Texas at Twins. Twins 15, Texas 2.
Okay, so Batgirl's in the process of moving and her life is filled with boxes and packing tape (That would be 3M Tear-by-Hand Packing Tape, The Official Box-Closing Adhesive of Batgirl's Move) and strange piles of stuff and random bouts of self-hatred (What are these things under my bed and how did they get there and why have I kept them and which batkitty puked on them and how long ago and does anyone know how to get two-year-old batkitty puke off of wedding pictures?) We can't eat because we've packed all of our dishes. We can't sleep because there are no sheets. The BatTiVo is packed, the BatInternet is off, and the BatKitties Three have been shuffled off to Casa BatParents for a few days where they can puke on someone else's stuff.
The point is, Batgirl is in sore need off a happy place, and that happy place looked quite a bit like Sunday's eighth inning six-run rally. After trying all weekend to mount a decent comeback something clicked; the previously infallible Tigers started to puke all over their stuff, and while the Twins lost the series, they found themselves again. Surely they could carry that momentum and inspiration onto tonight's game with the Rangers, couldn't they?
Couldn’t they?
Well, yes. Apparently, they could. The Twins came out full of vim and fire and Jedi mind tricks and happy places tonight, from Little "Nicky" Punto to Torii "Sweetcheeks" Hunter to Josh "Dinger" Rabe to, well, pretty much the whole damned line-up. The Twins were inspired, all right, they inspired the crap out of the ball tonight, and the Rangers saw their juggernaut coming and immediately cowered behind their ass-gloves. Carlos Lee made any Twins fan who mourned not getting him in a trade feel much, much better, while Carlos Silva proved he does very well with a 14 run lead.
Batgirl doesn't have too much to say, here, she's running on tape fumes and DQ Blizzards, except that triples are hottt, scoring 15 runs is fun, and she would like to politely suggest that the momentum from Sunday carry us straight through the next Tigers series. For that would be a happy place, indeed.
Welcome back, Sweetcheeks….
Goober/Doctor 19; Readers/The Field 17; Batbaby/Torii 9; Batgirl/Chairman 7; Sooz/(Cuddy) 5; Jeb/ (Silva) 3.
(BG is extra-busy this week, so infield has been designated TradeSpotter...)
MINNEAPOLIS -- The Twins and the Reds finalized a trade on Monday that sent right-handed pitcher Kyle Lohse to Cincinnati in exchange for Minor League right-handed pitcher Zach Ward.
Lohse was 2-5 with a 7.07 ERA in 22 appearances for the Twins this season. A member of the Twins rotation at the start of the year, Lohse made eight starts before being demoted to Triple-A Rochester on May 17 after going 2-4 with an 8.92 ERA.
Twins general manager Terry Ryan had been shopping Lohse to other clubs since the demotion. Lohse rejoined the club as a reliever in early June but problems between him and the organization made him a clear trade target as the trade deadline approached.
Ward, 22, went 7-0 with a 2.29 ERA and 95 strikeouts in 20 appearances -- 18 starts -- this season with the Class A Dayton Dragons of the Midwest League. Ward was the Reds' third-round selection in the 2005 First-Year Player Draft.
The trade was also the second this season between Ryan and Reds general manager Wayne Krivsky, a former assistant GM for the Twins.
The Twins are expected to use the open roster spot for Torii Hunter's return from the 15-day disabled list prior to their game against the Rangers on Monday night.
Detroit at Twins. Weekend Round-Up.
Friday. Tigers 3, Twins 2. (10 innings)
Saturday. Tigers 8, Twins 6.
Sunday. Twins 6, Tigers 4.
Please note: There will be no spoilers in this recap, as Batgirl has not seen The Lady in the Water on account of how crappy it looks.
It is usually Mike Redmond's job to clean up the clubhouse before and after Twins home games, a service he generally does wearing a smile (and not much else). But lately he had been growing concerned—when he got to the clubhouse after long road trips, he'd find signs that someone had been using the whirlpool, which is strictly off-limits to anyone but players.
"Lew," he asked the injured outfielder one day, "have your Doom buddies been playing Star Wars guys in the whirlpool again?"
"No, man," said Lew. "That was just once!"
The mystery deepened when Redmond was cleaning the whirlpool and found long chunks of red hair in the ducts.
"Unless Lew's Doom buddies have gotten a lot hotter," mused Redmond, "there is something very mysterious going on here. I think I shall dance naked around the clubhouse." And so, he did.
On Friday morning when Redmond arrived, he heard someone splashing around in the whirlpool. "Ah-HA!" he said to himself. "Here is my chance!" And he tore into the whirlpool room—to find nothing at all. But in his eagerness, he slipped on a puddle and the next thing he knew, he was plummeting straight into the whirlpool.
"Aw, shit," he said.
And then everything went dark.
When he woke up, Redmond found himself lying on the trainer's gurney with a tall, pale, redheaded woman in a Twins jersey staring unblinking at him.
"You…you saved me…" Redmond gasped.
"Yes," the woman said in a voice like windchimes.
"It's you, you've been swimming in the whirlpool."
"Yes."
"And now you're wearing my jersey."
"No," said the woman, turning around to reveal SANTANA emblazoned on her back. "I took Johan Santana's, because he's very hot."
"Who are you?" Redmond breathed.
"My name is Story. I am a narf. I am from the Blue World."
"You're a what?"
At that moment, Pat Neshek skipped into the room. "Hey, Mr. Redmond, I was just gonna—holy crap is that a narf?"
Redmond turned to look at the giddy sidearmer. "You've heard of a narf?"
"Sure! My mom read me a bedtime story about it just last week. Once upon a time the sea people lived among us and guided us. But then the humans turned greedy and in their pursuit of land moved away from the sea people and forgot all about them. But now, the sea people are sending the new generation out to make contact and bring peace and goodwill and Wild Card berths! And that means you're—" he gasped and dropped to his knees. "You've come to bring us peace!"
"Yes, my child," said Story. "But I cannot do it alone. I will need help from…..ACK!" She let out a high piercing scream, so loud it broke Brad Radke's hair gel jars.
"What?" said Redmond and Neshek.
"There!" she pointed at the widescreen TV in the trainer's room. "It's a scrunt!"
"Oh, gosh!" exclaimed Neshek. "We have to run!"
"What's a scrunt?"
"A scrunt is a creature of great evil. They prey on the narfs, trying to keep them from meeting with humans and bringing them peace and happiness and wild card berths. They have potent offense and good pitching and they never lose!"
"You must keep the scrunts from me!" exclaimed the narf. "He will kill me and then all is lost."
"It's okay," said Neshek. "We'll keep you safe. I mean—" he turned to Redmond—"we're not playing the Tigers for awhile, are we?"
"Uh…." said Redmond.
One by one, the Twins filed into the clubhouse and Redmond introduced Story to his teammates. They listened to her tale breathlessly.
"We must help the narf!" shouted Jason Tyner.
"We must defeat the scrunts!" yelled Jason Bartlett.
"Am I going to get eaten?" asked Little Nicky Punto.
"Yes," said Pat Neshek, ignoring Punto, "only through teamwork can we defeat the scrunts, for they are big and powerful and never, ever, ever lose! But we can do it for we are small and plucky and don't lose that much either!"
"For the narf!" screamed the Twins, running out onto the field to meet the scrunts in battle.
The battle raged on for three long nights. In the first, the scrunts scored an early blow, helped by the very small strike zone of the monkey-like law-enforcing Tartutics, and while the Twins were able to scratch back, the scrunts leapt at Juan Rincon's jugular and scored that night's victory.
"Now, that's just mean," said Redmond.
The next night, the scrunts went out into an early lead, tearing Brad Radke limb from limb and sucking the marrow from his bones. The Twins tried valiantly to fight back with their very best boom boom sticks, but it was to no avail. At the end, the scrunts ate Neshek and Jesse Crain, too.
"Now, that's really mean," said Redmond.
And the third day it went much the same, the evil scrunts making even Johan Santana falter, which was the meanest part of all. Inside the dugout, the narf cowered and shook.
"Come on you guys," said Redmond as the eighth inning grew nigh. "Are we really going to be beat by a bunch of freakin' scrunts? Are we going to let them eat our team alive? What about the narf? All she wants to do is spread truth and love and Wild Cardness whether she goes. Isn't that something we can fight for? They might have narfs, but we have JAZILLA! Isn’t that right?"
"Yeah!" said the Twins.
"Yeah!" said Jazilla, roaring.
"Let's go!"
And with that, the Twins stormed the field. The site of the three-headed red winged Jason monster was too much for the scrunts and they began to play suddenly like ass-crap. After getting bitch-slapped by the scrunts in the previous battles, Michael Cuddyer struck the deathblow. When the dust settled, the Twins had prevailed.
"Thank you, Twins," said the narf. "You are truly a noble group, even if you hit into too many double plays and sometimes miss the cut-off man. You see, you don’t need a narf. The strength to win is inside you, all the time. All I did was show you the way."
And then a great eagle came and carried Story back off to the Blue World while the Twins waved and watched her go.
