free at last
Tom Kelly, when he says no call Paul Molitor, if he says no call Charles Theodore Davis or Gary Gaetti and should you somehow slip the Chili & Cheese past the rat dial M for Mientkiewicz, Doug and if he prefers the high life on ice on Fort Myers Beach, and who wouldn't, well then drop a dime and ask for A.J. Pierzynski. There you have it, my blurred vision of a Twins future I hope to be a part of as I sign off from my foray into the societal depths of the blog world. Ron Gardenhire's contract is finally up and either resolution - renewal or dismissal - spells the end of this site's purpose. I did what I could for the cause the rest is in God's hands and absent his, some other benevolent entity whom I've fallen out of favor with will settle Gardy's fate so I might as well use this occasion to throw one last dirty forkball at far easier targets. Ron Gardenhire was never an easy target, most Minnesotans love a marshmallowy mascot. In retrospect, after being schooled for 15 years by Tom Kelly, I probably had unrealistic expectations. TK set the bar high, that's what I know about Twins baseball but I digress....To the GM of the Washington Nationals: may you annually come close but never reach the NLCS. Ever. You know what you did. To Chase Headley: you hit .286 with 31 HR's and 115 RBI's last year while getting to play in paradise. I can't imagine that San Diego life cashing for millions yet after the season the unfairness of playing in Petco Park weighed heavily on your mind, telling reporters "...but I feel the overall goal should be for it to play fair for pitchers and hitters and since its been built it hasn't been fair to hitters" (mlb.com 10/22/12). And so the stadium retracted - the Padres retracted the one F'n asset that made them competitive but surely Chase could play the role of bigger asset given smaller dimensions to overcome? As of 9/23/13, 494 at bats, .243 with 13 HR's and 45 RBI's, and don't let those #'s fool you 5 of those HR's came during a meaningless September. My wish for you is to be dealt to Boston where for the rest of your career you wont be able to take your eyes off Pesky's Pole yet never get it up near it again. To Joe Girardi I am eternally grateful, for proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that there are primates on this planet I prefer Gardy to. I would take another decade of Ron Gardenhire over six months with both sides of your mouth, one explaining "that element of human error in the game" after a Joe Mauer extra inning ALDS double nowhere near the chalk is stolen in the Bronx, just another victim of Yankee Stadium mystique, the other drooling onto microphones three Octobers later after a judgment call at 2nd base during game 2 of the 2012 ALCS costs you a potential run during a contest in which the Tigers shut you out 3 - 0, "Lets have instant replay...I am not saying we win the game, I am not saying that...but in this day and age there is too much at stake and the technology is available. That's what our country has done. We have evolved technology to make things better." (espn.com 10/14/12). I can only imagine how many concussions he's suffered but the severity of the hemorrhage didn't become fully apparent until this August when he publicly chastised fans on the south side of Chicago, where they'll slap a tag-team beat down on opposing first base coaches, for mildly cheering when A-Fraud's elbow was grazed by an inside pitch near the belt, after a 3 - 2 loss to the White Sox "...there's something wrong with that, I often think that it starts from the adults and if it was their child would they want them to be hit? Because the kids will only repeat what the adults do." (espn.com 8/6/13). You know what I take back that primate comment, I was giving you way too much credit. That quote alone qualifies you to run things in New York where they ban 16 ounce sodas but allow the guy who shot John Lennon in the back 4 times conjugal visits. To the Kansas City Royals (14 & 5 vs the 2013 MN Twins) welcome back to the Division. It's been awhile. I'm unable to conjure up any childhood memories of Royals beating up on me other than 4th of July's when I felt most pumped up & patriotic only to be torn apart by the awful spectacle of the alleged rebels of American tennis bowing before the freaks in Wimbledon's royal box an annual degradation lasting a fortnight. As long as I'm east of the pond I might as well attack the people of France. Congratulations, National League hitters could never square up Christy Mathewson (lifetime 2.13 ERA) but you found a way, paving the path to his eventual death at age 45 after he found himself in Paris rather than the ballpark, inhaling not barbeque but mustard gas, because once again