Dear First Base Ump:
Okay, you know what? Batgirl doesn't like to complain about calls. Because bad calls are a part of the game, yadda yadda, and when a call doesn't go your way it's your job to buckle down and win anyway (as opposed to bitching about it the whole $?@%!#? game). And as you may remember on Tuesday nothing seemed to go the Twins' way, umpire-wise, lots of bad calls at first and then Cuddy was out on a foul tip with two on and two out in the eighth, which was pretty curious because the ball never actually hit his bat, which I think is sort of required in a foul tip, don't you?
But, you know, part of the game, blah blah blah. Bad call. You win some, you lose some. It all evens out, unless you’re the Angels in the ALCS. Umps are humans, except for the ones that are Cylons, but those tend to be quite accurate, really.
But you know what I do mind, Mr. Umpire Man? When a kid's—no, no the Kid—has got a no hitter in the sixth—yes, a no freakin' hitter, not a one-hitter or a two hitter, but a no hitter which means he has not allowed a hit—and there's a close call at first you better be damned sure you get it right. And you know what, you blue bellied boobie? You blew it. Carbrea was out by half a step and you cost the Kid his bleepin' blargin' no hitter because you have a depth perception problem and you've been too embarrassed to tell anyone because you're an ump and you can't be an ump with a depth perception problem (clearly) and then they'd fire you and you have no other skills, except for macramé, but that doesn't pay very well and besides every time you express yourself in macramé your brother Stan beats you up and it hurts and maybe that's what's responsible for your depth perception problem in the first place because when Stan found you hiding in the closet making a macramé owl he hit you in the brain and you've never been the same since except for the one thing that you are and always have been a total freakin' moron and a stupid-ass crap weasel and I hate you.
Jerk.
Sincerely,
Batgirl
p.s. You suck at macramé, too.
Oh, man, you guys, you don’t know what this is like. I know what you're all going to say, and yes, totally the Kid is the player of the game, I mean, with all the no hits and stuff and how he's only given up one run as a starter, and how there's fire coming out of his arm (sometimes maybe a wee too much, but that's totally okay). And the Kid has many B.O.D.s in his future as pretty soon like Santana he'll get this thing every other start, but we've got to look at the Team Batgirl Boyfriends first, and if you look at them you'll see that one of them was 3 for 5 with two doubles and two RBIs and also hit his way into the AL batting average leader and that's pretty darned awesome, too, and that's why you, Chairman Mauer are the Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/The Field: 6; Batbaby/Torii: 6; Batgirl/Chairman 4; Goober/ Dr. Morneau 4, Sooz/Stewie 2; Jeb/Lewwww 2.
Twins at Los Angeles in Anaheim. Angels 6, Twins 3.
Scott Baker was sleeping happily, his stuffed TC Bear tucked sweetly into his arms, a small smile spread softly over his baby-soft face, when suddenly a strange feeling of dread washed over him. He was not alone in the room. Someone was there with him, standing over his bed looking intently at him, someone….not human.
Suppressing a girly-scream, Baker unconsciously hugged his TC closer to him and slowly opened his eyes. What he saw chilled him to his very bones.
"Nutty!" he breathed.
"Hello, Scott Baker," murmured Nutty.
"What are you doing?" Baker asked, clutching his blanket to him. "Are you okay?"
"No, Scott Baker," said Nutty, in an eerie cool voice, like the calm before the storm. "No, I'm not okay. We have to have a talk."
"Now?" gulped Baker. "Can't it wait?" The truth was, he did not like the look in the protective cup's eyes, no, he did not like it one bit.
"No, Scott Baker," said Nutty, his voice low and threatening. "We have to talk now. Have you seen this?"
Nutty handed Baker a newspaper, which is sort of strange because he doesn't have hands.
"Yeah," sighed Baker. "I know. If I don't pitch bueno today they're going to send me down."
"You know?" said Nutty. "You know?"
"Well…sure."
"Why didn't you tell me?" shrieked the cup.
Baker rolled his eyes. "Nutty, I don't tell you everything, you know. It's not like we're married or something."
Nutty's eyes narrowed. "That's right, Scott Baker. That's right. We're not married. I am your athletic cup and I can make you or I can break you, you hear me? What would you do without me, after all?"
"Um…." Baker said, looking around. "Get another cup?"
"That's not funny Scott Baker! You don't treat Nutty right and your dingleberries will never be protected again, you hear me? I'm not going back. I'm not."
"Back where?"
"To the minors, Scott Baker! Do you have any idea what it's like down there?"
"Well, yeah I have a pretty good—"
"You don't know! You don't! Those buses? They're not air conditioned, Scott Baker. Do you know what that means? I can’t take it, I really can't—"
"I know, but—"
"And the other athletic cups, they're all old and bitter. And Lohse's down there, have you ever met his cup? That guy's a dick!"
"I—"
"It's where dreams go to die, Scott Baker. I had dreams once, you know! So I want you to go to the park today and I want you to pitch as bueno as you possibly can, because—because—" He could not continue. A whimper emanated from him mouth and just like that Nutty began to sob.
Baker shifted slightly in his bed. "Oh, Nutty…"
"Don't Scott Baker!" howled Nutty. "Just don't! All I do is think about you and now I need you to protect me, okay? I want you to be my protective cup!"
And with that, he hurled himself into Baker's arms, bawling like no athletic cup has ever bawled before. And despite it all, Baker's heart softened and he held Nutty close. "There, there," he whispered, patting him on the back. "There, there. Don't worry, Nutty. It will all be okay."
Twins at Anaheim of Los Angeles. LAAAAA 4, Twins 3 (11 innings).
Oh, gosh, you guys, Batgirl's getting too old for this. Sure, when she started this blog at 23 she could handle these extra inning west coast games, but now as her 26th birthday draws nigh she's really feeling it. And apparently so are the Twins. Really, the whole thing's utterly unfair—the Angels get to play in prime time while our boys have to be up well past their bedtimes; Joe Mauer has only recently started staying up past 9, and Lew Ford is generally supposed to be lights out by 10 CDT, though sometimes he slips Corri a mickey so he can go play Warcraft. The point is, you can't blame Rondell for getting picked off second by three miles in the 10th or the Doctor for letting balls sail by his head willy nilly, no more than you can blame BG for drooling on her keyboard after 11.
Not that the jet lag hit everyone—at first Bradke seemed something like Mount Vesuvius; you knew it was going to blow, it was just a question of when. And then the sun set in the West and Bradke was like, "oh, hey, did the season start? Why didn't anyone tell me?" and suddenly there were all these gorgeous Radke-of-Olde things like ground outs and strikeouts and maybe even one-two-three innings, I don't know, I'm too tired to count. As for Jesse Crain, BG felt about as good with him entering the game in the ninth as JFK felt about those missiles going to Cuba, but thanks to some diplomacy and a nice slider, the whole thing was pretty non-apocalyptic. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to have the same control on his pickoff move to first in the 11th, the Doctor let out a big yawn at the wrong time, and the ball traveled past the Doctor, up the first baseline, outside of the stadium, over the state line, and to Las Vegas where it spent some time at the Bellagio, hired some prostitutes, got caught up in a whole crooked defense contract deal, and married some chick it met at the bar. Oopsie.
The point being, BG's taking some comfort in Bradke's performance in the middle innings of the game, and even some comfort in the fact that when he loaded up the bases he managed to keep things under control (How Boof-esque!), and that now she gets to go to bed.
Light blogging this week on account of how incredibly sleepy BG is.
Seattle at Twins. Weekend Round-Up.
Friday: Twins 3, Mariners 1
Saturday: Twins 9, Mariners 5.
Sunday: Twins 4, Mariners 3. (10 innings.)
You know what Batgirl likes?
Winning.
Winning rules. Like you know how we used to win games? And it was awesome? Like that.
Or, say, like this weekend. A crazy thing happened at the Triple H this weekend, my friends, and I do not mean Johan Santana's hair today. (BG understands, Mr. President, humidity does a number on her hair, too. You should see it right now. In fact, why don't you come over?) The Minnesota Twins swept a three game series, which means they won three games in a row. And you know how they did it? This might sounds nuts, but I swear on Batkitty #2 it's true: They won with good pitching, timely hitting, good defense, and Lew Ford.
When Johan Santana allows the most runs of your starting pitchers in a series [oops, not actually true-Jeb], you've had a good week. First the Kid made the Mariners look very, very silly waving their bats around in the general direction of the ball, then Boof "John" Bonser pitched himself into a huge jam with the bases loaded and no outs in the first, then struck them all out just to show them he could. (Note to Radke: please don't try this.) and Johan had an off-start for him, meaning three runs over seven innings and probably needs a spanking.