"Man," said Jason Kubel, when the eagle and Story had disappeared. "That was one hot narf."
BatNotes: Baseball and theater! Johan Santana's Perfect Game, by local playwright Jonathan Wemette, will be premiering at the Minnesota Fringe Festival this August. For more information, please look here.
Blizzards for a cause! On August 10th, Team Batgirl's favorite frosty treat gets even more delicious—the secret ingredient is charity. Every Blizzard you buy that day benefits the Children's Miracle Network. Team Batgirl, I assume, will be taking this as a challenge.
Sometimes you have a bad weekend. Sometimes you manage to futz out at every possible scoring chance. Sometimes you’re the winning run and you strike out to end the game. And then, sometimes, you have a chance to redeem yourself. Your team scores 4 runs in one inning, but they could sure use some insurance and you step up with two outs and two on, and you lace a hit through the gap and end up with a very hott triple, which, after a demoralizing two games, ends the series on a high and earns you, Michael Cuddyer, the Boyfriend of the Day.
Goober/Doctor 19; Readers/The Field 17; Batbaby/(Kubes) 8; Batgirl/Chairman 7; Sooz/(Cuddy) 6; Jeb/ (Silva) 3.
I dunno, you guys. I agree with Aaron. I'm not sure a team that's played .810 baseball for six weeks necessarily needs a big trade. BG wouldn't mind a 4 or 5 starter, but this whole future rotation of Santana, Liriano, Garza, Slowey, Baker/Perkins/Boof is pretty hott and BG doesn't want the dream to die for a rent-a-player. The Twins are in the very weird situation of suddenly having power hitters (Thank you Doctor and Cuddles), the kind of guy who can (and does) change a game with one swing, plus a bunch of guys we need to rotate through the DH role when not starting. We have a little weight to shed--one too many outfielders, maybe, and perhaps in the bullpen, but I don't feel that--unless we can get a deal for a solid 4 or 5, which probably ain't going to happen--we need to move. What thinkest thou?
Edit: The Geek says this is bad news for Twins fans.
Re-Edit: This was posted by BG, on Jeb's computer! Remember, the Internet LIES.
Still yet more edits Fantabulous article on Liriano from USA Today last week.
OKAY ENOUGH WITH THE DAMN EDITS!: SI: Why the Twins are Hot and Why They'll Stay That Way
BG doesn't know what the hell she's supposed to do with no baseball. Clearly, it's a nefarious scheme to keep us from winning tonight. Well, we do have important business to attend to. First off, it became very clear that Batlings were crying out to Give Pat Neshek a Nickname. Suggestions taken below, we'll vote next week.
Secondly, during the Bitch Sox series we met this horrible beast.
This trijacevirate seems to be a close relative of this terrible creature: Ghidorah: The Three-Headed Monster.
Readers, what is it called?
Twins at Chicago. Twins 7, Bitch Sox 4. Sweeeep.
Do you remember last year? No, I know you don't. I know you had the whole thing surgically removed from your brain. The procedure was a little painful, sure, there was the whole needle through the eyeball part and then the piercing of the brain part and the where they said, "Here, I just gots to wiggle it around a little bit," and then there was the rash and the various loss of bodily functions and the constant pains like someone had stuck a fork in your soul, and then of course the procedure went wrong and you realized you were really from Mars and your memories had been erased and that Sharon Stone isn't your girlfriend at all but a total twat, plus an assassin, and you go to Mars where you live inside this shielded space colony because outside is more toxic than CC Sabathia's port-a-potty and the whole thing is ruled over by Ronny Cox, who is a major Dick, and keeps order by threatening the whole colony with oxygen deprivation, and you get the crap kicked out of you a lot, and then in the final battle you fall out of the colony into the Sabathia port-o-potty and your eyeballs start popping out and your skin explodes and finally you're saved and you get back to Earth and someone asked you how the procedure went to eliminate the memories of last year, and you say—there were some complications, but it was totally worth it.
And so—no. You don't remember. So I might, in gentle soothing tones, with a careful eye on your blood pressure and your psyche and the nearest dial-a-shrink ready on the phone, remind you that there was a season of baseball last year and it was not particularly fun, and Hee Sop Choi hurt us in a way we did not recover from for an entire calendar year, there was Bret Boone, and we only scored 18 runs the entire season.
Well, what you also don't remember is that there was a time in August when we started playing well. And there was a moment—just a moment—of hope. And during that moment, the Minnesota Twins swept the Bitch Sox of Chicago and it was beautiful.
And at the time Batgirl said let us value this for what it is, for tomorrow is for poets and Little Orphan Annie, and today we swept the Bitch Sox.
Well, hope was a cruel mistress--she seduced us, she made us feel alive again, she touched us like no one has ever touched us before, and then she kicked us squa' in the nads, laughed, and went off to suck face with the Cleveland Indians.
But she couldn't take that sweep away from us. And now that Hope is rubbing herself against us again, we must look her in the eye and say, "Tomorrow is for poets and you are a two bit whore. I do not need you to be happy, because my team has hustle, it has heart, it has Tiny Super Heroes and Big Canadians, and today we swept the Bitch Sox."
Ah, yes, my dears, we had it all this series, just like Bogie and Halsey Hall. We had defense, we had Jasons, we had homers, homers, homers. We had Michael Cuddyer with his glove and his arm and his boom boom stick, we had comebacks and near disasters, we had Johan Santana and Brad Radke, we had Carlos Silva swatting away at the creature breathing down his neck, we had Juan Rincon, we had Joe Mauer's first homerun in 8 jillion at bats against a lefty, we had Joe Nathan pretend to be human, we had Neshek pop his earned run cherry, we had the fire in Jason Bartlett's belly blaze into an inferno, we had Jason Tyner pick balls with the best of them in center, and we had Little Nicky Punto dealing tiny death blows to cap it all off.
Today's game seemed to cap the whole thing off so beautifully. We all would have been happy getting out of there with 2-3—a 4-2 road trip after winning about 5 games total on the road this season. Monday and Tuesday, those were our games to win.
But no one told the Twins. In the first inning, Punto extended his hitting streak to a not-so-tiny 18 games, then Cuddy went Boom. And Mark Buerhle's soulless little face just sort of collapsed when that ball went out and it was so so pretty. Silva faltered in the next inning, Castillo blew a play and suddenly there were runners on first and third and no outs. But Silva got out of it, Castillo redeemed himself with a triple, the Doctor performed some emergency surgery, and the Twins were up 3-0 in the 4th.
Well, Silva's luck was short lived. Jermaine Dye went yard, AJ scooted around the bases, and by the time the 4th ended (which took at least a year) thanks to Castillo the score was tied.
It's okay, we can lose this one, 2 out of 3 would be great, it would be really—
Hey, here's a tip: You do not, in general, walk Michael Cuddyer to pitch to Justin Morneau, because it makes him very very angry. Only he's a Canadian so he does not express his anger by screaming or swearing or kicking the crap out of a Gatorade bucket, no, he expresses his anger by driving in runs. But say he's not done with his anger yet, say he's got a little more to work out, say his team has just surrendered a three run lead and he's got NBP on the bases—well, he deals with it by hitting the ball many many moose antlers away. And who is to say that's not healthy?
I think it is. At the very least, it was a series to remember.
BatNotes: Dick N' Bert suggested everyone give the Twins a warm welcome on Friday. Batgirl says give 'em a warm welcome all weekend. Go to the Dome as much as you can this series and thank the boys for being so damned fun to watch.
Twins Unplugged at Champps Minnetonka tonight with Cuddyer, Rincon, and Jason Renyt Tyner. BG can't go, so someone send her a full report.
Batgirl is extending the JOE MAUER SIDEBURN CONTEST until SUNDAY. Entries are due to Batgirl SUNDAY at 10pm.
Bamm! Bamm!
Picture courtesy of Will
Goober/Doctor 19; Readers/The Field 17; Batbaby/(Kubes) 8; Batgirl/Chairman 7; Sooz/(Cuddy) 5; Jeb/ (Silva) 3.
Twins at Chicago. Twins 4, Bitch Sox 3
Name This Beast.
I got your leadership right here.
Goober/Doctor: 18; Readers/The Field: 17; Batbaby/(Kubes) 8; Batgirl/Chairman 7; Jeb/ (Silva) 3; Sooz/(Cuddy) 5.
Twins at Chicago. Twins 7, Bitch Sox 4.
About two weeks ago, Batgirl was going to post something about this whole Twins-win-all-the-time thing and how we should just enjoy it for what it is and not get too caught up in scoreboard watching, because it was going to be a Herculean task to overcome those ahead of us, and while we may have Curly Haired Canadians and Chairmanesque Catchers and Tiny Super Heroes, we suffer a distinct lack of Herculeses. Or is it Herculi? Whichever. The point is Hercules was given twelve Labors by the king of Argos, acting on behalf of Hera--who was not so crazy about Hercules being alive, seeing as how he was her husband's son with another woman and she was not, as a rule, so fond of that—and these Labors were so deadly, so impossible, that he was supposed to bite it during one of them (I mean you try capturing the Erymanthian Boar!). Hercules made it through all twelve, but you may notice none of these labors was getting back into the playoff race in the AL Central. (Especially when you'd been playing like Ceryneian Hind.)
