal for next year. You can leave as many guys on base as you want. Really. BG won’t even blink an eye. You can leave everyone in the dugout on base, Wayne Hattaway, too, you can strand Batgirl and the Batkitties Three. You can strand the whole U.S. freakin’ army on base—heck, take the Navy, too. It’s all good. BG cares not, as long as you score more runs than the other team.
This isn’t really that difficult. Not when the pitching staff gives up 2 runs a game (when they’re not on strike that is). Not when Kyle Lohse, who has shed his Tantrum McSpazzypants persona and is very, very sorry, shows us that we’ll miss him if he’s gone next year. (Of his clubhouse-smashing endeavors, Lohse would say regretfully, “I just wanted the bats to hit something!”)
My dear Twins, you can put runners on all day, we know you can. Today, for instance, you had thirteen hits, three walks—one of them intentional—and a hit by pitch. That makes by Batgirl’s California math eighteen baserunners, of which you scored two. Which, again, is totally, one hundred percent fine with Batgirl because you won. And two runs off 13 hits, that’s respectable, kind of. (I mean, jeez, could you imagine getting 13 hits and not getting any runs? How pathetic would that be?) But the point is, under Batgirl’s Happy Kitten Plan For Ultimate Triumph you can put runners on all day with walks, hits, errors, bunts, whatever you want, and then, my friends, you can totally strand them ‘til the cows come home! You can first-pitch swing into double plays, strike out, pop out, whatever! The world is your oyster! Just as long as you convert on 2-3 of those opportunities a game, enough to score more runs than your opponents.
“But Batgirl,” you say, “how can we score more runs than the other team when we don’t know how many runs they’re going to score, huh? We’re not psychic, except for Old Man Mulholland, and maybe Mike Redmond since he got hit in the head.” Well, I say, let’s make this even easier.
Fact: you, Twins are 186-1 this season when you score four runs or more and, Fact: you are 10-960 when you score fewer than four. So, under Batgirl’s Happy Kitten Plan For Ultimate Triumph you score four runs a game. That’s two base hits with the bases juiced, or, say, one sac fly and a three-run double, or two sac flies, a base hit with RISP, and a walk-off bunt for Little Nicky Punto, or even—and I know I’m asking a lot here—one grand salami. Because salami is delicious and I think you like to eat it—are you hearing me, Matt LeCroy? Strand as many was you want, but score four runs a game and Batgirl bets you won’t be going home once October starts next year.
By the way, we’ve had the privilege of seeing two career journeymen minor leaguers make their debuts this year. There was Glenn Williams—ah, yes, that was ages ago, back when we were still young and had dreams—and now Chris “Hunts Is Fine But I Prefer” Heintz has been in the minors for ten years without a major league call-up, but this year he batted .304 in Rochester and was the Red Wings’ MVP, and the Twins made room for him on their 40-man roster. On Saturday, Heintz had his first major league appearance, on Sunday he got a start and a hit, tonight he his first RBI, scoring the Twins’ first run of the game, and last week he was turned into a chick for the first time. He has seemed absolutely giddy on his first tour with the show, and he is a reminder, even during these dark times, what a privilege it is to play the game, and what fun it is to watch it. Also, he is delicious with French fries.
BatNotes: Batgirl would like to take this moment to congratulate her beloved husband who handed in his dissertation today and is now Dr. Jeb. He has worked almost as hard on it as the Twins have to score runs this year. Unfortunately, Dr. Jeb then dove into the fountain near the registrar’s office and that’s when the BatCell went dead. BG is sure he’s fine.
Ah, yes, a little bit of situational hitting does the BOD-y good. Twins and Kitties tied at 1, late. Stewie hustles out a double, Little Nicky Punto a walk, then the Chairman launches a beautiful single to left. For your situational hitting and your four hit night, Chairman, the people thank you for your wisdom and bestow upon you the Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/Field 21, Sooz/Stewie 14, Jeb/Lewwww 13, Batgirl/ Joe 11, Goober/Dr. Morneau 8.