you couldn't put up a fight against your comparably sized neighbor. Get me back on American soil, we don't make the same mistake twice, right? Anyone? Well I know at the very least Steve Bartman wouldn't, other than him I give no man the benefit of the doubt. To the fans who continually reach into fair & foul territory for a foreign-made baseball while their hometown team is in the field: may you be forced to compete between innings in those giant-head races, winner can go back to his padded seat, loser is spotlight ushered out of the stadium in costume. I never want to leave the ballpark early so I'm not a threat but I do have demands of the network executives who run MLB's Xtra Innings package. Dear Sirs, you have a dream job in baseball but I'll bet more than a few of you on Fall weekends exchange some of your casino, liquor and lottery money for great seats to college football games. Now imagine you look forward to one particular game per year and when you arrive Matt Millen is sitting nearby and he doesn't stop explaining the game to you for 3 1/2 hours.That's 210 minutes for you to weigh the pros & cons of either jumping from the stadium's highest point or ending up at Pen State for aggravated assault. Are you telling me the technology doesn't exist to allow the television viewer, OF ANY SPORT, the option of a purely stadium feed where I get crowd noise & the public address announcer. Just give me freedom of choice, I'm willing to pay for the service, naturally. That reminds me, I'm also in the market for a TV screen saver, you know like waves crashing against a beach, that disappears when the game resumes. Live action - network feed leaves the stadium - screen saver - and we are back. Just think little kids everywhere would never again have to ask a parent about the baby boomer in the commercial with a 4 hour erection and the implications of that cohort sticking us all. I got off track there I was trying to say that we all have Matt Millen's in our own lives (sometimes 3 of them are jammed into a booth at the same time leaving only enough room for 1 box of saltines) so please just add $20 to my monthly cable bill and make it happen. While my wallet's out here's twenty more, sign me up for the VIP Xtra Innings package which provides me with 2, and only 2, operational cameras in the ballpark. The center field camera is obviously trained on the pitcher as he throws through the duration of the crack of the bat. At that point the camera behind home plate takes over and remains in control after the result of the pitch is over. I want to see the infield and what depth they're at - where's the hole to be found - is the outfield shallow, shaded or playing prevent defense back at the track. Finally the pitcher, having just jerked off a rosin bag for a full minute, gets near the rubber at which point the chimp in the control booth switches cameras. Rinse. Repeat. I know what you're thinking, oh come on you're just trying to wish away the fans near the dugouts who wave every time their cell phone tells them to, and you're right wishing them away wont make it happen but the 2 camera option is the next best thing and again I'm willing to pay heavily for it. All this talk of debt drives me in desperation toward California. La-La Land where they pray to a tooth fairy but really anyone's spare change will do, so before my piggy bank slides off the shelf with them the least I could do is tape a few nickels inside a get well soon card and mail it to the GM and the owner in Anaheim who was crippled by him (physically by Albert Pujols, mentally by Josh Hamilton, and spiritually by Joe Blanton). Best wishes for a speedy recovery from your man-made disaster but if I never hear from you again I'll understand. What's beyond comprehension lies just to the west in Chavez Ravine where somehow they've come to terms with a Yankee captain managing the Dodgers. Wasn't it only three months ago that Don Mattingly was the 1 idiot in a sea of 50,000 willing to hand the ball to Brandon League in 9th inning save situations. He did it voluntarily and he did it repeatedly even when he was fully aware that each game could be his last. You could feel the tension in the stadium and not just from the upper deck fan on fan violence. Everyone had moved on from Brandon except the guy being paid for his instincts. At game number 64 while nine games under .500 the Don boldly turned to Kenley Jansen and before the credits could roll he rode off into an October sunset, silver horseshoe squarely up his ass, taking with him the last of my desire to ever write about a big league manager again & countless gold gloves that he stole from Kent Hrbek during the 80's.
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