And—Batgirl was going to say—maybe that's okay. Maybe we should just enjoy winning for its own sake, because this team is more fun to watch than the Twins have been in almost two years, and let's face it: winning nine out of every ten games is fun. You heard it here first.
And—Batgirl was going to say—while she would much prefer to be in a race (she's not going to pull a Mark "I'd rather go home a week early" Buehrle,") there is something nice about just being able to enjoy all the relentless winning without the stress of scoreboard watching. Because stress is bad; it leads to things like overeating and disease and split ends and high blood pressure and drinking and hangnails and twitching—don't forget the twitching—and DEATH, and who needs it, I say? Let's just enjoy watching the team and not worry too much about the postseason, at least until 2007.
And, so, Batgirl was going to say all of this, and it might have sounded good at the time, but she was full of Cretan Bull. Because the Twins are two games back in the wild card race now—and I think it's fairly safe to say that that counts as officially In It.
I'm not saying Hercules wouldn't still be a little intimidated. The Bitch Sox aren't going to sit quietly and watch their lead evaporate, and George Steinbrenner can (and always does) manage to buy enough wins at the end of the season to get in the playoffs somehow. But, you know, tonight as Cuddles and the Doctor went Boom! Boom! to give the Twins the lead, as Radke set them down in the sixth, as Chairman Mauer strode up to the plate and said, "The people need me now," it felt a little like Hercules dumping the rabid Cerberus at the feet of the king of Argos, and saying "Take that, bitch." And the king gets all scared and says, "Please, please, please Hercules, take that monster away from me!" And Hercules says, "But you asked for it," and he says, "Hera made me do it," and Hercules says, "are you going to be nice to me now?" and the king says, "I promise!" and Hercules says, "Because I've got Francisco Liriano in the next room, and I'm not afraid to use him," and then the king starts crying and Hera starts crying too and George Steinbrenner starts crying and it is beautiful.
BatNote: Batgirl has already received several entries for the JOE MAUER SIDEBURN CONTEST. Are you growing your sideburns? Remember, winners will be chosen in TWO categories—Real Sideburns and Creative Expression. Entries are due to Batgirl by July 28, that's FRIDAY.
You know, it was really too bad when Jason Tyner was called out at home in the seventh. It was a bad call, of course, and potentially so costly—a one run lead isn't exactly a comfortable one with Mr. Thome skulking around with that giant boom boom stick of his (not to mention BRIAN ANDERSON). And then Joe Mauer strode up with two outs and runners on first and third, and, oh Joe, it would be oh-so-nice if you might get a single here and get us one of those fancy dan insurance runs, wouldn't it be—
Oh.
Boom!
Or, as Twins Geek emailed to Batgirl:
HOW ABOUT THAT??!!?? THE CHAIRMAN AND PEOPLE OVERCOME THE INJUSTICE PERPETUATED BY THE UMPIRIAL INTERLOPERS!
Indeed. And that three run homer (the first homer off a lefty in 287 at bats) and timely display of awesomeness makes you, Chairman Mauer, the Boyfriend of the Day.
Goober/Doctor: 18; Readers/The Field: 16; Batbaby/(Kubes) 8; Batgirl/Chairman 7; Jeb/ (Silva) 3; Sooz/(Cuddy) 5.
Twins at Cleveland. Weekend Round-up.
Friday. Twins 14, Indigenous Peoples 6.
Saturday. IPs 11, Twins 0.
Sunday. Twins 3, IPs 1.
It hasn't taken long for Pat Neshek to become something of a folk hero around Twins Territory. How can you not love a guy who has his own blog? (Because blogging, as we know, is the key to lovability.) Whenever he gets interviewed, he acts roughly as excited to be in the bigs as your average 11 year old Little League star, with about the same amout of voice cracking. And he's got the most crazy-ass delivery Batgirl has ever seen. It's sort of like an epileptic trying to do the Robot--except that robot sure can pitch. Below, for your edification: Neshek's delivery, a reenactment. Kids, for god's sakes, don't try this at home.
With boyish good looks that belie his gee whiz charm, Neshek surveys the batter.
As if offering a last prayer to the baseball gods, Neshek holds his glove out to the batter and bows.
He then yanks the ball back and, while jerking it up and down, bobs up and down a few times as if readying his entry for the 2006 Twins Mime Competition: "Boy, Who Left That Banana Peel Right There?" I think he'll win!
When will he release the ball? No one knows!
Oh, there it goes! Wheeee!
Neshek freezes, using the force of his will to urge the ball over the plate.
Then, as the ball approaches the plate, he begins to wave his pitching arm in the air until--
--he ends in the "Neshek Salute!" raising his hand to the ball to thank it for all it has done for him and wish it well on its travels, wherever they may take it. Good-bye ball! I'll miss you! Adieu! Adieu!
As the ball lands in Mike Redmond's mitt, the batter's face registers confusion, then rage, then something very like arousal.
Sometimes, all it takes is one hit. Like, say, when the bases are loaded and there are two outs and the Twins have just managed to score one run—and it’s the Kid pitching, so one run is going to be enough, right? Well, almost surely, but it would sure be fun to get another one—maybe two?
Picture courtesy of Andy in Wrigleyville.
Yes. Yes it would. We needed this one, needed to win this road series, head to Chicago with a new winning streak started, and for that to happen we needed Dr. Morneau to be the Boyfriend of the Day.
Goober/Doctor: 18; Readers/The Field: 16; Batbaby/(Kubes) 8; Batgirl/Chairman 6; Jeb/ (Silva) 3; Sooz/(Cuddy) 5.
Since joining the Twins eight games ago, Jason Renyt Tyner has been trying to figure out his role. It would be easy to stand atop the dugout and announce to all who'd listen, "I am Jason Renyt Tyner and I am a good-luck charm. This team has not known defeat since I joined its ranks."
And he would be correct, for the Twins have gone 8-0 since Jason Renyt Tyner joined the Twins during their week of the injured outfielders. He was the first to come up, to be joined by Rondell White and Josh Rabe. And on his first night with the Twins, he got the game-winning single and felt the happy breath of his new teammates as they pounded his helmet and showed him all forms of man love.
But, still, as the hits and wins kept coming, Jason Renyt Tyner wondered, "How can I make them remember me after the novelty of my arrival has worn off? How can I be more than a man whose middle name is his last name in reverse?"
And Jason Rynet Tyner pondered. He saw hustle and determination wherever he looked, and understood that his hustle and determination was matched by other little Twins -- by Nicky Punto and Luis Castillo and Jason Bartlett, to name three. And he knew that he could not hit the ball as far as JustIncredible or as consistently as The Chairman or even with the sudden combination of power and hotness that is now Rondell White.
"How will they know me?" Jason Renyt Tyner asked himself as the team plane landed in Cleveland, and again as teammates stretched, dressed and touched their noses in preparation for the series opener. He was in the lineup again, batting eighth against the loathsome C.C. Sabathia.
And then, as he approached the plate in the second inning, he understood.
"No, I cannot hit as far as Morneau nor as well as Mauer," Jason Renyt Tyner told himself. "But I can hit it hard and short."
(This is backed up by statistics. In 863 major-league at-bats, Jason Renyt Tyner has 0 home runs. In other words, he trails Barry Bonds by 722 career home runs and Lew Ford by 28 -- and he is likely to catch neither.)
As he approached the plate, Jason Renyt Tyner looked the corpulent Captain Cheeseburger in the eye and in the gut. "Show me your best heater, fat ass," he drawled to himself, knowing full well that Texas Aggies don't cuss out loud.
And C.C. tried. It was a fastball.
And Jason Renyt Tyner swung, and drilled the ball toward Sabathia's big head. When C.C. raised his left arm in self-defense, the ball banged off his wrist and into center field for a base hit. Captain Cheeseburger waved away help and acted as if he was just fine, thank you.
But he wasn't. He didn't make it through the fourth, allowing eight runs on six hits and four walks and looking for all the world like he wanted to make a big hole -- a big, big hole -- in the pitcher's mound and jump in.
And Jason Renyt Tyner thought to himself, "I know what I am...
"I AM THE ASSASSIN."
But how could he convince others? In the third inning, he came to bat with the bases loaded. His brain was in overdrive.
"To be an assassin, I must know and show more than brute force," Jason Renyt Tyner thought.
So he hit a slow grounder toward third base, daring Aaron (BBB) Boone to throw home and start a double play.
Aaron (Bret Boone's Brother) Boooooooone booooooooted it, letting a run score and starting an 8-run inning, giving the Twins a lead that not even Carlos Silva could put asunder. (When Boone made a routine fielding play later in the game, he received derisive cheers from the Clevelanders. And then, after making a key out when Cleveland still had hopes of a rally, he held his head in his hands by home plate. Boone was psychological toast.)