A List Composed During Sunday’s Game
by Batgirl, with some help from Team Batgirl
Twins at Cleveland. Weekend Round-Up.
Don’t ask. Seriously.
1) Batkitty #2 goes through a phase sometimes. I do not want to be specific about the phase, but let’s just say it earns him the nickname Sir Pukes-a-lot. He is an artist that works in kitty vomit, and like the best artist, he is constantly pushing boundaries. He makes an active effort never to puke in the same place twice, so you find kitty vomit where you least expect it. Sometimes, after a long day of blogging, after a nice bubble bath and a fine glass of wine from a box, you crawl into your bed and find that you have lain down directly in a pile of regurgitated Science Diet and kitty bile.
And that was more fun than this,
2) Her senior year of high school, after about a four-year crush, Batgirl worked up the nerve to ask Jamon Heller to the senior prom. She did it right after Fiddler on the Roof rehearsal, in the hallway. Jamon said to Batgirl, “Well, Batgirl, we’re great friends, but shouldn’t prom be something …romantic?”
And that was more fun than this.
3) When Batgirl was in fourth grade she fell off of her bed and hit her head on her Garfield wastebasket. The wastebasket had a big Garfield on the front and on the back had several panels in which Garfield made wry comments about his canine compatriot and his owner, and perhaps also expressed his love for lasagna. The wastebasket was also metal and had come apart at the seam to form a jagged edge. It is this edge that Batgirl’s head collided with, and when she drew her hand to her face, she felt something kind of sticky. So she went into the bathroom and found the entire left side of her face was covered in blood. So she padded down the hallway and knocked on BatMom and Dad’s door. They opened the door to behold their nine-year-old daughter with a face drenched with blood. And Batgirl just asked to be sure, but indeed—
That was more fun than this.
4) In 2003, Goober ran his first Twin Cities Marathon. At mile 10, his knee gave out, but he finished the race because he followed a 300-lb guy wearing an “I’m Running With Jesus” t-shirt and because he carried a homer hanky, as he was going to see the Twins in Game 4 of the ALDS that afternoon and he had faith in the Twins to carry him through. His feet swelled up so badly it killed all of his toenails, and when he took off his shoes after the marathon all his toenails had turned a tarry black. Goober then went to watch the Yankees hand the Twins their buttocks in Game 4, then over the next few weeks his toenails all fell off, one by one.
And that was more fun than this.
5) Once, Batgirl had to get a spinal tap. During the tap, the nurse told Batgirl to curl her toes and it would help with the pain. And the miracle was, it did help, it really did! Batgirl was instructed to lay on her back for a couple of days, otherwise the tap might leak and then she would get horrible headaches and have to go in to get it all patched up—a process in which they take the patient’s own blood and re-inject it into her spine at the spot of the lumbar puncture. Batgirl did get terrible headaches and had to go get the patch procedure on her birthday at a place called “United Center for Pain.”
It was well-named, and it was more fun than this.
6) Her freshman year of college, Batgirl was on vacation with some friends and work up in the middle of the night with an intense pain in her pelvic region. After several minutes in which the pain increased exponentially, Batgirl went to get her friends and they took her to the emergency room. Batgirl was doubled over in pain by this time, scared and weeping. The doctor asked her a few brusque questions then turned to his nurse, stroking his mustache, and proclaimed, “Strap her in for a pelvic.”
And, well, you know...
7) When Jeb was in 6th grade he fell off his bike and badly mangled the fingers on his left hand. In order to reset said badly mangled fingers without causing young Jeb to perish from the pain, the doctor needed to give him Novocain. Now, if you really want to kill all the nervous communication from the elbow down, there’s one real sweet spot for sticking that needle in and that spot is the funny bone. After the doctor inserted the needle, he looked at young Jeb apologetically and said, “I’m going to have to really work this in to make sure the anesthetic gets good coverage,” and started wiggling the needle around in his funny bone.
More fun. Loads.
Readers, help Batgirl add to her list. What else?
This is entirely unrelated to baseball.