The leather flashing was pretty awesome, too. Sweetcheeks saved Liriano's scoreless streak, and perhaps the game on Friday with a shoestring catch with the bases loaded, then there was Luis Castillo's triple play (in a good way) featuring a pretty heads-up move by the Doctor and T-Fat, LNP showing his tiny superhero skills at short (Heh. "Short.") and Naked Batting Practice throwing out a runner and skipping with glee and Cuddy saving the game and the Veep's self-esteem with a snow cone catch in the 10th tonight [Mmm….Snow Cone –Jeb], and more that I can't even remember because of all the defense.
While the Twins were impressive, the Seattle Mariners' ability to run themselves out of every potential scoring situation deserves some note here. After awhile, you began to think they were doing it intentionally, like some kind of bizarre performance art without the flagellating yourself with a dildo. Except maybe metaphorically. Luis Castillo tried desperately to make them feel better by getting nabbed on the basepaths twice today, shouting each time, "My comrades! I die for you!" The gesture was not appreciated.
Oh, and the homers! All the homers! The Chairman, the Doctor, Viva Castro, and Cuddles all hit bombs, and at the very end of the game, in the bottom of the tenth with the score tied and the bullpen weary, Lew Fordwalker stepped to the plate and closed his eyes and NBP said, "Lew, you've switched off your targeting computer! What's wrong?" And Lew said, "Nothing, I'm all right," and Mr. Winkles said, "Come on kid, let's blow this thing and go home!" And he does, he does blow this thing. (In a good way.) And the Twins jump up and down at home plate and Batgirl jumps up and down, and all over the universe people dance while fireworks explode over their heads, gnomes dance, the protective cups dance, even the Ewoks dance [[until Jeb goes over to the forest moon of Endor and beats them all over the head with a baseball bat-Jeb]]. And it is beautiful.
Readers/The Field: 6; Batbaby/Torii: 6; Goober/ Dr. Morneau 4; Batgirl/JoeJoe 3; Sooz/Stewie 2; Jeb/Lewwww 2.
I know what you're going to say, I do. And I hear your concerns. But before we proceed, it seems some review of the BOD rules is in order, in particular two clauses. #1: This is not a player of the day, but rather a competition between Team Batgirl's boyfriends and if and only if no TBB is deserving of the award, or a non-TBB gives a truly exceptional performance (in Johan Santana's case, a "start") then the coveted award goes to someone in the field. #2: The BOD Supreme High Commandress's rule is absolute and there is no whining and/or talkbalk. But BODSHC, you say, we know the rules, but surely you're going to give this to Cuddy/Boof/Boo/Castro, and the BODSHC smiles sadly and says, no, no my friends, for they may have been the players of the game but the Boyfriend of the Day accounted for the first run of the game with a sac fly and starting our comeback with a ground rule double, plus he's on fire, plus the BatBaby is a little cranky tonight, and that's why you, Torii Hunter, are the Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/The Field: 6; Batbaby/Torii: 6; Goober/ Dr. Morneau 4; Batgirl/JoeJoe 3; Sooz/Stewie 2; Jeb/Lewwww 1.
A hard one tonight and BG is a little torn. Lots of nods to the Kid for giving us a reason to live again and to the Veep for being mad hot. And BG's this close to giving it to Sweetcheeks for potentially saving the game with a shoestring catch with the bases loaded. But on a night where the Twins got the stadium bill signed and the biggest applause of the night went to Kent Hrbek, the BODSHC is going to honor the hometown hero, who's been kicking butt-ocks all over the place lately, who was born after the Metrodome opened and with any luck will be hitting homers in Legovision Park in '10, who caught a great game and kept the Kid calm when things got dicey and hit a nice solo homer and managed not to be too dorky in his postgame interview, and that's why you, Chairman Mauer, are the Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/The Field: 6; Batbaby/Torii: 5; Goober/ Dr. Morneau 4; Batgirl/JoeJoe 3; Sooz/Stewie 2; Jeb/Lewwww 1.
As you all know, BG thinks of nothing but you. When she took the Oath of Bloggiosity, she made a solemn vow that she would use her platform only for good, and she would dedicate herself to helping her readers sort through the endless morass of Twins-themed novelty frozen goods. So when BG discovered Kemps had released four Twins ice creams, she knew she had a job to do, so she called Team Batgirl together for a taste test. Below, as a service to you, Team Batgirl presents their impressions.
N. B. Each flavor of Twins ice cream contains a "chocolate Minnesota Twins cup" which is essentially a chocolate piece in a shape which roughly approximates the state of Minnesota in the way the Batbaby might draw it. These pieces are about 1/4 the size presented on the box, as seen below.
THE ICE CREAMS:
Touch 'Em All Chocolate Malt: Fudge filled chocolate Minnesota Twins cups in malt-flavored ice cream with a thick fudge swirl.
Goober found that this flavor had "surprising legs" and "slowly blossomed." He found it "light-bodied with hints of fig and pomegranate." Jeb thought it had a subtle flavor, "well-suited for a sophisticated palate." Batgirl found the malty nose overpowering, but appreciated the "consistency and commitment." Sooz said it wasn't chocolaty enough.
The package promises chocolately goodness, but the product pales in comparison.
Graham Slam: Marshmallow filled Minnesota Twins cup in graham-flavored ice cream with a graham swirl.
Jeb spent some time appreciating the bouquet—"graham-y," he said, "with a hint of salt...Redolent of a day at the seaside, as long as you spent that day snorting graham crackers." Upon tasting, he found the marshmallow "unconvincing" and the bouquet to promise more than the ice cream delivered. In other words, its smell wrote a check that its taste couldn't cash. Batgirl adored it and remarked with great pleasure that there was a "grahamspolosion" in her mouth. Goober found it more mature than the malt. "Oak-y, with a faint hint of nutmeg." He favorably noted the strong graham taste and longed to enjoy it "with apple juice and a nap on the floor." Sooz said it wasn't chocolaty enough.
Pennant Fever Peanut Butter Peanut Butter filled chocolate Minnesota Twins cups in chocolate-flavored ice cream with a peanut butter swirl.
Jeb said the smell was "chocolaty…tends toward the fudgy," and commented on the "cinnamon notes." Upon tasting, he pontificated that the "peanut butter tastes like ass butter," and "you can really taste the xantham gum." Goober described the taste as a mélange of "coffee, cardamom, tree bark, and feet," and commented that it was "a little too enthusiastic to get to know you but then it doesn't want to stick around to cuddle…Creamy in texture, like a blend of Miracle Whip and yarn." He suggested renaming it to "Batista Butter Blowout," which would "capture the sheer mediocrity as well as the disconcerting overall impression." He also took the quart home with him. Batgirl found the general taste quite pleasing, but the peanut butter as weak as the Yankees farm system, while Sooz said it wasn't chocolaty enough.
TC Fudge Sundae Fudge swirled chocolate Minnesota Twins cups in vanilla flavored ice cream with a thick fudge swirl
Batgirl felt that the ice cream flavor itself was "less vanilla than freezer burn." Jeb found the chocolate chunks to be pleasing, like something that might belong in ice cream, yet not remotely chocolaty, and as a result he was left "dizzy and reeling." Goober described the flavor as "Styrofoam peanuts with a nutella swirl and a hint of marmite…so neutral and cheap that at first it doesn't actually exist." He was disconcerted by the swirl—"as if someone ground up cigars in it, but not bad cigars." After thinking for some time he decided it "tastes like the Ovaltine factory smells." Sooz found it not chocolaty enough.
In sum, Sooz and Jeb liked the more subtle notes of the Touch 'Em All Chocolate Malt, while BG and Goober loved the more overt and welcoming—some may say slutty—taste of Graham Slam. All agreed that, despite the irrepressible lovability of its namesake, TC Fudge Sundae tastes like ass.
Cleveland at Twins. Cleveland 11, Twins 0.
4) They seemed like such a happy couple, neighbors said. Sure there was some fighting over the upbringing of their son, who was a rather moody chap, but you'd never know the queen was having an affair with the king's brother and conspiring with him to viciously kill her husband. In fact, no one would have known a thing had the king's ghost not decided to take a quick jaunt around the castle one night and tell the son everything. And boy was the son pissed, so much so that at the Elsinore softball game he hit two three-run home runs against his uncle/father. Unfortunately, his brother/ cousin later poisoned him with an ass-bat.