As he stood at first base and listened to the crowd direct anger toward its third baseman, Jason Renyt Tyner thought to himself, "I AM THE ASSASSIN."
Then, later in the game, when Cleveland threatened a bit and more runs were needed, Jason Renyt Tyner came to the plate against Jason (No Relation) Davis, a journeyman of little repute who was called up from the minors this week.
"I will destroy this mediocrity," Jason Renyt Tyner said, approaching the plate, where he smacked a single off the reliever's body, a deft reminder of what he'd done to Captain Cheeseburger, and a blow that led to two runs that seemed needed at the time.
This time, brimming with confidence, he turned to the first-base coach, Jerry White, and said out loud, "I KNOW WHAT I AM NOW! I AM THE ASSASSIN!"
Jerry smiled and offered him a breath mint.
So on a night when Rondell had four (more) hits and four RBI ... and Chairman Mauer tripled, doubled and singled ... and Cuddy had three hits and four RBI ... and JustIncredible raised his average to .308 with two hits and two walks ... and Dennys (Grand Slam Breakfast) Reyes defeated Pronk in a key game of 1-on-1, it was Jason Renyt Tyner who left Jacobs Field with an identity.
Opponents beware, HE IS THE ASSASSIN!
We thought that this would be a mighty struggle--Captain Cheeseburger against the Jackal, wicked versus righteous, mano-a-mano in the World Series of good an evil. But it turned out that the true struggle would be between rivals for the coveted BOD. The Chairman got three hits and two RBIs and the Doctor got two hits and crossed the plate four times; but the true contest was between the blazing hot Rondell and Cuddles, each with four RBIs. If Rondell had won the heart of a member of Team Batgirl he'd be walking away with this one simply because his resurgence is such a joy and he nearly cranked out another homer to left field; but as it stands, Cuddy is Sooz's stalwart champion...and tonight's Boyfriend of the Day.
Goober/Doctor: 17; Readers/The Field: 16; Batbaby/(Kubes) 8; Batgirl/Chairman 6; Jeb/ (Silva) 3; Sooz/(Cuddy) 5.
Before she headed out of town to her place-without-the-Internet, Batgirl slipped the key to the blog under the door and said, "If there's something to say, RD, say it."
RD has something to say: THERE'S A PENNANT RACE GOING ON!
Not to sound like the voice in the Twins Territory commercials, but it's time to put aside anything that could distract from the task at hand and pay close attention. It's time to bring your casual-fan friends into the fold, making sure they understand that the next couple of weeks has the potential to determine our state of mind for the next few months.
Make sure they know that JustIncredible hits lefties now and Little Nicky Punto is more than a Tiny Superhero novelty. Make sure they know that Johan has been Joined by nine others whose first name begins with J, and they need to start learning which Jason is which, and how to tell a Josh from a Jason on the basepaths.
Make sure they know we didn't really mean a lot of the grumpy things we said back in April and May and early June.
Damn, RD loves pennant races. Most of the time, he finds it maddening to have only the Internet as his baseball lifeline for no-TV day games. (He lobbied hard for the TV above his desk, you know.) But this afternoon, he was tapping away at the GameDay page, keeping up with the twists and turns of the series-sweeper against the C-Rayz Walz, er, T-Bayz Rayz. When he wandered around his office floor, he saw others doing the same thing, others who had to make split-second decisions about whether to hide the GameDay screen depending on who was walking behind them.
Of course, many of those who would rat out a GameDay user are the same people who huddled around the secret TV to watch the British Open.
We wondered aloud what was up with El Presidente's control, walking three batters in the inning when he teased the Rays by letting them have a 3-1 lead. And we imagined what the RBI-singles by The Chairman and Cuddy looked like, the ones that turned a 3-3 tie into a 5-3 lead.
And we wondered if we would see the words: "RONDELL WHITE HOMERS" pop up on our screens.
And we weren't being sarcastic.
And some of us e-mailed someone special when young Twitch 'n' Pitch (d/b/a in the American League as Pat Neshek) protected the lead by striking out the side in the seventh. That's when we knew it was game over, seven in a row and time to start thinking about Cleveland.
Ah, Cleveland, baseball's birthplace of the offensive mascot and a place where the Twins stumbled badly during the season's discouraging first week. Cleveland, though, has been impersonating the Kansas City Royals in recent weeks and it's time to storm into town and get some revenge, starting tomorrow night when the Twins get an encore with whiny, corpulent Captain Cheeseburger.
Three games in Cleveland, three in Chicago against the Bitch Sox and then home for three with the Tigers.
THERE'S A PENNANT RACE GOING ON!
Finish strong, Yung Joc
meet us at the Jake
it's goin down
meet us at the Cell
it's goin down
meet us at the Dome
it's goin down
anywhere you meet us guaranteed to go down
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
AN RD ADDENDUM: The other night, FSN put a mike on Little Nicky Punto and captured his chattering and grunting and everything else that's part of Nick at night at the Dome. While enjoying the show, the wonderful and talented Twins Goddess offered LNP some cautionary advice. Read it here.
Who shook off a slight slump, batted in two runs today, and has dimples to die for?
No (though she did have great plate discipline).
Michael Cuddyer, you are today’s Boyfriend of the Day.
Goober/Doctor: 17; Readers/The Field: 16; Batbaby/(Kubes) 8; Batgirl/Chairman 6; Jeb/ (Silva) 3; Sooz/(Cuddy) 4.
Tampa Bay at Twins. Twins 7, Devil Rays 2
Everyone knew there was something off about Rondell White this year. In addition to his epic craptitude at the plate, White just didn't seem to be the happy-go-lucky guy the Twins had heard about from his former teammates. Everyone quickly attributed his newfound interpersonal reticence to his troubles at the plate, but the more intuitive players couldn't help but think something was really wrong. "He just seems to be missing a piece of his heart," said Little Nicky Punto, shaking his head.
Try as he might, Punto could not get White to open up. "I'm fine," the slumping DH would mutter. "Nothing to see here." But with every protest, the diminutive utility infielder grew only more suspicious.
"He's just building walls," whispered Punto to Johan Santana.
"He is in construction?"
"No," said Punto. "I mean walls to hide his pain. I mean he's hiding something. I can tell. You know how some people are really smart about things like words and adding and stuff? Well, I've just always had a lot of emotional intelligence. And something is very wrong with Rondell White."
"I see," said Johan. "That is very interesting. I am sorry he is not in construction, as I am building a house for homeless puppies. It is very warm so I am going to take off my shirt. I hope I do not get too sweaty and sun-glistened."
Then, when White left to Cincinnati to get his arm looked at, Punto saw his chance. As soon as White's plane took off, the dwarfish infielder changed into his tiny hero garb and headed for Rondell's apartment to see what he could see. After looking to see that no one was there, he slid head-first under the door--because Little Nicky Punto, Tiny Superhero, can get into places other people cannot--and found himself inside his teammate's home.
"Let's see what I can see," Punto said to himself. He scampered all around the apartment looking for some sign of White's melancholy, but could see nothing unusual. Until he got into the bedroom.
The room was covered with snapshots of a happy-looking White from all over the world—Paris, Milan, Fort Collins, CO, and in all of these pictures White was not alone.
"I think that's a chinchilla!" Punto exclaimed. "He's clearly Rondell's bestest friend in the whole wide world! But where is he now?"
It did not take long to find out. In the back corner of the bedroom on a pedestal was a chinchilla-sized leopard print velvet pillow. And it was empty. And next to it lay a tear-stained note:
Rondell— I have Mr. Fuzzles. If you tell anyone, you'll regret it. If you come for him, I will make him into a thong. --CC
There was another stain on the note, too, and as Punto leaned forward he caught the unmistakable whiff of cheeseburger.
"That bastard!" exclaimed Punto. "No wonder Rondell has climbed new heights on Crap Mountain! CC Sabathia has his pet chinchilla!"
Well, Little Nicky Punto was not going to stand for this, and pretty soon he had mounted the nearest sparrow and set flight for Captain Cheeseburger's lair. Once there,, Punto caught a distinct whiff of cedar chips and headed right toward the smell. What he saw chilled him to his very tiny bones.
In a back room in the evil lair sat row after row of cages all filled with assorted small pets, each labeled with the name of a major leaguer. There was Pudge Rodriguez's Abyssinian guinea pig, Mike Sweeney's fat-tailed gerbil, Ryan Howard's spiny mouse, and the unmistakable stink of Eric Chavez's famous ferret Sancho Panza. And there, in small dark cage in the corner, was Mr. Fuzzles.
"Don't worry, Mr. Fuzzles!" said Punto. "Don't worry Sancho Panza! Don't worry Ryan Howard's spiny mouse, and Mike Sweeney's fat-tailed gerbil! I can get into places other people cannot!"
Soon, all of the small animals were free. Punto mounted Sancho Panza and led them all to freedom, but not before leaving CC Sabathia with something to remember him by in the form of ketchup-flavored laxative. And when Rondell White came back from his rehab assignment, he discovered a very special friend waiting in his locker.
"Mr. Fuzzles!" he gasped, eyes filling with tears. "But how…. But where?"