As you know, families stranded by Hurricane Katrina will be coming up to Camp Riley near Little Falls. The Children's Literature Network has put together Project Book Share--a book drive for the children who will be stationed at Camp Ripley. From now until Sept 19, the following places will be accepting donations of new or very gently used books for babies, children, and teens:
Bookcase of Wayzata, 607 East Lake Street, Wayzata, MN
Fergus Falls Public Library, 205 East Hampden during their open hours (9-8 Mon-Thurs; 9-6 Fri; 9-1 Sat)
The Loft at Open Book, 1011 Washington Avenue South, Minneapolis, MN
The Red Balloon Bookshop, 891 Grand Avenue, St Paul, MN
Wild Rumpus, 2720 W. 43rd Street, Minneapolis, MN — Wild Rumpus will match every donated book with TWO new books from their store supply.
For more information, and for downloadable Project Book Share flyers, please see the Children's Literature Network. (This post is BG's way of putting a flyer up at her office.)
Last time on Minnesota Twins: Hottest Chick,Britney Boone was heralded as MAD HOT. Unfortunately, Britney got DFA'd, so Martha LeCroy will move on to next week's exciting final round, where we will decide once and for all--who is the hottest chick?
But we have one more round to go, for we've seen a bunch of fresh faces around the ballclub recently. So, with the help of the girls from American's Next Top Model 5, we are very proud to present:
Francesca Liriano
Christine Heinz
Louise Rodriguez
Scotia Baker
Terri Tiffee
Traviss Boyer
Brentita Abernathy
Jasonella Tyner
Michelle Ryan
Kyle Lohse might have started his last game for the Twins.The right-hander could have sealed his fate with the organization when he dented manager Ron Gardenhire's Metrodome office door, apparently with a bat, after an early departure from Tuesday night's start...Lohse, who has had a strained relationship with the on-field and front-office staffs the past three years, was infuriated about being pulled from Tuesday's game against the Texas Rangers after allowing five runs in two innings. Soon after leaving the game, he went into the clubhouse and damaged Gardenhire's metal door, the manager said.
Lohse also broke the doorknob and dented the door on the clubhouse workers' locker room adjacent to Gardenhire's office. Later Tuesday, Lohse told reporters that Gardenhire and his coaching staff didn't "stand behind me and say, 'We've got your back.'
Last year, BG was not happy with Lohse, her erstwhile pitching boyfriend, for blaming everyone but himself for his struggles, but this year he seemed to have really matured, sacrificing pitches (and ego) as the coaching staff asked him to, to the benefit of his performance, and handling his periodic struggles with grace. But slamming a bat around the clubhouse: not cool. Saying they don't have your back when they stood by you through all those struggles: also not cool. Damaging yourself physically through your own tantrums, also not cool. It's okay to be emotional, but a) no smashing things b) you gotta know when to come back with your tail between your legs and say you're sorry. And and c) try not to hurt your finger next time.
You want to know who is cool? Joe Mays, Joe Mays is cool. BG heard him on the radio and he was just so graceful. He said he doesn't want to be in the bullpen but he's been terrible and he shouldn't be in the ro' if he's going to pitch like that. Also, he didn't smash anything. Joe Mays has earned BG's lifelong respect for the way he's handled his struggles this season. Also, nice job out of the bullpen yesterday, dude.
Texas at Twins. Twins 8, Rangers 6.
After Carlos Silva’s unearned-run-o-rific loss on Monday, the Twins starting pitchers gathered at Café Brenda’s to drown their sorrows in mock duck tacos and several bottles of organic wine. There wasn’t a lot of conversation, really—mostly the pitchers sat slumped in their chairs chugging the wine straight from the bottle, and every once in awhile one of them would start weeping gently.
Finally, Kyle Lohse smashed his wine bottle on the floor and said something that rhymed with, "Truck this bit!" He shook his head and continued, "Truck it! I’m sick of this trucking bit!"
"Yeah," said Radke, throwing his bottle against the wall, where it shattered. "This trucking bucks!"
"Truck. Truck. Truck." muttered Carlos the Jackal, lost deep inside his wine bottle.