3) Okay, there was this other king, right? And his brother was a total moron. He let his wife run off with this pantywaist prince, and once again it was the king's job to clean up the mess. He was going to bring a world of hurt down on the prince and his whole city-state (with the help of the world's greatest warrior, who was completely immortal—except for this itsy bitsy little part on his heel, but who would ever hit that?) just as soon as he could set sail. There was just this little problem—he'd offended Artemis, who is so touchy—and she sent a bad wind and they couldn't leave port to go kick some Trojan ass. So he asked a prophet what to do and the prophet naturally advised that the king sacrifice his daughter. The king was like, "Is that all?" So he had his wife send the girl up to a mountain under the pretense she was going to marry that same world's greatest warrior. (The queen was surprised because the warrior had not shown that much interest in girls before, but what are you going to do?) When she found out the truth, well, she was majorly p.o.ed. So, when the king came back from the war she stabbed him in the bathtub and then hit two three-run home runs off his lifeless body.
2) There was this king who thought his marriage was going really well. Sure, there'd been some stress, like when his brother seized the throne from him, but the king got it back when Zeus had the sun set in the east in support of his candidacy. It sounds weird, but it was really impressive at the time. So he banished his brother, ruled Mycene, and all was well. Until he found the queen in an extra-hot embrace with his brother. Boy, did that tick him off! So, under the pretense of reconciliation, he invited his brother over for din-din. He gathered together his brother's sons, killed them, baked them into a pie, and fed them to their father as the main course. He felt much better then. But his brother would get his revenge. He had a new son and he squirrled him away in a cave where he raised him and threw BP for him every day so, when the boy finally came of age, he could exact his terrible revenge at the annual House of Atreus softball game and barbeque.
1) In October of 2002, Twins general manager Terry Ryan released Casey Blake. Actually, Blake took it rather well.
From the Strib:
Torii Hunter flew home to Texas following the Twins' game in Milwaukee on Sunday, allowing him to watch his two sons play a Little League game for the first time in two years.It was quite a treat. Torii Jr. pitched a no-hitter in a four- inning game, and Monshadrik hit a homer, a double and had three RBI.
http://www.amherst.edu/~jbroich
Cleveland at Twins. Twins 6, Cleveland 5.
A long time ago in a galaxy far far away there was a young girl named Batgirl with a plot of land, a hoe, and a dream of self-sufficiency. And she said: "I will take my plot of land and my hoe and my dream and with it I shall create a blog and this will be a blog devoted to the principle that baseball is fun and the Twins are beloved and the word "ass" is inherently hilarious and can be used as any part of speech, except for perhaps articles and conjunctions and maybe even pronouns and certainly prepositions. And through this blog I shall lead my baseball team to glory."
But there was a problem. You may not recall, it may seem strange to your modern ears, but in April of 2004 our bullpen assed it up all over the place. And so Batgirl took her land and her hoe and her dream and started a competition called Bullpen Idol, and that competition would motivate this band of Fultzs and Mulhollands and Rincons and Romeros and Roas and Ball Fours and this new guy we got from the Giants who's supposed to be our closer, whatshisname, to new heights of glory, or at least less heights of assitude.
Times have changed and since Mr. Joe Nathan was crowned the winner of Bullpen Idol three years ago our pen has been our shining star. But this year the cracks started to show more clearly than Paula Abdul's Happy Happy Fun Drink habit and suddenly games have gone quickly asswards when we get to the pen and it isn't right, it isn't fair, because we have Juan Rincon, we have Joe Nathan, and isn't that enough? Isn't it?
Tonight, it was. Tonight, it worked just like it was supposed to, just like the halcyon days of the aftermath of Bullpen Idol. The President faltered—he does that sometimes to pretend he's human but we know the truth. Casey "We Get It, We Get It, We Let You Go And We’re Sorry" Blake and Pronkzilla and Perez took the lead away from us and our 4 run lead became a one run deficit. Ass! I cried. Whoever will save our president now?
Never fear. We have Juan Rincon, we have Joe Nathan, and that, my friends, is enough. It's the Vice President's job to take the place of the President if he should be unable to fulfill his duties, and boy howdy did he. Down went the Indians—one, two, three! Four, five, six! It was sizzling, it was Santana-esque, it was Nathan-esque, it was what earned him the Bullpen Idol crown in the first place and launched his storied political career! After Sunday's ass-arm performance, we needed someone to step up and show the kids how it was done.
And that's why you, Joe Nathan, are the Bullpen Idol. Now and 4-ever.
Ah, well, this isn't easy, and BG was all set to give this to the Veep because, well, HELLO! But we've had a lot of trouble converting this year and sometimes you just need someone to do the right thing at the right time because, you know, when that happens you score runs and sometimes even more runs than the other team which allows you to win the game which makes Batgirl happy, like for instance hitting a perfect sac fly in the tenth to score the winning run, which had the added benefit of allowing BG to go home because she was getting ever so sleepy but was not going to leave that game one second before it ended plus who the heck was going to pitch the next inning, I ask you? That's why you, Dr. Morneau, are the Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/The Field: 6; Batbaby/Torii: 5; Goober/ Dr. Morneau 4, Sooz/Stewie 2; Batgirl/Chairman 2; Jeb/Lewwww 1.
It seems many of BG's readers missed the exciting AJ-inspired Bitch Sox/Cubs brawl on Saturday at US Bitchular Field. This breaks BG's heart and as a service to her readers, she provides for you a reenactment, with Legos.
With the bases loaded, Brian Anderson steps up to the plate.
A sac fly! AJ Pierzynski takes off from third! There's going to be a play at the plate!
Crash! AJ barrels into catcher Michael Barrett! His hat goes flying off!
Safe! Unbridled joy causes AJ to smack home plate.
But my hat! AJ goes for it and bumps into Barrett...
Who punches him in the face.
You bastard! Pods cries, tackling Barrett, Not AJ! He's sensitive!
While the ump restrains Barrett, the benches clear.
Brian Anderson takes a swing at John Mabry, but misses.
The ump pulls Mabry away from Anderson while the crowd shouts, "Rowand would have had that!"
From the dugout, AJ surveys the scene. Animals! You're all animals!
A lot of people didn't believe Minnesota eventually would lose the Twins if a new stadium wasn't built for the team, but baseball Commissioner Bud Selig, ecstatic about the Legislature's favorable vote on the stadium bill, said it was close to happening...."I was nervous and we were coming close to the end," Selig said Sunday. "And if anybody thinks that was an idle threat, they were kidding themselves."
..."When [baseball financial consultant] Bob Starkey called me with the good news Sunday morning, I felt like I did when we got our stadium here [in Milwaukee]," Selig said. "That's how much it meant, because that's the last thing in the world anybody ever wanted to do, to think of no Twins in Minnesota."
Is that the last thing you wanted before or after contracting the team? Just checking.
Bud, really, shut up. No one likes you. The last thing we need is any reminders of your stadium strong-arm tactics. Go away, leave us alone, and let us enjoy our new stadium, because as much as BG wants and loves this new stadium, reminding us that we succumbed to your blackmail makes even BG throw up in her mouth a little bit.
1. The Miracle League is looking for donations of silent auction items for Miracle League Night at the St. Paul Saints (June 10). The Miracle League is devoted to helping children with physical and mental challenges play baseball in a league. They're looking good donation items from business and individuals--Eileen from the League says, "We're looking for all kinds of things, and thought that people who love baseball would be willing to contribute. Baseball people who do other things for a living --- maybe work in or own a restuarant and could donate a gift certificate, a baseball fan who gives hot air balloon rides, anything, really. A baseball fan with a ton of frequent flyer miles who would donate a trip or something." If anyone has something they'd like to donate to help this great cause, please e-mail Batgirl.
2. Portage for Youth, a St. Paul organization helping at-risk girls, is holding their Grand Slam Gala at the Dome on July 17:
If you've every wanted to throw out an opening pitch at a major league baseball game, this may be your chance. The Portage for Youth's Grand Slam Gala charity event is coming up Monday July 17th and one lucky gala attendee will be throwing out the first pitch! Twins catcher Joe Mauer and St. Paul Mayor Chris Coleman are honorary co-chairs for the event. It's a great opportunity to get good seats for a Twins game (lower reserve), enjoy free food and entertainment at the Dome before the game and support a very worthwhile organization... Order tickets by June 15th and you'll be entered in a drawing to throw out the opening pitch. Tickets are $45 and get you over $50 value (game ticket, catered meal, t-shirt, ticket holder lanyard, etc.) Pre-game event starts at 4:30 pm. Tickets are limited so order early. For more info or to order tickets, visit www.theportage.org or call (651) 772-8674.