"I rescued him for you!" Punto exclaimed proudly. "Now you can stop sucking!"
And just like that, Little Nicky cracked the emotional walls Rondell White, and the walls came a-tumbling down. And White began to weep openly and cradle his friend to his chest.
"What about CC?" White whispered through his tears.
"Oh, he won't be bothering us for some time," said Punto with a happy smile.
"How do I ever thank you?"
"Oh, don't worry," said Punto. "If you just stop sucking it will be thanks enough."
And with that, the room filled with happy laughter—White's deep, rich bass and Punto's little squeaking chips. Or maybe that was the chinchilla. Who can say? All we know is that Rondell has his Mr. Fuzzles again, and that Johan Santana is somewhere shirtless and gleaming.
Please note: Batgirl will be out of town and--gasp--computerless until Saturday evening. Jeb will be BODSHC and should be accorded of all the honor and privileges therein.
Everyone knows that the BODSHC is a sentimentalist. Give her a player down on his luck who comes through in the clutch and she's likely to give him the most coveted fake award in all of Twins bloggerdom. Like Sunday, when Mr. Down-On-His-Luck himself steps up and hits his first home run of the season and you could feel the joy reverberate through Twins Territory. And then yesterday he goes 2-3 with a walk and today he manages two home runs, going 3-4 with 2 RBIs and earning a standing O from the crowd—not to mention Batgirl and the Batkitties Three. And it's just so damned beautiful to watch, because we've been waiting for this, and we gave up, and we gave up a few more times, too, and then there was hope, and then more giving up, and then, well—BAM! BAM! BAM! Keep it up, Comeback Kid, and maybe you'll get more Boyfriends of the Day.
Goober/Doctor: 17; Readers/The Field: 16; Batbaby/(Kubes) 8; Batgirl/Chairman 6; Jeb/ (Silva) 3; Sooz/(Cuddy) 3.
Tampa Bay at Twins. Twins 8, Freakin' Devil Rays 1
Batgirl got home from the game tonight and turned on the BatTivo to review a few highlights—only to discover that during the broadcast FSN was featuring "The Sounds of Nick Punto," which she imagines is sort of like The Sounds of Blackness, except not at all. She is half tempted to watch the whole game again just to learn what, exactly, these sounds are—Batgirl imagines they go something like, "Bonzai" and "Wee wee wee!" and "Tiny Superhero Awayyyyy!" and, mostly, "Oof!" (This one after he belly flopped into third base on a triple--which looked totally cool, except maybe a wee painful. But it's nice to see he's not being, you know, too careful given he's hurting. I'm sure there are some Red Wings we haven't called up yet.)
Speaking of Red Wings, in that little video they show on the Jumbotron as they come to bat, new call-up Josh Broccoli Rabe looks roughly like he's going to pee his pants. You can sort of imagine the guy who filmed it hastily yesterday afternoon trying to coax him with things like, "Can we try it next time with just a little less abject terror?…No? Okay. Just keep on with what you're doing, then."
And Rabe's first couple of MLB at bats did not, perhaps go as planned. It took poor Rondell White all season to figure out how to get on base—and tonight he had a single and a walk in his first two at bats, each wiped out by a lline-out double play--the first from Rabe, the second Tyner. One imagines there were some "Sounds of Rondell White" after the second one. But Rabe did get his first MLB hit tonight, and Rondell White was 2-3 with a walk, and Little Nicky Punto and Castillo extended their hitting streaks, Punto had 3 RBIs, Mauer went 2-4, and Morneau went BOOM, and oh—there was a pitcher, too….who was it again?
Oh, that was Francisco Liriano, Rookie of the Year and your 2006 Cy Young award winner. A few Liriano starts ago, Goober called and left a message for Batgirl that went something like this: "You know, the other teams just wish they had a pitcher like Johan Santana. They're so jealous of us because we have him and they don't. Well, guess what…. We copied him."
One can only imagine that that bowel-loosening look of fear on Josh Rabe's face was mirrored by each Devil Ray batter as he came to bat against Cisco today. The Kid retired the first nine, then ten in a row, struck out seven, allowed two hits, and put his ERA nicely back below 2. He would have gotten a shutout had not Terry Tiffee, at the very moment a low throw came his way, suddenly realized, "Holy God, I have twins!" Can you blame him? Imagine the "Sounds of Tiffee" coming out of that house.
Batgirl is just so damned happy right now. Maybe a little bewildered—how do you lose three outfielders in one weekend and still win five in a row? How is it that we're suddenly so good? How is it that our offensive heroes are Little Nicky Punto, Jason Tyner, yes, even Rondell White? How is it that we ever got Francisco Liriano in the first place?
It is not a Batgirl's place to question, merely to cheer as Little Nicky Punto rounds the bases and cries wee, wee, wee all the way home.
BatNotes: The Dome is sponsoring Joe Mauer Sideburn Night with paste-on sideburns. This is, of course, not nearly as cool as Batgirl's Joe Mauer Sideburn Contest.
All your bitches are belong to us.
Goober/Doctor: 17; Readers/The Field: 15; Batbaby/(Kubes) 8; Batgirl/Chairman 6; Jeb/ (Silva) 3; Sooz/(Cuddy) 3.
Batgirl very much appreciates everyone's thoughts and wisdom during this difficult time. THREE Team Batgirl Boyfriends on the DL? What's a (Bat) Girl to do? Well, given the drastic nature of the situation, we've taken the most unusual step of TEMPORARY BOYFRIENDS. Yes, it's a big Team Batgirl/Twins key party. Please note: The Temporary Boyfriends are only good until the Original Boyfriend comes off the DL. Should someone then wish to stay with his/her temporary boyfriend permanently, all points accumulated by his/her former boyfriend go to the Field.
And the lucky players are:
BatBaby: Kubel
Jeb: Silva
Sooz: Cuddy
None of that, of course, mattered today.
picture courtesy of Eric
Goober/Doctor: 17; Readers/The Field: 14; Batbaby/(Kubes) 8; Batgirl/Chairman 6; Jeb/ (Silva) 3; Sooz/(Cuddy) 3.
Due to intense BatSleepiness, the Return of Nutty will have to wait 'til another start. But Nutty is here with us in our hearts, always
Cleveland Indigenous Peoples at Twins. Weekend Round-Up.
Friday. Twins 3, IP 2 (10 innings).
Saturday. Twins 6, IP 2.
Sunday. Twins 5, IP 2.
When Josh "Broccoli"* Rabe got the call that he was coming up to the bigs, you can forgive him if he looked to the heavens and screamed, "Nooooooooo!" Because there is something rotten in the Twins clubhouse and I don’t mean Lew Ford's flip flops. Outfielders are dropping left, right, and center—we lost three and a half this series (the bottom half of Jason Kubel) and Michael Cuddyer's looking a little jumpy. Terry Ryan has hired two full time body guards for Little Nicky Punto, Tiny Centerfielder, and Jason Tyner played the games this weekend like a man just trying to make his mark before he meets his maker.
We're still alive, man!
The rest of the Twins rallied the best they could, with Radke and Silva partying like it was 2005 (Now with more run support!), even keeping the Travishafner/Pronkzilla from doing any major damage, although BG did assume the crash position every time he came up. LNP ran the bases yesterday like there was someone chasing him with a knife and fork and Dr. Morneau showed Captain Cheeseburger that revenge is a dish best served by hitting the crap out of the ball. Then today Castillo discovered a fabulous way to get around the bases without pain, Cuddy hit his first homer in 81 at bats, and Rondell White—well, I don't know how to say this, really, so I'll just out with it—hit a homerun. And boy, were the Twins happy, especially LNP who could finally add White to his Comparative Butt Chart.
Let's see….firm, but not as firm as Torii's, with the pleasing smoothness of Morneau's….
It was a fun weekend to watch baseball, and whether fans packed the Metrodome because of the Twins hot play or because it was about 800 degrees Farenheit (the temperature at which blogs burn) here in Twins Territory is hard to say. On Saturday, Batgirl was musing that an indoor stadium might not be such a bad thing, if you really sat down and thought about it, but Batling Kurtis quickly pointed out that if CC Sabathia had to pitch in that heat he wouldn't last two innings. It was an excellent point.
Better yet, we got to see two, count 'em, two temper tantrums by the Indians—one was Mr. Sabathia after Morneau went very, very yard on him. He called out the whole grounds crew to come out and fix some groove on the mound, because clearly the groove gave up the dinger and it must die. Then after he flied out to end the game tonight, Aaron Boone went into the dugout and threw Gatorade cups all over the place, which is just so classy, because the cups were evil and made him fly out and must die. Batgirl sincerely hopes he cleaned them up afterwards.
So, to sum up: Twins Outfielders Down: 3.5; Temper Tantrums by Indians: 2; RBIs by Jason Tyner: 5; RBIs by Travis "Crash Position" Hafner : 1; Three-HR Games by Casey Blake: 0; Cheesebugers Eaten: 84; Gardy Ejections: 1; Earned Runs Allowed: 6; Bitches Sat Down: 26; Total Temperature : 2400; Victories : 3; Happy Batgirls : 1.