"Truck!" said Lohse, standing up and overturning his chair. "You know trucking what? If they're going to trucking buck, why are we working our trucking basses off? Huh?"
"I don't trucking know," slurred the Jackal. "Trucking mufffle fuffle."
"Truck yeah!" said Radke, flipping the table over. "Truck them. If they want to trucking buck, we'll show them! We'll trucking buck too!"
"Mur-FUFFLE!" agreed the Jackal.
"I am trucking down with you homies," said El Presidente, walking over to the nearest female Brenda's diner, dipping her backwards, and planting a long, slow, deep, wet kiss on her lips.
"It's bril-trucking-iant," said Lohse. "We'll trucking buck, and then they'll be trucking sorry. It will trucking show those trucking bassbowls a thing or do. See how they trucking like it.
"Chacarron," mumbled the Jackal.
"Chacarron!" exclaimed Bradke.
"Your ideas are most trucking excellent," said El Presidente, looking up from his kiss, "but, alas, I must inform you that I do not know how to trucking buck. I will, however, support you in your trucking bucking endeavors. Now, if you will excuse me, my brothers, I must make love to this beautiful woman."
So, the Minnesota Twins starting pitchers set out to trucking buck, and trucking buck they did. On Tuesday, after giving up a grand slam in the second inning to David "Please Get Out of Town and Don't Come Back, I'm Begging You" Dellucci, Lohse strode into the dugout and screamed, "Brew you, you trucking basspipes!" at the top of his lungs, then cackled manically and ran for the showers, where he blasted the shower stereo and danced merrily to "Don't Phunk with My Heart."
In the dugout, the players looked confusedly at each other.
"What's with Kyle?" asked Chairman Mauer.
"Don't know," said Fidel Castro. "Well, we better start our inevitable comeback!"
Today, despite his very best efforts, Bradke was not able to give up a grand salami, but still, by the time the second inning was done the Rangers were ahead 5-0, and he felt his work was done. As he walked into the dugout, he spread his arms out magnanimously and proclaimed, "My work here is done, you worthless band of truckweasels!" Then he skipped into the clubhouse where he blasted the shower stereo and dancing merrily to Kelly Clarkson's, "Behind These Hazel Eyes."
In the dugout, the players looked confusedly at each other.
"What's with Brad," asked Li'l-Rod.
"Don't know," said Lew Fordwalker. "But one thing I know, our pitchers need some runs. Come on boys, let's do it for Brad!"
"Offensive juggernaut away!" cried Little Nicky Punto.
Yes, it was a huge deficit, but no deficit is too big for the Minnesota Twins offense. Two four run innings later, and the Minnesota Twins had taken a three run lead—"Three runs is perfect," Li'l Sweetcheeks had explained to Li'l Rod, "We want to give our bullpen some padding, but we also want it to be a save situation for the Veep. He had a rough night last night, and he needs a good outing."
"Great plan!" said Lil Rod, "I'll make it happen!"
After the game, Bradke could be found sitting in on a clubhouse bench staring blankly at a minute piece of dust on the wall. Concerned, Fordwalker trotted up to him.
"Hey, Mr. Radke, why the long face? We won!" He grinned. "Look, I know it wasn't your best outing, but we're here to back you up! That's what we do on this team, we back each other up!" Fordwalker's eyes filled with tears. "It's such a beautiful thing. Next time you're out there, and you're struggling, I just want you to remember, your team's got your back, okay?" And then Lew put a comforting hand on Bradke's shoulders, stared meaningfully into his eyes for a long moment, and then skipped off to join the rest of his team.
As Bradke watched Fordwalker go, Kyle Lohse sat down heavily next to him. They watched their teammates slap each other on the backs in silence, then Lohse muttered, "Wanna go get trashed on organic wine?"
"Truck yeah."
For your two run double that put the Twins back in the game, we give you, Naked Batting Practice, your very first Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/Field 21, Sooz/Stewie 14, Jeb/Lewwww 13, Batgirl/ Joe 10, Goober/Dr. Morneau 8.
Thanks to the genius Batling who had the idea.