3. Not a charity at all, but if you want to go to the June 11th game with Batgirl and a crowd of Batlings, Batgirl needs your check by Friday. E-mail her if you're interested.
No round-up this weekend, Batgirl's all Boof'ed out. In lieu, BG gives you her Blogger's Minute this week, from the Twins Magazine on WCCO.
It's been quite a week in the Twins clubhouse. With two of the starters demoted from the rotation, you have to wonder if Scott Baker and Brad Radke are watching their backs. It doesn't help that the demotions are getting progressively worse—with Silva in the bullpen and Lohse in Rochester, it's hard to even imagine what the fates have in store for the other two. You expect to wake up in the morning and find Baker has been demoted to Siberia or Purgatory, and that will leave nothing left for Radke but the 2nd through 9th levels of hell or, worse, Kansas City.
But of course one man's misfortunate is another man's spot in the starting rotation, and for the young pitchers in the Twins organization the struggles of the increasingly-less-Fab 5 must seem like the best Christmas present ever, even better than the Star Wars storm trooper blaster Francisco Liriano got last year from his mom. This weekend I think the average age of the pitchers was about 17 years old and the only worry is whether or not they'd be too distracted by the upcoming junior prom to focus on pitching to Carlos Lee. There's a lot of pressure in going to prom, after all, what with getting the tux rented and trying to remember the corsage and trying to convince your dad to let you use the Beemer even though you took it test driving that one time without his permission and got that itsy bitsy scratch on the door and got grounded for, like, ever and what's a scratch on the Beemer in the grand scheme of things and maybe Dad shouldn't be so hung up on the material, anyway. It's not like it's a Jaguar or something cool.
Anyway if these guys struggle, there's a whole organization full of young pitchers to take their place. Last year's first round pick Matt Garza lit up double A last week, and there are a few rookie league pitchers who might fit the bill. If that doesn't work, there's a kid on my 5 year old next door neighbor's t-ball team that's got a fierce arm. He's a shortstop, but so was Joe Nathan. When Joe Mauer's your battery's elder statesman, anything's fair game. It might sound crazy, but so's legally changing your name to Boof.
Legovision park is a reality. Batgirl's chiropractor bills are going to go wayyy down. I don't know if I ever thought this was actually going to happen but Batgirl for one is looking forward to catching opening day 2010 on a grass field with the sun overhead. (Though, frankly, she'd be pretty happy if someone chipped in for a retractable roof.) Lots of people have worked very hard for this, and Jerry Bell should be given some sort of medal of freedom, or at least a long nap. Batgirl hopes Shane at Greet Machine keeps up his excellent stadium blogging so we can follow the construction. As kw says in the comments below, "Twins 2010: Our Ass is Grass."
Meanwhile, bubblemint sends in this triumphant verse, to be sung to "We Are the Champions." She expects the whole front office to be singing it and dousing each other with beer and champagne today.
We’ve paid to go
Year after year
We’ve bought our tickets
And our Dome dogs & beer
We had no choice
Those Vikes made it clear
We’ve watched our baseball team play ‘neath a roof
But deliverance is near…
We will soon be seeing sun and clouds and birds and planes…
We’ll have a stadium, my friends
Yes, we kept on fighting to the end
We’ll have a stadium
We’ll have a stadium
It took forever,
But we’ll have a stadium …finally…
The Dome’s been our home
More than twenty four years
We have seen championship teams
And last place finishes
Triumphs and tears
Though our wait isn’t over
It’ll still take some time
But in a few years we’ll be watching Twins baseball under bright open skies
And the homeruns will fly on and on and on and on…
We’ll have a stadium, my friends
Yes, we kept on fighting to the end
We’ll have a stadium
We’ll have a stadium
It took forever,
But we’ll have a stadium …finally…
-bubblemint
Readers/The Field: 6; Batbaby/Torii: 5; Goober/ Dr. Morneau 3, Sooz/Stewie 2; Batgirl/Chairman 2; Jeb/Lewwww 1.
Aaron Gleeman's wonderful dog Sammi died earlier this week.
Batgirl's thoughts are with Aaron right now and his family. Batgirl's made a donation toMinnesota Boston Terrier Resuce in her name.
Well, goodness me. The BODSHC doesn't like doing this, it sets a dangerous precedent and she doesn't want to hear ANY whining another game about co-BODs, because it's not right, it's the boy-friend of the day not the boy-friends of the day. This isn't Utah. But BG clearly said early in the season--you hit a grand slam you get to be BOD, and she doesn't want to go back on her word because maybe next time someone will think--I WOULD hit a grad slam now except BG went back on her word so I really don't feel like it anymore. But at the same time--did you see Liriano? Did you? Really? Did you see him drive in a run? And pitch...AWESOME? You did? Then you understand why you, Francisco "Makes Me De"-liriano and you, T-Fat, are the co-Boyfriends of the Day.
Through Top Secret channels, Team Batgirl was able to obtain security camera footage from the Metrodome yesterday. It seems Kyle Lohse did, in fact, pay a little visit to Gardy's office after learning of his demotion. Unfortunately, due to the patent civil rights violation and the fact that Batgirl doesn't know how to do video capture, she can't post it here. Instead, she gives you a reenactment, with Legos.
Face contorted with hatred, Lohse gathers himself outside the office.
A practiced bash with his bat makes quick work of the office door.
As if in slow motion, Lohse approaches his target.
Take that you stupid chair!
Die, books, die!
Nearly blind with rage, Lohse topples the bookshelf.
You'll never log on to Batgirl again, Gardy!
Now more animal than man, Lohse busts up Gardy's desk.
How do you like my ERA now, bitch?
Mission accomplished, Lohse makes a final obscene gesture towards the camera.
BatNotes: if you want to go to the June 11 game, BG needs your check by the end of next week. Please email BG if you want to go.
Batling infield is part of a group doing the AIDS walk on Sunday and is holding a fundraiser yard and jewelry sale as part of the CARAG neighborhood yard sale. If you’d like to sponsor her in the AIDS walk visit her page.
Batgirl's close personal friend will be reading from The Shadow Thieves Friday night at 7pm at Barnes and Noble Maple Grove.
Twins at Detroit. Tigers 2, Twins 0.
The mood in the visiting clubhouse was grim before tonight's game. News of Kyle Lohse's demotion had spread quickly and the team was stunned.
"I just can’t believe Kyle's gone," muttered Torii Hunter
"I wonder how he took it," mused Little Nicky Punto.
"Did anyone see it happen?" asked Luis Castillo.
Silence over the Twins clubhouse, then a voice, in barely a whisper, could be heard. "I saw," breathed Michael Cuddyer.
One by one, the team looked over to the clubhouse corner, where Michael Cuddyer was huddled, his eyes wide, his face white as death. "I saw," repeated Cuddyer, voice quaking. "His eyes turned red and flames came spouting from his ears. He began to spin 'round, faster and faster he span until he was just the wind itself, but the wind was no summer wind filled with green grass and dew, no no, this wind blew death. It sucked the breath out of six hot dog vendors. The wretched souls suffocated, then dessicated, their remains sucked into the tornado of his rage—yes those men sold their last hot dog today."
"Oh no!" cried Dennys Sampler Reyes.
"Man," said Punto. "I guess he was pissed."
"It's true," breathed Lew Ford. "He made the plane to Rochester divert to the Dome, so he could beat on Gardy's door with a bat."
"How do you know that?" asked Rondell White.
"Oh, he called me on my cell afterwards. He says hi."
"Gosh," said Punto. "I feel really bad. I wish we could have done more for him."
"What could we have done?" asked Justin Morneau. "We scored four runs for him!"
"I know! Four runs! Last year he would have kissed us all for four runs!"
"He did!" said Ford, looking far away for a moment.
"You know…." mused Littly Nicky Punto, "Maybe that's the problem?"
The players turned to look at him. "What do you mean, Little Nicky Punto?" asked Shannon Stewart.
"Well," Little Nicky said, standing up (though no one noticed the difference) "last year the pitching staff was awesome right?"
"Si," said Juan Castro.
"And we sucked, right?"
"Si," said Castro.
"And this year we're pretty good but the pitching staff blows chunks, right?"
"I see what you're getting at!" exclaimed Ford. "Maybe the pitching staff's sucking is our fault. Maybe we're too good offensively!"