BatNote 1: Do not forget, the Joe Mauer Sideburn Contest is in full swing. The JMSCSHC has decided there will be winners in TWO categories: Actual Sideburns and Creative Expression. Photos are due to Batgirl July 28th. Start growing!
BatNote 2: Batgirl made the mistake of trying to code after midnight, and messed up the whole first graph of Thursday night's entry. As a result, the link to the very cool Mother Bear Project got obscured, not to mention a picture of a handknit men's thong.
*nickname courtesy of Twink.
When Rondell White left to get his shoulder loosened (Batgirl imagines the doctor taking a screwdriver, muttering 'Righty tighty lefty loosey' and turning) it seemed there was a chance the source of his sheer crapitude had been found. But then he didn't exactly tear up his rehab assignment, and BG wondered if he was even going to make it back with the team, but injury to the entire outfield rendered that question moot. In White's first appearance today, he grounded out. In his second, that-guy-who's-not-Coco-Crisp lost the ball in the lights and White had a gift double, then on Jason Tyner's hit he chugged home so fast he scared the ball right out of Victor Martinez's hands. Then, in the third, he pulled the crap out of a ball that ended up landing foul somewhere between Juan Rincon and Rick Stelmazeck in the Twins bullpen and the guy behind Batgirl said, "That's the best swing he's had all year." It quickly became the second best as Rondell launched the ball over the left field seats, giving him his long-awaited first home run of the year. And it was a beautiful sight. This, Rondell White, is the Boyfriend of the Day. Do you like it? Isn't it fun? Want more? I thought you did.
Goober/Doctor: 16; Readers/The Field: 14; Batbaby/Torii: 8; Batgirl/Chairman 6; Jeb/ Lewwww3; Sooz/Stewie 3.
Readers, help BG. There are three Team Batgirl boyfriends on the DL. What the heck do we do with this?
Batgirl is no fan of Captain Cheeseburger Sabathia. You know why? Throwing at people isn't nice. You end up doing things like ruining their entire season, and then they get pneumonia and appendicitis and the plague and it's pretty much all your fault, and then the guy isn't the same for, like, two years. He also goes something like 0-12 against you because you're a big fat meanie and he's a nice little Canadian boy, and they might talk tough with their hockey and stuff, but inside they are just big ol' pudding pops and terrified of psychotic people. But, you know what? That nice little Canadian boy? He's found his form again and he's not scared of you any more. And tonight he went 3-4 against you, including an infield base hit, which is kind of hysterical because he can't run that much faster than you. And then when the score is 4-2 in the 8th, he gets up and hits the ball a jillion moose antlers. And it didn't help win the game or anything, but watching CC do the ol' home run swivel was so much fun, and then he threw a huge tantrum about there being a hole in the mound (ahem) and it just made Batgirl so very very happy, really, so very, very happy, and that's why you, Dr. Morneau, are the Boyfriend of the Day.
(A big BOD shout out to LNP for textbook baserunning and serious Tiny Super Hero hustle. And to the Twins trainer, who is going to be extremely busy.)
Goober/Doctor: 16; Readers/The Field: 13; Batbaby/Torii: 8; Batgirl/Chairman 6; Jeb/ Lewwww3; Sooz/Stewie 3.
The Twins are going through outfielders like they used to go through utility infielders, but the thing is, when we call these guys up, they're just awesome. Keep breakin' em, Batgirl says, because apparently there's just another one waiting in the wings to show the other guys how it's done. Like tonight. It didn't seem like anyone could convert with RISP--except for a fresh-faced call-up that just rolled off the bus. Jason Tyner bookended the scoring with clutch two-out singles in the second and the tenth, resulting in 2/3rds of the Twins runs for the day and giving you, Jason Tyner, your very first Boyfriend of the Day.
Goober/Doctor: 15; Readers/The Field: 13; Batbaby/Torii: 8; Batgirl/Chairman 6; Jeb/ Lewwww3; Sooz/Stewie 3.
Cleveland at Twins. Indians 6, Twins 4.
It was knitting night at the Metrodome, and all the Twins gathered early to start work on their projects. Everyone had a different one. There was Juan Rincon with his reindeer sweater, Justin Morneau making a Canadian flag, Michael Cuddyer a tea cozy, Lew Ford his Dr. Who scarf. Matt Guerrier, finally able to knit again after weeks on the knitter's DL, is back working on some cotton manpris, and Johan Santana took a break from his relentless knitting of bears for the Mother Bear Project to make a zebra striped thong, which he worked on all game.
There was, as often happens when groups of knitters gather, some taunting. Most of it was in good fun, but some of it cut a little deep. When Torii Hunter questioned Justin Morneau's intarsia skills, Morneau muttered, "Whatever. You don't know your moss stitch from your ass stitch." Them, of course, are fighting words. Meanwhile Juan Rincon was happily knitting away at Martha's poncho when Carlos Silva took one look and shook his head.
"Juanie, ponchos are so five minutes ago."
Rincon sighed. "Carlos, why are you such a slave to fashion? I like ponchos. They combine the very best qualities of a sweater and a blanket in one wearable garment. Sometimes I like to sit around my house wearing just a poncho. It feels so good to feel the breeze through my armpits and also my pee pee while my torso is snug and warm."
"Hey," said Little Nicky Punto, who appeared in front of the pair carrying two bulky packages in his arms. "Have you seen Cisco?"
"No," said Silva.
"Probably still waiting for Ozzie to put him in the game," said Rincon.
"Oh," said Punto. "Well, tell me when he gets here. Oh! Gardy's in his office!"
And with that, Punto took off.
A few minutes later, Gardy appeared in the clubhouse wearing an outfit that was decidedly not MLB-standard.
Silence spread over the clubhouse. One beat. Two. Three. Finally, Torii Hunter's voice broke through.
"What the hell is that?"
Gardy narrowed his eyes. "Little Nicky Punto made it for me. I think it's nice. He's got spunk, that LNP!"
Just then, Francisco Liriano walked through the door. Little Nicky Punto jumped up, ran to the pitcher, and slid head first into his feet. "I made you a present!" he exclaimed, getting up and handing Cisco a package.
"Thank you, Little Nicky Punto," said Francisco, looking genuinely moved, or at least very very tired. But when he opened the package, his face changed into puzzlement.
"I thought you could wear it today," said LNP.
"But…." said Cisco. "I have to pitch. I cannot wear your ridiculous scarf and hat."
"Why not?"
"The yarn is too thick."
"It's very breathable."
"It does not even match."
"Who cares? It’s made with love!"
"But I do not wear scarves and hats. I pitch shut outs and strike people out and make them question their self-worth."
"Are you saying—" Punto's eyes filled with tears—"you don't want to wear my scarf and hat?"
And Punto's eyes grew so round and sad, and Liriano was taken back to his first knitting project, when he handed a pair of fun fur gauchos to his sweet mother who took one look and said, "I hate gauchos!" and his heart broke into tiny little pieces and since then he has had to work out his feelings of anger and regret and shame by making opposing batters feel very very bad about themselves. And Liriano looked down at the diminutive infielder and forced a smile on his face.
"I'll wear your hat and scarf Little Nicky Punto," said Liriano. "I'll wear it proudly!"
"Oh, yay!" said LNP.
"But if it interferes with my pitching, I will have to have you eaten."
"Deal!"
"Deal."
The First Annual Joe Mauer Sideburn Contest!
Contestants will grow or manufacture one (1) pair of sideburns in the inimitable style of our Chairman. Winner will be determined by popular vote. Winner will receive one (1) item of his/her choice from the BatStore, not to mention the people's ovation and fame forever.
Photos are due to Batgirl July 28 by midnight. Start growing.
Thank you to Mr. Eric for the idea.
EDIT: To check out those burns for yourself, Joe Mauer will be signing autographs at the Mall of America this Saturday, July 15 from 11:00 a.m. - 12:00 p.m. in the Rotunda. He will also be appearing at the Wishes and More Celebrity Waiter Dinner.
Usually, Batgirl takes this opportunity to bitch about Fox and the All-Star Game and the deeply unfortunately congruence thereof. Maybe it's Batgirl's new anger management skills, or she's softening in her old age, or probably because we're so used to the crimes and depredations that we just don't feel the pain anymore, but Batgirl is left feeling more a low-grade ennui rather than apoplectic rage this year. And at least Ass Face didn't make an appearance, though I'm sure you guys tried to convince Phil Garner to let him pitch the eighth.
Now, before people start patting each other on the back here, I don't want to imply that the coverage was in any way good, didn't invent any new ways to kill Batgirl softly. First of all, guys, you can't have it both ways. You can't tell me "This time it counts," and make a huge deal out of that and then spend entire half-innings talking to the managers. Because aren't they supposed to be, you know, managing? In the pregame, Ozzie Guillen said he was going to manage this game like it was the 7th game of the World Series. Well, how would you know, Oz you never got to the 7th game. You won it in four, huh? In your face, Ozzie.
Oh, wait….