Again, Batgirl will be donating the proceeds from any item purchased in the BatStore from now through Sept 21 to hurricane relief. To make this more meaningful, she has raised the prices on every item by two dollars, so each item you purchase will result in four dollars for hurricane relief.
BATEDIT: We've already got $37 just from yesterday afternoon to this morning! THANK YOU to those who have ordered!
Batgirl will be donating the proceeds from any item purchased in the BatStore from now through Sept 21 to hurricane relief. To make this more meaningful, she has raised the prices on every item by two dollars, so each item you purchase will result in four dollars for hurricane relief. Click here to visit the BatStore.
Rangers at Twins. Rangers 7, Twins 0.
As most Twins fans know, Monday in the Twins organization is Brown Bag Lecture Series day—each of the players brings a bag lunch and gathers in the clubhouse to hear a lecture on some edifying topic or another. What makes the Twins' BBLS so special is the speakers are not outside experts, but rather the players themselves, who take it upon themselves to become experts in whatever the lecture topic for the day is. The more cynical among us might think this is merely a cost savings measure on the part of a tightass owner, that asking baseball players to be able to lecture on string theory, the works of Jane Austen, and First Amendment law is rather like asking a bunch of minor leaguers and career utility players to be the starting infield of a championship baseball team—but, really, Batgirl doesn’t think you should be so cynical. Adopt a kitty. You'll feel better about the world. Anyway, she'd like to point out that Jim Thome is known for his expertise in astrophysics and Flemish art.
Well, today was Juan Castro's turn to lecture, and his topic was, appropriately enough, U.S. Labor History. Castro arrived at the Dome at 4:30am in order to use the InterTron 4600 in the Twins clubhouse, but he found Lew Ford already stationed there playing Everquest.
"Lew," asked Juan, "have you been here all night?"
"Merrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmfffff," said Lew.
"Right," said Castro. "Well, I need to use the InterTron. I'm doing the lecture today."
"Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmp," said Lew, and he crawled into Joe Mauer's locker, cuddled up with a jersey, and fell asleep in a little ball on the floor.
Eight hours later, when the Twins arrived for the BBLS, they found an agitated Juan Castro pacing in front of the lecturn.
"What's with him," whispered Juan Rincon, eating a Cheet-o.
"Don't know," said Joe Nathan. "He was nothing like this when he did yonic imagery in Georgia O'Keefe."
"Man," said Rincon, shaking his head, "that was a great lecture."
"Yeah," said Nathan wistfully.
As soon as the Twins settled in, Castro took to the lecturn and began to speak.
"My friends," he began, "we toil in the fields while the ruling class reaps the benefits. It is our hands, our sweat, our tears that support this society, yet do we see any of the benefits? Do we have a voice? No. We break our backs trying to score runs for the ruling class, and what do they tell us in return? Score more runs! I ask you, my fellow players of baseball, is that right? Is that fair? They are treating us like commodities, and they will continue to do so as long as we let them. But it's time for us to show them that they don't control the means of production, we do! It's time for us to show them what happens when we unite. The workers of the world have nothing left to lose but their chains."
"My god," said Terry Tiffee. "He's right."
"Well, this is what I've been telling you all along," said Chairman Mauer.
"Well, you know what we have to do," said Michael Ryan, "we have to show the bourgeoisie what happens when we shut production down!"
"Run production, that is!" exclaimed Castro.
"We're striking!" shouted Michael Ryan.
"Striking out!" added Brent Abernathy.
"Solidarity now!" squeaked Little Nicky Punto, throwing his little fist in the air.
"Solidarity!" the players shouted, standing and cheering wildly, and in a rush, they stormed the playing field, ready to reclaim the value of their individual labor by grounding out a lot.
But not all the Twins were in such a rush to organize, indeed after the burgeoning labor movement left, a few could be found sitting in the folding chairs of the lecture hall, sitting in stunned silence. Bradke was there, rocking slightly, and Johan K. Santana was there, muttering to himself wildly in Venezuelian, and Kyle Lohse was there, staring at a spot on the wall, slowly shaking his head back and forth, back and forth. And Carlos Silva was there, too, eyes focused on the doorway through which the players had left, then he closed his eyes, drew in a deep, beleaguered breath, turned to his comrades and said, "Aw, shit."