"Yeah!" agreed Mauer. "and Johan didn't win the Cy Young last year because of us!"
"Well," said Torii Hunter, jaw clenched, "We're not going to make that mistake again."
"No we're not!" agreed Morneau. "Come on guys, we've got to go out and suck!"
"Yeah!" yelled Ford.
"For the pitchers!" squealed Punto.
All across the clubhouse, the cries rang out. "For Johan! For Brad! For Carlos! For Nutty!"
"And for Lohse!" added Mike Redmond quietly.
The players gazed at each other intensely, fire in their eyes and their bellies. "That's right," whispered Hunter, eyes full of tears, "for Lohse."
Twins Press Release:
The Minnesota Twins announced today that they have optioned righthanded pitcher Kyle Lohse to Rochester (AAA, International League). In eight starts this season, Lohse was 2-4, 8.92 (38.1 ip, 38 er), allowing 57 hits with 19 walks and 24 strikeouts.
To replace Lohse on the 25-man roster, the Twins have recalled righthanded pitcher Boof Bonser from Rochester. In eight starts with the Red Wings, Bonser was 3-2, 2.01
(49.1 ip, 11 er), allowing 33 hits with 20 walks and 47 strikeouts. Bonser will meet the team in Milwaukee on Friday and is scheduled to make his Major League debut as the starting
pitcher on Sunday.
BG sure doesn't want to be Gardy's door right now. Poor Kyle. Here's hoping he can fix what ails him. Meanwhile--let the Boof Bonser era begin!
Thanks to infield for the scoop.
This email was intercepted by the NSA and forwarded to BG, who has level one security clearance. Thanks GenH!
To: Ron Gardenhire (NoNoNellie@aol.com)
From: Terry Ryan (IBrake4UtilityInfielders@comcast.net)
Subject: Proposed Pitching Rotations
Priority: Urgent
Gardy...Let me know what you think!..xxxooo TR
Option 1
Day #1: El Presidente
Day #2: Liriano
Day #3: El Presidente
Day #4: Liriano
Day #5: El Presidente (problem, El P back-to-back starts?)
Option 2
Day #1: El Presidente
Day #2: Liriano
Day #3: T-Fat (Lots of potential!)
Day #4: Dan Gladden (Not bad in '89)
Day #5: Jim Thome (…Hey, maybe we should trade for him?)
Option 3
Day #1: El Presidente
Day #2: Liriano
Day #3: Mr. Winkles (pro: amulet of keen, con: gnome)
Day #4: BatMom (pro: lefty! con: smokes catnip)
Day #5: Meryl Streep (so versatile!)
Option 4
Day #1: El Presidente
Day #2: Liriano
Day #3: Radke
Day #4: Lohse
Day #5: Baker
j/k!!!!!!!!!! LOL!!!! : )
Option 5:
Day #1: El Presidente
Day #2: Liriano
Day #3: Blyleven (pro: good curveball, con: adverbs)
Day #4: Mudcat Grant (pro: good singer, con: needs cane)
Day #5: Walter Johnson (pro: lots of strikeouts, con: dead)
Page 2 has some recommendations for the Twins stadium...
Chicago at Twins. Bitch Sox 7, Twins 3.
When Ron Gardenhire arrived at the Dome—slightly late due to his annual Ma Ingalls Day After Mother's Day Annual Brunch—he walked into his office, took one look, and walked right toward the clubhouse bellowing, "LEW!"
Lew Ford looked around. "Me?"
"Yes, Lew. You," said Gardy, appearing in the doorway. "Could you come here a moment?"
"Uh...sure..."
With trepidation, Lew Ford followed as the manager stalked back down the corridor to his office. When they got to the doorway, Gardy motioned grandly towards his desk. "Do you know anything about this?"
"Oh," Lew said. Sitting on Gardy's desk chair was a diminutive creature with a white beard and red hat happily chomping on a line-up card. Lew looked around. "…Maybe."
"Get him OUT!" yelled Gardy, turning a lovely shade of magenta.
A moment later, Ford was dragging the creature out into the hallway. "I told you not to go in Gardy's office," he hissed.
"What was I supposed to do?" the creature hissed back. "I was hungry!"
"You are such a—"
The two appeared in the clubhouse door, arguing with each other, while one by one the players stopped to stare at Ford's companion. "Ford!" said Kyle Lohse. "What the hell is that?"
"I think it's an elf," said Scott Baker, scratching his head.
Ford's eyes grew wide. "Man, I wish!" he exclaimed. "Elves are spellcasters!"
"Oh, like you'd know what to do with an elf," the creature said to Ford. Ford scrunched up his face and glared in response.
"I believe that's a gnome," announced Rondell White.
"Yeah," sighed Ford. "He's a gnome. They're pretty much worthless."
"Hey!" said the gnome.
"Well, it's TRUE!" said Ford.
A small crowd gathered around the bickering pair. "LewLew, what's he doing here?" asked Brad Radke.
"Oh," Lew said with a heavy sigh, "Corri won't let him stay at home. I had to put him somewhere."
"Yeah, but Lew…why do you have an elf?"
"Gnome," corrected White.
"Oh!…well, I was playing Warcraft one night and I fell asleep with my forehead on the keyboard. I don't know what I pressed but next thing I knew, Mr. Winkles was sitting next to me eating my copy of Yoda: Dark Rendezvous."
"Oh," said Radke. "Mr. Winkles?"
"At your service!" enthused the gnome, taking a bow. "Would you like a hug?"
"I…well, sure…"
Just then, Terry Ryan walked into the clubhouse, humming the Nutty tune to himself. When he saw Mr. Winkles, he stopped short.
"What the hell is that?" Ryan asked.
"He's a gnome," said Ford. "He came out of my computer from Warcraft and started eating all my Robert Jordan books and Corri said he couldn't stay and so I put him in my locker and made a nice little nest for him...which I didn't have to do--I could have just put him out on the street--but he went into Gardy's office even though I told him not to and now Gardy's mad at me again and—"
"Can he pitch?" interrupted Ryan.
"Uh…" said Ford, stopping short. "I don't know...He's got Shield Bash."
"Great," said Ryan. "He starts tomorrow."
*******
Nutty sez: Hi Boys and Girls! Did you like today's entry? That Mr. Winkles sure is crazy! Poor Lew Ford having someone follow him around like that! Scott Baker had a rough time today and I thought it would cheer everyone up to hear Nutty: the Remix! This was made by mbennett, one of the fabulous diarists at Twinkie Town. Thanks, mbennett! I sure enjoyed recording the voice for your phat remix!
Chicago at Twins. Weekend Round-Up.
Friday. Twins 10, Bitch Sox 1.
Saturday. Twins 8, Bitch Sox 4.
Sunday. Bitch Sox 9, Twins 7.
There are dark forces at work here, my friends, dark forces indeed. For one thing is perfectly clear after this weekend of baseball—the Twins are locked in an immortal struggle for their very souls, an epic battle between Manichean opposing principles—good/evil, light/dark, sucking/not sucking. There were simply two different teams on Sunday night—the first, bathed in halos and lights and awesomeness, responded to a three-run first by scoring seven runs in the bottom of the inning. The Twins played pinball with the Bitch Sox infield, and then capitalized when their defense went TILT—Boom, Boom, Boom! Basehits everywhere, again and again, take that and that and that, Your mommy never loved you Mark Buehrle!
Ah, how beautiful it was. What we should have remembered is: the thing with beauty is, it's fleeting by nature. Just try to capture it, to keep it for your own—pick a rose, pin a butterfly, cage a bird, lure a shirtless Johan Santana into your velvet-walled, leather-floored basement lair and trap him in there and force him to do your bidding, except on some days when it's more fun for you to do his bidding, and you'll find the very quality you so lusted after has been lost (except Johan's). The next thing you know Silva's faltering, the Bitch Sox are rallying and there's Jim Thome, always there's Jim Thome, every second batter he's there, our offseason dream turned into our worst nightmare. And the Twins—what happened to the Twins? The first inning they play defense like a poem and then Boot! Boot! Boot! and we are through the funhouse mirror and there are evil twins all over the place booting the ball and Jim Thome rounds the bases and rounds them some more and we brought it on ourselves because virtue is rewarded and evil is punished, punished like Luis-Castillo-hitting-into-a-triple-play punished...and that crap doesn't happen by accident. (And, really, as bad as it was—did we deserve that? Did we? Really?) Suddenly we couldn't convert anymore and we'd get runners on and find new and exciting ways to strand them and by the end of the game we'd left everyone and BatMom on base. And poor BatMom, she hates being left on base, it gets so cold and lonely and it's Mother's Day after all and she deserves better, she really does. It's not her fault one twin turned out so good and the other so very, very bad.