And what the hell happened to Carrie Underwood? Remember when she was cute? One year from winning American Idol and she's already tanorexic and has stopped consuming solid foods. And those Chevrolet commercials are going to be playing constantly when Batgirl goes to hell. And did we have to name the drug that helps you pee "FlowMax?" Can't we just pretend it's not about peeing? Please? For Batgirl? And last year, Miggy got a Corvette for being MVP, and Michael Young gets a Chevy Avalanche? I'm sure he took one look at it and said, "Where's my $@#%!^& Vette?"
Anyway, the soul-numbing that's required to get through this thing without harming one's self or others has wearied Batgirl, so she just wants to leave you with a simple poll:
I know one protective cup who is going to be very happy about this...
From the Strib:
The Twins will recall starting pitcher Scott Baker from Class AAA Rochester to fill the roster spot created when veteran pinch-hitter Ruben Sierra was released Monday. The original plan was to wait until Monday to officially recall Baker, so that he could start that night's game against Tampa Bay at the Metrodome.The timetable figures to change with the uncertainty now surrounding the rotiation. The Twins had two starters, Francisco Liriano and Johan Santana, in Tuesday night's All-Star Game. There also will be a medical consultation today on the condition of Carlos Silva's right knee. He complained of soreness and left Saturday's start in which he was getting ripped by Kansas City.
Baker is 3-2 with a ! 2.92 ERA in seven starts for Rochester. Baker was 2-5 with a 6.06 ERA in nine starts for the Twins earlier this season.
Batling Eric found this on YouTube, and whoever posted it is some kind of crazy wonderful genius, and Batgirl wants more more more.
This is clearly why the Doctor has gotten so good this season. He discovered you could use the thing to play hockey.
MINNEAPOLIS (AP) — The Minnesota Twins released veteran pinch hitter Ruben Sierra on Monday, ending his injury-plagued stint with the team. Sierra hit .179 with one double and four RBIs in just 28 at-bats this season. The 40-year-old spent six weeks on the disabled list after rupturing the biceps tendon near his left elbow, and never really got much playing time after that in his role as a pinch hitter. He also had a strained quadriceps muscle in spring training that kept him from joining the team for opening day. He has 306 home runs and 1,322 RBIs in 20 major league seasons....The Twins said they will make an additional roster move to replace Sierra on the 25-man roster prior to Thursday night's game against Cleveland.
Due to injury, Francisco Liriano will be joining Messeurs Joseph P. Mauer and Johan K. Santana in the All-Star Game on Tuesday.
Sweet.
Picture courtesy of Eric
Twins at Texas. Weekend Round-Up.
Friday. Rangers 9, Twins 4.
Saturday. Twins 4, Rangers 0.
Sunday. Rangers 5, Twins 2.
Batgirl and Jeb went to see Superman Returns on Saturday, and I do not think it will spoil anything to say there is some kryptonite used in the course of the moving picture. Kryptonite is basically a chunk of Superman's home world that landed on Earth after the planet went all Alderaan and it's super deadly to Superman. (Can anyone shed any light on how this is? Because having your own world be toxic to you seems like particularly bad planning to BG. Unless it's like that old Todd Haynes/Julianne Moore movie where she ends up dressed all in white surgical clothes living in some bubble in Arkansas or Arizona or, you know, France. But that doesn't seem quite right.)
Anyway, the Kryptonite is all part of Lex Luthor's diabolical plan to—well, BG's still not so sure but basically the aftereffects look a lot like the ones of global warming in Al Gore's PowerPoint presentation. "Superman will never let you [DO WHATEVER IT IS THAT YOUR EVIL PLAN IS]," says Lois Lane. "But he's not counting on this!" says Lex Luthor, pulling out a tube of the green stuff. "Where did you get that, you bald-headed bitch monkey?" demands Lois. "Don't worry your pretty little head about that," says Luthor. "Don't patronize me!" says Lois. "Patronize this!" says Luthor.
It went something like that, anyway. The point is, there's Kryptonite, Lex Luthor's a bastard, and Kate Bosworth doesn't make a very good Lois Lane but any movie that has Parker Posey in it is okay with Batgirl. And eventually, as happens, Superman stumbles upon Luthor and said diabolical plan and pretty soon our guy is on the wrong end of a Kryptonite popsicle stick. This is when things start to look pretty bad for the Man of Steel and he begins to roll around and around and Luthor's thugs start kicking the crap out of him. And it's horrible to watch, truly painful, because—that's Superman! Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a locomotive! He fights for truth and justice and he's a huge superhero and you're not supposed to kick him.
Well, I think you know where I'm going with this. Watching Superman get beat-up by a bunch of deadbeats is roughly how it feels to watch Johan Santana give up two home runs in one game. That's just not supposed to happen. And even if someone did lash a bunch of Kryptonite to him (Um….exploded Venezuelan rock?) you should, Mr. Texas Ranger, have a little more respect.
The thing about Superman stories, though, is that truth and justice always prevails (unless it's Superman 3 or 4, in which case crap prevails) and you know eventually the guy's going to be okay and the dudes that kicked him are going to be extremely sorry, and if Superman doesn't get you, Superboy will, and so we must comfort ourselves that somehow, someway these guys will get theirs, and either end up encased in the earth or orbiting the planet forever trapped in a big piece of space plexiglass.
(And if you have no idea what BG's talking about, get thee to a video store, for god's sakes, and while you're at it, rent The Karate Kid, because you all are making Batgirl feel very, very old.)
And as painful as it is to watch, we've seen this story enough to know we just have to bide our time until Superman returns.
BatNote: A long All-Star break ahead of us. May BG suggest you pass it by playing Kurtis' Lew Ford's Astral Battles! and also taking NYBrian's Which Twins Pitcher Are You Quiz?
Why is this BatBaby smiling?
Because her boyfriend broke up a scoreless game, that's why. And because BatBabies dig the long ball. And because that losing streak was getting way old. And it's about time Sweetcheeks made something happen, and she wants to encourage him to do it again. And all that makes you, Sweetcheeks, the Boyfriend of the Day.
Goober/Doctor: 15; Readers/The Field: 12; Batbaby/Torii: 8; Batgirl/Chairman 6; Jeb/ Lewwww3; Sooz/Stewie 3.
BatMail from WonderWoman:
Dear Batgirl,I am wondering if you saw the interview on Fox 9 last Sunday with Justin and Joe?
Justin digs the Kraft Easy Mac - I have no idea how many little packets he has to eat to get full - but on their previous road trip he made sure their equipment manager had some on hand in case Justin could not find any.
Justin is the messier of the two and was quite proud of himself when he loaded the dishwasher!
He doesn't mind that Joe gets more attention when they are out together - he is almost relieved that he is an afterthought =)
They have a maid -
They have a fondness for Animal Planet or some animal show when they watch TV - Joe couldn't remember - but it had animals in it.
They like the vacation channel and dream of where they would like to go after the season - as Justin says "somewhere sunny so he can work on his tan" - Justin said he wouldn't mind being the host of that channel - I think that's what he said.
When they have an off day - they just chill - sometimes they take their paintball guns and shoot them at the trees - in Joe's back yard I assume - Joe did have to make it clear to Justin that the dog was off limits- Joe did not want an orange dog.
Justin said they are too young to remember the odd couple - so Jim Rich had him pick another couple to compare them to - Justin said they are more like Dumb and Dumber - he said he was more like Harry.
Justin - ate all of Joe's ice cream - once.Sincerely,
WonderWoman
The Chairman isn't feeling so good! Apparently, he has some "digestive" issues. Justin Morneau swears its not his cooking, so--what's in Joe Mauer's tummy?
Can't decide? Meditate on the topic while playing Lew Ford's Astral Battles!
Batgirl thought the Mauerist slogans were so wonderful she decided to make shirts of the top three winners. First, the Ultimate Victor:
Crouching Mauer, Hitting Dragon
Then, the two runners-up:
Mauer to the People.
(The wording of this one evolved in the comments, but if someone would like the original "Mauer to the Meople," please let BG know.)
AND:
The Chairman's Bat is Benevolence to the People and Misery to the Opposition.
Thanks to all who entered. Long live the Chairman!
And the official verdict on Dr. Morneau: By 38% of the vote, Justin Morneau is DREAMY.
According to DickN'Bert, Boof Bonser was sent down because the Twins won't need a #5 starter for two weeks and they wanted him to get some work in. When the slot comes up again, either Bonser or Baker/Nutty will be called up.
At last count, Liriano is behind AJ Pierzynski in the Final Vote. Vote Cisco. Now. Voting closes at five. (Click on the poster to the left...)
Twins at Kansas City. Royals 6, Twins 3.
The Shire of Kauffman was hardly the most distinguished in the land; in fact after a prosperous beginning several years ago it had become the lamest shire in all of the kingdom. Every year the landed gentry of Kaufman tried to improve their lot, even convincing other noblemen from around the land to move to the lowly fiefdom with promises of long term contracts and cries of, "All we need is a veteran presence!"