Cleveland at Twins. Weekend Round-Up.
Friday. Cleveland 6, Twins 1.
Saturday. Twins 3, Cleveland 2.
Sunday. Twins 7, Cleveland 5.
Quick—quick—Batgirl's computer is dying. The power cord has powered its last blog entry, and Batgirl must rage, rage against the dying of the light until Apple sends her a new one. It is times like this that we must band together, we must hold hands, we must collect all our energy and send it right to Batgirl's BlogTron 3000.
Batgirl could of course just give up. She could look at the battery bar of her BlogTron as it slowly sinks—oh, like the sands through the hourglass!—and call it a day. But did the Twins call it a day on Friday when Radke gave up three early runs and CiCi Sabathia started pitching one perfect inning after another?
Well, yes, I guess they did. But that was Friday. Ages ago. Batgirl had a working BlogTron on Friday. What about Saturday—huh? Did the Twins call it a day when Twitchy McXanax got his first blown save in, like, forever? No. They said, "I know we don't have any offensive capabilities, and I know each run is like childbirth for us, and I know we couldn't score enough to get El Presidente the win, but this is our Vice President, he needs us now, so come on, my friends, let us bunt, let us bunt like we've never bunted before, let us bunt as if our very lives depended on it. Let us bunt to victory!"
And yes, my friends, they did. Who needs boomie boomie sticks when you have pushie pushie sticks and the Cleveland defense (Thanks guys!). Only the Twins can score off two bunts—or should I say that the Twins can only score a run off two bunts? Semantics. All that matters is Little Nicky Punto is the best walk off bunter ever. And he's ours, ours I say!
And today. Scott Baker got his first start in the Metrodome, just two days before he has to start his junior year of high school—which is a very scary year, there are lots of changes, and prom to think about, and PSATs and SATs, and he has Mrs. Dorsey for precalc, and she'll fail you, she's not afraid, even though you're a sweet pitcher and can get her Johan Santana's autograph—but Scott Baker, he pitched his tail off and just because Cleveland got all, like, "Hey! Guess what! We can get extra base hits! We can hit homers! In your face!" we were not afraid. We even got the bases loaded and did we weep and rent our garments and run to our respective mothers? Well, maybe Batgirl did, but did Shannon Stewart? No. He hit the ball. With the bases loaded. For a hit. And scored runs. He, in fact, scored two runs with one hit, which Batgirl didn't even know was possible. And then later, we had the bases loaded again and Mike Redmond did not flee, he merely stripped off all his clothes and said, "I think it's time for a little naked batting practice."
Boom! Pow! Redmond hit the ball right at "rightfielder" Casey Blake—oh, how cruel you are, Naked Batting Practice, how devious, how gorgeously Machiavellian—and Casey Blake, well, he didn't exactly field the ball, unless fielding means he let it bounce out of his glove and roll to the wall, in which case that's exactly what he did.
Next time, my friends, next time you are in trouble, next time you need to find a little extra of that ineffable something inside you, close your eyes and imagine Mike Redmond on second base, standing there in all God's glory, naked as the day he was born, his pee pee flapping in the indoor-stadium breeze. That, my friends, is the pee pee flap of victory.
Really, Batgirl doesn't ask for a lot in life. All she wants is, when the Twins are down a run and the bases are loaded, that the guy who comes up hits a nice single. Really. Is that so much to ask? When you hit a nice single, all sort of wonderful things happen, like the Twins going up 4-3, like Batgirl cheering, and like the person who hit the single--in this case Mr. Shannon Stewart--gets the Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/Field 20, Sooz/Stewie 14, Jeb/Lewwww 13, Batgirl/ Joe 10, Goober/Dr. Morneau 8.