The point is, sooner or later the two Twins are going to come head to head, are going to have a knockdown drag out battle for the soul of the team. Of course, only one will be left standing. Whichever one it is, let's hope someone hits him home.
BatNote: Kudos to Torii and the rest of the boys for swinging those pink bats. They looked good on you, guys. Brad Radke's mom would be proud.
Have you ever really considered how wonderful it is just to be alive? Really, life is a precious gift, a glorious, glorious gift filled with such wonders as flowers and birdies and children's laughter. But that's totally beside the point, which is how incredibly awesome tonight's game was. Sure, there was some pain—like the 4-run deficit, but what does a four run deficit bother the greatest offensive powerhouse of our time? Throw a dart and you could hit a BOD (though, actually, don't, please…) Castillo, the Chairman, Sweetcheeks for that 2-out basehit to make the game 4-3. But Batgirl's giving this one to the good Doctor who did just what he was supposed to do—turn a deficit into a lead from which the Twins would never look back. (Not to mention a stolen base.) Situational hitting, that's all the Twins do, like I've always said, and that makes you, Dr. Morneau, the Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/The Field: 5; Batbaby/Torii: 5; Goober/ Dr. Morneau 3, Sooz/Stewie 2; Jeb/Lewwww 1, Batgirl/JoeJoe 1
Apparently some Twins are reluctant to use the pink bats tomorrow.
Major League Baseball is usually very strict about the color of the bats players use, but there was a big exception made as the league tries to help raise awareness for breast cancer on Mother's Day.Players have been given the option of using a pink bat for Sunday's games only, along with ribbons and pink wristbands that are available for the cause. But the question remains as to whether any of the Twins that ordered the pink bats will actually use them in the game.
Hunter took his bat out of the box on Friday and gasped a little at the sight. Not a true fan of the color pink, Hunter was unsure whether the bat would be coming out on Sunday, but made sure that he would celebrate the day in some way.
"It would be tough for me to swing a pink bat," Hunter said. "I know it's for a good cause, and I'll donate a bat or anything. But I don't know if I can swing it for a good cause. I'm going to wear something pink, though."
Batgirl's got a word for all of you Twins whose sense of masculinity is too fragile to use a pink bat, and it's a word Brad Radke's Mom recently called him. No one wants that.
Ooooooh, Batgirl is giddy. Did you see Johan? Really? Wasn't it hott? Oh, and you remember all the scoring? All of it? Really? Because there was so much it's hard to remember. I mean the doctor went yard and all Cuddy does is hit doubles and Castillo is Cast-sweet-o. And of course there was the Chairman, quietly excelling. That's what the Chairman does, and that's why he doesn't have one of these things yet—he's just been steadily good all season, setting the table for others' heroics, being awesome, and tonight he caught El Presidente's gem and turned the score into a laugher with his two run dinger and late inning single, and that just makes BG so very, very happy, you can't imagine how happy it makes her, and it's about time he won one of these things, and the Old Skool catcher's hat rocks the freakin' house and milk does a BOD-y good, and that's why you, Joe Mauer, are the Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/The Field: 5; Batbaby/Torii: 5; Sooz/Stewie 2; Goober/Dr. Morneau: 2; Jeb/Lewwww 1, Batgirl/JoeJoe 1
Absolutely most importantly, apparently, at Twins Unplugged last night Little Nicky Punto revealed that he wears a green Speedo under his uni when the team is doing well. a) Batgirl is thrilled with the number of readers who emailed her to tell her that, because that is exactly the sort of thing that makes Batgirl's life worth living and b) a guaranteed B.O.D. to the Twin who gets BG a picture of THAT.
Now, to the media:
From the Onion: Great But Lesser Known Homeruns (courtesy of BadAndy48)
Circle Me Bert...in JAIL (from Michelle)
Uniwatch Takes on Bling (from Wonder Woman)
Newly Engaged jclund gives us the "All Mouthful Team"
If you want to come to the June 11th game, please email Batgirl. Tickets are $15 and she needs your check by the 26th.
Twins at Texas. Twins 4, Rangers 3.
Before the game, Kyle Lohse stood in the middle of the clubhouse looking confused.
"What is it, Kyle?" asked NBP.
"I don't know," Lohse said, looking around. "There's like a breeze somewhere or something?"
"Huh," said NBP. "I don't feel it."
"It's weird," said Lohse. "Everywhere I go I feel this, like…wind."
"Huh," said NBP.
A few minutes later, Joe Mauer came by dressed snappily in Perry Ellis, to find Lohse turning around slowly, looking at something just behind him.
"Lohse, what are you doing?" Mauer asked, taking a big chug of his strawberry Grip N' Go.
"Do you feel that? That wind? It's like…following me."
"Uh….no."
"Huh.
A few minutes later, Juan Rincon came by to find Lohse turning back and forth 180 degrees, facing one wall, then the other. "Lohse! Que Pasa? Tu eres loco?"
"No," said Lohse. "It's just there's this weird breeze right behind me. Every time I turn around, it's still behind me…"
"Oh," said Rincon. "That's just Francisco Liriano breathing down your neck."
"Oh!" Lohse said. "Really?"
"Si!" said Rincon. "Didn't you know he was there? It's pretty hard not to notice."
With that, Lohse went over to the clubhouse mirror. He inched in next to Brad Radke who was working a thick sweet smelling pomade into his hair, only to look at his reflection and find that Cisco was, indeed, breathing down his neck.
"Huh," Lohse said. "You'd think I would have noticed that. What do I do about it?"
"Um…" said Rincon, thinking hard. "I don't know. Pitch bueno?"
"Right!" exclaimed Lohse. "Pitch bueno. I'll try it, thanks!"
So, Lohse strode to the mound with new purpose today as Francisco Liriano's hot breath warmed the back of his neck. "I've got to pitch bueno," he muttered to himself, "and get this guy off my $@*?!#& neck." And the funny thing was it worked—Lohse started the game well and Liriano retreated. But then Lohse would begin to falter, Rangers would get on base and threaten and there Liriano was again, breathing, breathing, breathing. "Crap!" Lohse would say. "Pitch bueno!"
And then he would, he would pitch bueno again, and Liriano would retreat, and it was really bueno because these are not the Kansas City Royals, mis amigos, to whom leaving RISP is as natural as breathing, these are the Texas Rangers and they are good at hitting the baseball. But Lohse kept them quiet; with the help of Cisco, Lohse was able to find himself again, was able to keep the Rangers in control and give the Twins another actual real live series victory and even--dare I say--hope. And that is bueno indeed.
Come to a game with Batgirl: Details here.
More Random Links from Goober. Webhamster. (Music will play.)
I don't know guys, this is a tough one. When 2 of your runs come from grounding into double plays and one from a guy getting beaned with the bases loaded, it's hard to really reward excellence. Really only one of our runs today came on a real live base hit—Sweetcheeks' insurance single in the seventh to score LNP. You know the thing about insurance? Sometimes you really go back and forth on whether or not to get it and then you do and something bad happens and you say, "Wow, I'm so glad I got that insurance." Like, say, when Boo loses his mind and turns a three run lead into a one run lead, and then suddenly that insurance run becomes your lifeblood, and that makes you, Torii Hunter, the Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/The Field: 5; Batbaby/Torii: 5; Sooz/Stewie 2; Goober/Dr. Morneau: 2; Jeb/Lewwww 1, Batgirl/JoeJoe 0
Twins at Texas. Twins 15, Rangers 5.
I don't know, you guys. This is a little embarrassing but, well, as you know Batgirl's a little under the weather, in other words her throat hurts like a 33-1 series loss and there's a whole Grip and Go jug full of mucus in her nose and she feels like Dennys Sampler Reyes has been rolling back and forth over her chest after eating several Dennys Samplers and so at times like this a (bat) girl needs a little chemical assistance, because she has serious duties, blogging duties, and neither rain nor sleet nor a nose-load of snot can keep her from recapping the game, except for weekends and also yesterday and maybe some other times, too. But the point is there are many fine products out there to help a girl out during times like this, and not all of them can be used to make meth. (And speaking of that, Batgirl and Jeb did their real estate disclosures the other day and you have to fill out a whole form about whether or not you have a meth lab on your property. Which Batgirl and Jeb do not, but even if you do—how many people who have meth labs in their houses are actually going to feel compelled to disclose it? But, anyway, you also have to disclose whether or not there are any human remains—if that nice family in Poltergeist had only checked their disclosures, none of that might have happened—but you don't have to disclose whether or not the house is haunted. And, frankly, pretty much the first thing BG wants to know when she buys a house is, Um, hey, is this haunted? Meth lab is probably seventh or eighth between dog pee pee spot and black hole.)