Lately, though, things had begun to turn around for Kauffmanshire, thanks largely to interleague play, not to mention the pitching of one Lord Duckworth who had won three straight. But Lord Duckworth was not very popular among the peasants of neighboring HumpDomeShire, as his knights tended to steal their women and fondle their chickens.
"We must do something about the nefarious Lord Duckworth," said local blacksmith Wee Nicholas Punto.
"We must challenge him to some kind of competitive activity!" exclaimed Michael Cuddyer.
"But what?" asked Torrance Hunter. "Lord Duckworth is master of all Kauffmanshire! He can get all the landed gentry to do battle with us!"
"Yeah, but they suck," said Punto.
"Excellent point, my good man. Nonetheless, what can we, a misfit ragtag band of peasants and tradesmen and Triple A refugees, do against a man like Lord Duckworth?"
Well, after some discussion it was determined that the poor of HumpDomeShire would challenge Lord Duckworth and the likes of Sir Mientkiewicz and Sir Grudzielanek to a game of chickball (which, of course, had derived from the Ancient Greek game of bak ball) which involved players trying to hit a egg as far as they could and run quickly from chicken to chicken. The team with the most chickens at the end of the game won. (You sort of had to see it.)
"Chickball it is!" cried Punto.
"We'll show that Lord Duckworth!" cried Lewis Ford.
"For our women!" shouted Cuddyer.
"For our chickens!" cried Punto.
When Lord Duckworth heard of the peasants' challenge, he quacked with laughter. "This ragtag misfit band of peasants and tradesmen and refugees from the Lost Land of Triple A thinks they can take on Lord Duckworth? Why, they are nothing but a band of Lady Skimmingtons!"
Well, when the match began, Lord Duckworth made quick work of the HumpDomers, making even hot young groomsman Joseph Mauer ground weakly to second chicken. Meanwhile, among the chickball players, the mood was growing a little testy, and from each dugout the insults began to fly.
"Fie upon thee, you beslubbering, beef-witted bum-bailey!" shouted town doctor Justin Morneau.
"Forsooth say I, you yeasty, elf-skinned footlicker!" called back Sir DeJesus.
"Bathe thyself, thou mewling Bitch Sox loving pignut!" screamed rockpicker Bart Bartlett.
Young Bartlett proved to be able to put his leather where his mouth is, showing all of HumpDome his fine glovework and excellent leadership qualities. Meanwhile, young Mauer proved the finest chickball player in all the land when he golfed an egg in the dirt resulting in two chickens for the peasants. And for a time it looked as if these ragtag bunch of misfitters might prevail. And Lord Duckworth was quickly sent to the bathing pit.
"Yay!" said the women.
"Yay!" said the chickens.
But the exuberance of the Humpdomers quickly got away from them and egg hurler Jesse Crain kept putting landed gentry on chicken, and soon all the people of Kauffmanshire won a dozen free donuts. The game fell apart when HumpDome sheepherder Young John Rincon was temporarily struck with a vision of the future. "Someday," he said, "there will be a game such as this, but instead of chickball it will be called Crazy Pepe's Chug and Toss and it will be a beautiful game and it will go something like this..."
Well, the rest is Humpdomeshire history, and when notified of the error, Rincon was heard to say, "No one wants to be in my pantaloons right now."
After the game, the tradespeople and peasants and refugees left a little older, a little wiser, and all out of chickens. As for the chickens, as they left in the hands of various very happy looking Kauffmanshire knights, one was heard to mutter under his breath, "I hate you guys."
BatNote: Liriano leads the whole "Final Vote" boondoggle by a "slim" margin over AJ. You can bet all of Bitch Soxia will be trying to change that today. (EDIT: And they have, Cisco is now in second place). So right now, go vote for Cisco ten times, then vote again ten more at lunch. Tell your boss Batgirl said so. For Cisco!
BatNote 2: A while ago, Batgirl posted about The Portage Grand Slam Gala at the June 17th game. The Portage is a St. Paul organization devoted to helping at risk girls. Now, the Portage is offering a 2 for 1 ticket deal to the gala. For $45 you get two lower reserve tickets to the July 17th game, plus dinner before the game, a chance to meet Tony Oliva, and you're also entered in a drawing to throw out the first pitch at a future game, not to mention supporting a worthy cause by doing what you’d do anyway—going to see the Twins. For more information, please see The Portage Grand Slam Gala.
TWINS MAKE ROSTER MOVE Minneapolis, MN– The Minnesota Twins announced today that they have optioned righthanded pitcher Boof Bonser to Rochester (AAA, International League). Since being recalled on May 19, Bonser went 2-2, 5.30 (35.2 ip, 21 er), allowing 40 hits with 12 walks and 27 strikeouts in seven starts for the Twins. To replace Bonser on the 25-man roster, the Twins will make an additional roster move prior to Friday night’s game at Texas.
Thanks infield.
Dear Batgirl,
In light of the Twins recent offensive surge, I did up a quick Photoshop last night.
I like to call it, "I'm the Juggernaut, Bitch."
Sincerely,
Will
Dear Mr. Will,
Very appropriate. I hope you don't mind if I use it to give the Good Doctor Mrneau the Boyfriend of the Day.
Sincerely,
Batgirl
Goober/Doctor: 15; Readers/The Field: 12; Batbaby/Torii: 7; Batgirl/Chairman 6; Jeb/ Lewwww3; Sooz/Stewie 3.
Batgirl's out of town, so no recaps until Wednesday's game. To bide your time until then, Batgirl is very proud to present, courtesy of Kurtis, Lew Ford's Astral Battles!
Thanks for the awesome game, Kurtis. And Lew, keep on reaching for those stars!
Joe Mauer.
Joe and Jo will be representing the Twins in Pittsburgh this year. Liriano really should have been there, but we can pretty much expect it to be the last year that the Cisco Kid isn't on the All-Star team. And if Morneau keeps it up, he'll be there next year too. As for the Veep, the whole organization owes him a written apology for simply not giving him enough save opportunities to get there. Batgirl apologizes sincerely for anything she did.
EDIT Remember all those email addresses for your cats, toes, and ancestors? You can VOTE for Liriano on the Final Vote.
Ten in a row! Swept the homestand! So much winning.
It's exhausting. In April, the BODSHC only had to do one of these things every six days or so. This is a hard one, and BG gives a big nod to Stewie and the Doctor, but, you know, as Goober said last week...
Sorry We Made All Your Bitches Sit Down.
Goober/Doctor: 14; Readers/The Field: 12; Batbaby/Torii: 7; Batgirl/Chairman 6; Jeb/ Lewwww3; Sooz/Stewie 3.
June's AL Player of the Month: Joe Mauer
June's AL Pitcher of the Month: Johan K. Santana
June's AL Rookie of the Month: Francisco Liriano
"Hey," said Shannon Stewart upon coming off the DL, "What the heck happened to my position?"
"Oh, well, there's this Jason Kubel kid, and, well..."
"And my line-up slot? What the heck happened there?"
"Oh, well, you know, the line-up's working really well now and..."
"I see," said Shannon Stewart.
"No, I mean, Stewie, you've meant so much to our team, we just don't want to hurry you back and..."
"Uh-huh"
"...And, you know, we're just going to start you slow."
"I see," said Shannon Stewart. "Well, how about this. How about I go 4-4 and get the Boyfriend of the Day? Would that be slow enough for you?"
Goober/Doctor: 14; Readers/The Field: 11; Batbaby/Torii: 7; Batgirl/Chairman 6; Jeb/ Lewwww3; Sooz/Stewie 3.
Batgirl's out of town 'til Wednesday and blogging will be light for the next few days, but thanks to the wonders of Satellite radio she was able to catch the Twins' EIGHTH WIN IN A ROW. This is awesome, because as far as I can tell, we then lose the next game, win eight more, lose one, win eight, and on and on until the end of the season. Which will have us end up precisely 11 games behind the Tigers.
But that's no matter--tonight's game was rather emblematic of this awesome streak--good pitching (thanks Bradke. Sorry about, um, everything I said before), great hitting (dingers! doubles! dingers and doubles!) and finding a BOD is a little hard, because today they are ALL boyfriends. In fact, you know what?--tonight we close a month of June that has been nothing short of spectacular, and I want each and every Minnesota Twin, from the Littlest Nicky Punto to the biggest Dennys Sampler Reyes to look in the mirror and say, "Today, for giving Batgirl that awesome month of June, I am the BOD!"
But I suppose someone has to get this thing. The player of the game was Tiffles, but one player reached a rather awesome milestone tonight, one which portends very bright things for all of our futures. Justin Morneau hit his 20th homerun tonight--the first Twin to get to 20 HRs in June since Kent Hrbek. And, frankly, every time the good Doctor does something Hrbek-like, BG gets all gooey inside, because the Doc's had the potential to be the second coming of Hrbie for some time, and as he moves from Morneau to Mrneau, that makes him the Boyfriend of the Day.
Goober/Doctor: 14; Readers/The Field: 11; Batbaby/Torii: 7; Batgirl/Chairman 6; Jeb/ Lewwww3; Sooz/Stewie 2