Okay, yes, we couldn't give Johan the win, and yes we could only win when someone threw the ball at Little Nicky Punto's head, and this should probably go to Mr. Santana, but Batgirl's so happy to see Dr. Morneau put his curls to use for RBI's, and so for his RBI double on the 6th, Batgirl gives the good doctor the Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/Field 20, Sooz/Stewie 13, Jeb/Lewwww 13, Batgirl/ Joe 10, Goober/Dr. Morneau 8.
BatEditor's Note: It was Batgirl's turn to do the Blogger's Minute on WCCO's Twins Magazine. Careful readers may note Batgirl was quite clearly inspired by a comment Soccerfan made on Monday's game recap. Thanks Soccerfan!
I'm not sure Scott Baker was prepared for the reception he got when he came in to the clubhouse on Monday. The Twins always try to make rookies feel comfortable, certainly, but it all seemed a little extreme. There were balloons and a big banner and a huge cake that Matthew LeCroy made, but even more than that, there was a sense of ebullience in the clubhouse not seen since Lew Ford found the cheat codes for Doom III. As soon as Baker walked in, the whole team stood up and applauded, Mike Redmond started weeping copiously, and Justin Morneau collapsed with joy into Little Nicky Punto's arms.
The Twins have been looking all year for some help, that one player that might make a difference. After all, as anyone who follows the Twins knows, the team pitching has been just dreadful all year. Why, for most of the season we've been second or even third in team ERA and while we're in first now, if our pitchers keep allowing a whole run a game we could plummet back to second at any moment. Meanwhile, our pitchers are only 7th in wins, and I can't think of anyone to blame for that but that pitching staff itself. Why, just look at Thursday's game against the Royals—what with 13 hits and no runs, our batters were obviously trying not to score, and so it was incumbent on the pitching staff to hold the Royals scoreless forever. And, really, how hard could that be? My mom pitched a shutout to the Royals last week during batting practice, and she's in her first year off Tommy John surgery.
But the pitchers just couldn't do it, the Twins lost that game 1-0, and the fact is, this has been going on all year. No matter how many times our batters helpfully demonstrate the myriad ways to produce a scoreless inning, it seems too many games our pitchers allow one or even sometimes two runs.
But now, with the call-up of Scott Baker, we have hope, for with him on our club, the Twins got what they really needed….
A pitcher.
From the Strib:
Liriano, a lefthander, was called up to the majors by the Twins on Friday, bringing with him a fastball in the mid-90s and an arsenal similar to Johan Santana's...Liriano, 21, was 3-5 with a 3.64 ERA in 13 starts at Class AA New Britain. He had 26 walks and 92 strikeouts in 762/3 innings. That earned him a promotion to Class AAA Rochester.
At Rochester, Liriano was 9-2 with a 1.76 ERA in 14 starts, with 24 walks and 112 strikeouts in 91 innings. Combined, that's a 12-7 record, 2.63 ERA with 50 walks and 204 strikeouts in 1672/3 innings -- which is why he's considered one of the best pitching prospects in the game. In addition to his fastball, Liriano throws a slider and a changeup.
"[General Manager] Terry Ryan told me he was very good," manager Ron Gardenhire said. "Terry doesn't throw out 'very good' very often."
The Twins will be auctioning off several items and packages this weekend to help with hurricane relief. Please see the Twins website for details.
Also, the American Red Cross is taking donations here. Or else please see Minnesota Helps. And for all the batdoggies and kitties in the affected areas, please visit the ASPCA.
Jason Tyner and Francisco Liriano (a.k.a Santana 2: Electric Boogaloo, as dubbed by Batling Torhu.)
Nice to see you.
Readers, what on earth is going on with Bobby Kielty?
On Wednesday, Sports Illustrated published a Fan Value Index asking which ballpark gives fans the "most bang for their buck." Using a complicated formula, they determined that the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome "may be the worst place to watch a baseball game in America."
Now, really. Batgirl is tired of all these big city east coast fancy dan media elite coming in and harshing on the HumpDome. Sure, it's an assheap, but it's OUR assheap. There must be worse places to watch a baseball game—prison, a cesspool, the floor of a poultry processing facility, levels five through nine of hell, the south side of Chicago.
Readers, can you think of others?