Anyway, one of those fine (bat) girl-helping products is Theraflu. Theraflu has saved BG's life on many an occasion and she heartily recommends it to anyone with a cold, flu, or who just needs a quick lemon-flavored pick me up to help them get through the day. And every time she's taken it before, it's helped a good deal and she's had no side effects...no side effects at all, except for maybe a little logorrhea, but otherwise perfectly fine. What she means to say is never before has she hallucinated.
Don't get me wrong. These hallucinations were awesome. I mean, our line-up? You should see what they can do when you're hopped up on Phenylephrine. First, Li'l Rod leads off, which is sort of adorable in Holy-God-The-Red-Wings-Are-Our-Only-Hope kind of way. And then, well, he gets a hit. And then Mauer walks and Sweetcheeks gets a hit and Cuddles doubles (ooh, that's fun to say. Cuddles doubles, cuddles doubles, cuddles doubles…) and the doctor goes BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! and next thing you know there are five runs and we've batted all around the mulberry bush and the crazy thing is we're not done yet. The Twins keep hitting, Cuddles keeps doubling, Sweetcheeks draws a walk, Lew Fordwalker makes a balletic catch, and Rondell White gets not one but two two two glorious hits in one game and we score more runs and more and even more! That makes fifteen runs if you're counting, and Batgirl can barely count that high, especially all hopped up on Theraflu, but you know what? It doesn't matter. If this is a dream, it's a beautiful dream and I'll drink Theraflu tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow to live in this beautiful dream again and the point is I can't recap the real game because I don't know what happened in the game you watched and maybe I don't even want to know because my game ruled. Or, as Bert Blyleven said in the game reset, "Six runs in the first inning really set the tone of this ballgame."
And how!
I was feelin' . . . so bad,
I asked my family doctor just what I had,
I said, "Doctor, . . .
(Doctor . . .)
Mr. M.D., . . .
(Doctor . . .)
Now can you tell me, tell me, tell me,
What's ailin' me?"
(Doctor . . .)
He said, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yes, indeed, all you really need . . .
(Good Lovin')
Is me to hit the ball many many moose antlers out of the park and get six RBIs in one game.
Yeah!"
Readers/The Field: 5; Batbaby/Torii: 4; Sooz/Stewie 2; Goober/Dr. Morneau: 2; Jeb/Lewwww 1, Batgirl/JoeJoe 0
Batgirl's getting group tickets for the Sunday, June 11 game to belatedly celebrate her birthday (which is on Cupcake Day). Tickets are in 141. Batgirl will be purchasing the tickets the last week in May, so if you want tickets you must pay Batgirl by May 26.
Send Batgirl a check. Tickets are $15 a piece. E-mail BG for details.
No recap tonight, Batgirl's got some horrible cold and can't seem to see through all her congestion to type. It's too bad, because she's pretty sure she saw ESPN's sideline reporter fondling Kameron Loe's boa constrictor, which apparently spent the game in the locker room, and you just know that thing went after Little Nicky Punto.
Detroit at Twins. Weekend Round-Up.
Friday, Tigers 9, Twins 6.
Saturday, Twins 7, Tigers 6.
Sunday, Twins 4, Tigers 2.
Italy, 79 AD
Dick: Gee, Bert, we sure haven't seen a volcano in some time.
Bert: That's right Dick. In fact, I think Mount Vesuvius has gone six whole innings without erupting!
Dick: Six whole innings? That's amazing.
Bert: I know. Six whole innings!
Dick: Is it warm in here?
Europe, 1347
Dick: That's a really nice rat you have there Bert!
Bert: Yes. Mostly he likes it when I lick him.
Dick: Good thing rats aren't disease bearing!
London, 1666
Dick: This is sure the greatest city in the world!
Bert: Yes, all the buildings so close together make it so you can really get to know your neighbors.
Dick: With such narrow streets...if there were ever a fire it would sure travel quickly!
Bert: You're so funny, Dick.
San Francisco, 1906
Dick: Has it ever occurred to you that most of this city is built on sandy landfill?
Bert: Huh. Really?
Dick: Also, there's a major fault line nearby the city!
Bert: That's funny. You know, if the tectonic plate ever decided to shift, that sure would be trouble.
Dick: Yes, it's a good thing that that hasn't happened yet.
Bert: Did you hear something?
Atlantic Ocean, 1912
Dick: Goodness, I sure love ocean travel. Isn't this new luxury liner amazing?
Bert: Yeah, it was really built good. I hear it's unsinkable!
Dick: Good thing they didn't overstock it with lifeboats. That would really weigh it down.
Bert: Is it cold in here all of a sudden?
United States, 1918.
Dick: You know what? I really think we've got that Spanish flu conquered!
United States, 1952.
Bert: Also, polio!
Chernobyl, 1986
Dick: Damn, that nuclear power sure is safe!
San Francisco, 1989
Bert: Hey, there hasn't been a major earthquake here in a long time!
Today
Dick: Wow, Bert, Johan Santana has a no hitter through six innings.
Bert: A no hitter?
Dick: A no hitter! Isn't that amazing?
Bert: Wow, I really hope someone doesn’t jinx him.
Now excuse Batgirl. She needs a shower.
Readers/The Field: 5; Batbaby/Torii: 4; Sooz/Stewie 2; Goober/Justin: 1; Jeb/Lewwww 1, Batgirl/JoeJoe 0
You sort of thought we might win when Jesse Crain mowed down the Tigers (i.e. The Best Baseball Team Ever) in the eighth. There was just something in the air and let's face it, there hasn't been something in the air for a really really long time. And even though the Twins couldn't convert at the bottom of the inning Boo Berry Rincon stepped up and kept the momentum going. And then, oh! The situational hitting! The scoring, the merciless, beautiful scoring! You know what? If you make a huge bonehead bobble to give up a run and then pay penance by hitting in the tying run on a triple in the ninth and scoring the winning run right afterwards, well, you are forgiven my son. Because we beat the Tigers! We beat the Tigers! Thank God Almighty! We Beat the Tigers! And that makes you, Shannon Stewart, Boyfriend of the Day.
Li'L-Rod really likes to win.
Readers/The Field: 4; Batbaby/Torii: 4; Sooz/Stewie 2; Goober/Justin: 1; Jeb/Lewwww 1, Batgirl/JoeJoe 0
With Batmom and Batdad baysitting Batbaby, Team Batgirl heads out under the teflon sky for a game of baseball.
Lego Batgirl watches Carlos Silva's fine pitching.
Lego Goober: I ran out of room.
Dougie leads off from first.
Lego Batgirl: Huh, Dougie still pulls out his back pockets when he's on offense.
Lego Batgirl: Why do you think he does that?
Lego Jeb: Hmm, I'm not sure. It wouldn't seem to lend to aerodynamics.
Lego Batgirl: If anything, you'd think it'd create drag...
Lego Batgirl: ...ass-drag.
Lego Jeb: I agree, Batgirl, I wonder if Dougie is aware of that. If only we could measure it, we could warn him. Hmm, the magnitude of the drag will depend on the viscosity of the atmosphere in which he's playing... and I'd like to arrive at a Reynolds number by measuring the degree to which the flow is laminar or turbulent. Hmm, if only we could explain to him that the exposed pockets will increase both the wake and energetic eddies...
Lego Batgirl: Or we could yell, "Hey Dougie, careful for ass-drag!"
The seventh inning stretch arrives.
Lego Suz: Um, there's no way we're not going to score against these guys, right?
Huh.
Kansas City at Twins. Twins 6, Royals 1
Was it going to be different tonight? Did Johan's performance last night restore all balance to the universe and give the pitching staff permission not to suck? (Which, really, Batgirl would have done ages ago, if someone had only asked.) We couldn't tell as Bradke took the mound tonight. We prepared to watch as we watch all of his first innings, with our hands in front of our eyes, ready to gouge them out at the first sign of trouble. And the first two batters worked him and worked him good, but Radke won each battle. Then there was the single and, oh yes, we had danced this dance before. Next would be a double, next a home run just past the right field foul pole, ba ding ba dang ba damn, a 3-run deficit. But not tonight, ladies and gentlemen, because tonight Brad Radke had a plan. Pitching Inside the plan was called. Clearly, his mother watched the game on Friday night and clearly she heard Bert Blyleven ranting about the Twins sissified treatment of the inside corner and clearly she called up her son and said, "Bradley, Snookums, Bert says you are being a big pussy." And clearly Brad did not take well to his mother calling him a pussy. And so, when Matt Stairs strode up to the plate with one on and two out, he cast a glance over to the dugout and meet El Presidente's eyes, and El Presidente nodded at him steelily and Bradke nodded back and then—one, two, three strikes you're out. Sit down, bitch.
The next inning—and, oh, this year when the first inning doesn't kill you the second does—and Douglas Mientkiewicz and his luscious long locks lined a 1-2 pitch for a double, and our hands slowly crept up to our faces again. But no, no, because Brad Radke is Pitching Inside and Emil Brown is sitting down and Mark Teahan is sitting down and suddenly there is fire in Radke's eyes. Yes, yes it says, This is how it should be. Yes, yes, it says, tonight I am in command.
Every inning, the fire burned more brightly, every inning he strode on and off the mound with utter surety, utter clarity, utter focus, utter kickassedness. Smoke is coming off of him by the fifth inning and Rick Anderson wants to douse him because surely that can't be healthy but Wayne Hattaway says, "No, son, there is nothing we can do for him now." And when it is finally over, when Radke has pitched inside to the tune of 7 innings, 4 hits, 1 run, 7 strikeouts, when he is in the clubhouse and the lockers around him burst into flames, melting all of Lew Ford's Star Wars guys, Brad Radke calls up his mother and says, "I am Brad Radke, and I am not dead yet."
Well, this could probably go to Joe Joe or Stewie or Bradley, a tough choice really, but--can you say no to this face?
BatBabies dig the long ball. And that's why you, Torii Hunter, are the Boyfriend of the Day.
Readers/The Field: 4; Batbaby/Torii: 4; Goober/Justin: 1; Jeb/Lewwww 1, Sooz/Stewie 1, Batgirl/JoeJoe 0
Seattle at Twins. Twins 5, Mariners 1.
Short, short tonight. Batgirl and Jeb spent the evening at the Dakota listening to Cyrus Chestnut and James Carter rock the freakin' house. Mr. Carter wore a red silk suit with black pinstripes and Batgirl thinks everyone should have one of those, especially Mr. Johan K. Santana, who would look mighty fine, Batgirl thinks, in such a suit. We almost saw it, too; apparently the quartet's drummer dropped out due to a profound case of existential despair and Mr. Chestnut called Mr. Santana and asked him to play the drums for them tonight. And Johan said, "Oh, Cyrus, there is nothing I would like more than to lend the rhythm to your funkarhythmia, for your jazz music stirs the fire in my blood and I play drums like I make love, which is to say excellently, but you see Cyrus—I have a game to pitch."
Oh, yes, Johan Santana had a game to pitch. Enough of these off-season cobwebs, this World PP Classic hangover, because his team needs him even more than Cyrus Chestnut did, because they have been very very very bad at baseball, and what we needed was someone to step up and—well, stop sucking.
And the Twins followed—there were hits, palpable hits, RBIs by Punto and Hunter and White and timely Morneau and Mauer hits and balls dropping in front of people and four whole runs in one inning. Sure, Jarrod Washburn sat down something like 16 Twins in a row, but you know what? It doesn't matter. If you recall from last season Batgirl was quite clear—we can strike out, pop out, foul out, ground out as many times as we want as long as we score four runs a game. This all seemed like a perfect strategy at the time because how many times is the Twins pitching staff going to give up five runs a game, huh?
Huh?
But tonight, four runs was an orgy of excess, because tonight we were in the hands of Mr. Johan Santana who strode up to the mound in his red silk suit, under which he wore absolutely nothing at all, and he said, Hello. I am in charge. The adults are here now, we are in control, and I pitch like I make love, which is to say, totally awesomely, and I am Johan Santana, and I am here to make you sit down.
Ummm….huh. Does anyone remember how this thing works? Batgirl never thought she'd see one of these again and as a result moved the intricate and extensive BOD rules out of her mind in favor of things like her frequent flyer numbers and the crisis number hotline. She's not entirely sure, of course, but this B.O.D. seems to be some kind of strange "player of the day" with some people weighted more than others. But strangely none of those people are Johan K. Santana. Weird. Because obviously Mr. Santana is the only thing separating the Twins (not to mention Batgirl) from oblivion. Sure, his April wasn't so good, but we knew that, we're used to that. All that matters is that Johan is back now, sitting down the bitches and keeping them off the basepaths and keeping this band of Whiffy McStrikeoutPantses in the game, and that, Johan Santana, makes you the Boyfriend of the Day.
Seattle at Twins. Mariners 8, Twins 2.
[Please view Nutty Opening Credits]
Hello, boys and girls! I'm Nutty, the Athletic Cup! I was born inside Scott Baker's pants one day, now I float around and I have a lot to say!
Today, I want to talk to you about double entendres. Do you know what a double entendre is boys and girls? It's a French phrase, except in the French you say double sens. Isn't that nutty? In French, you might think my name is Nutty, Le Cup D'Athletique, but really it's Jean Paul: Le Protecteur de Pee Pee. It's just like my dad always said, "Oh, Nutty, those French are sure crazy sons of bitches."
Well, anyway, double means two. It can also mean a hit that allows the batter to gain two bases but I think that might be a painful issue right now, and Nutty doesn't want to cause anyone pain. A double entendre is something which has a double meaning and can often be used for humor. Like my name. Nutty! Nutty because I'm a little nutty and also because I kind of look like a Brazil nut. Get it? It's funny!
So, I'm about to make a joke, boys and girls, are you ready?
Ha! Get it? May Day? Nutty cracks himself up sometimes! This is funny because it's May Day! And I'm saying Mayday! And not "May Day" like workers-of-the-world-unite May Day. Nutty himself isn't so sure about socialist stuff. I really believe in sharing, don't get me wrong. Sharing is good, boys and girls. But Nutty's Uncle Knackers tried to form a union once. He and all the other athletic cups went on strike once during the annual Pickersgill family reunion rugby game and the Pickersgill line died out pretty soon after that, and there was no annual rugby game anymore. Talk about cutting off your nuts to spite your face!
So, boys and girls, in the picture above, Nutty is saying May Day! because it's May Day, but also like the pilots do when they've been shot and they're plummeting rapidly to earth while their plane is being torn apart and consumed by the relentless flames of a searing inferno, and they scream Mayday! Mayday! into their radios as if anyone can stop them from dying a hideous, excruciating death. And that's funny because of how bad the Twins are!
Did you know "Mayday" actually comes from the French too? It's really "M'Aidez," which means, "For the love of god help me because I have to watch this train wreck from my front row seat strapped to Scott Baker's nads!" I don't really know why the French have a word for that, but it sure comes in handy, boys and girls, it sure does.
See you next week!
For Nutty! t-shirts, please see the BatStore!
(The white shirts have the lyrics on the back, the black shirts are plain.)
Some items of BatBusiness as we (finally) roll into a new month:
KC, Justin Morneau's lovely girlfriend, will be doing the Twin Cities Breast Cancer walk. If you would like to support her and make a donation to fight breast cancer, please visit her home page. BG hopes she'll be wearing her "I Make the Doctor Breakfast" t-shirt.
Want to rent a Twins luxury box? Batgirl's got a line on someone with a discount. Prices start at $1000 for a sixteen person suite. Email Batgirl if you're interested.
It's less than five weeks 'til Batgirl's birthday! But of course, you knew that. Batgirl would like to end her annual week of Birthday festivities by seeing a game with a group of Batlings and is going to look into getting group tickets for the June 11th game against Baltimore. To sit in the Home Run Porch tickets would be $15. Please email Batgirl or comment below if you're interested so she can get an idea of numbers.
In August, through no fault of Batgirl's, Batgirl, Jeb, and the Batkitties 3 will be up and moving to Amherst, Massachusetts for one year. They have no baseball in Amherst. They do, however, have cable television and MLB Extra Innings, which Batgirl will be purchasing promptly, and of course Batgirl will be bringing her BlogTron 3000. But if as the summer goes on the blog moves to rantings about hiring movers and putting things in boxes and driving cross country with BatKitties in the BatPrius, you will forgive her. Batgirl wll be back a lot, and will be throwing herself some Twins related party before she goes.