Friday, May 29, 2009
And now we're off to Tampa. And there's no Jason Bartlett. Which, on one hand, makes the games less interesting. But on the other hand, it DOES make it easier to draw clearer lines of allegiance.
In other news, I have this Post-It note block that has all the MLB team logos on the sides. I'm now at the point where using anymore sheets will start eating into the pictures. Luckily, the first row of teams are the Yankees, A's, Red Sox, White Sox, and the Rockies. Sorry Rockies...I don't dislike you, but you are collateral damage, I'm afraid.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
I did test the waters, to see if my bad luck had worn off yet, on Sunday by wearing a Twins shirt. The Twins won, but there was all that nasty HBP nonsense, so I decided not to chance it today and stayed away one more day. So, I take no blame for this one. I have a feeling that even if we all had all the good mojo in the Universe working for us, the result would be the same.
Having purposely avoided watching (to avoid involuntary cheering) today's game, I can't say too much about it. But I WILL say that, if what I heard was true, booing Delmon Young=unnecessary and classless. This isn't Philly. Have a heart.
While I did my best to ward bad jou jou off for the Twins, there was nothing I could do to help the poor poor players on my fantasy baseball teams. During the past week, countless have fallen to injury and/or crippling horrible-at-baseball slumps. I think my luck is turning now (fingers crossed, knock on wood, etc. etc.), but the past week or so, I have been the kiss of death. As I considered some roster moves in a couple leagues, I just drummed my fingers together, Mr. Burns-style and said "Hmmm....whose career do I want to ruin THIS week?"
But like I said, I think/hope/pray my luck is shifting a bit so I might even try to enjoy a Twins game and cheer for the right side again. Unless something bad happens, obviously.
[EDIT] I may have spoken too soon about my luck shifting....I wrote it before I saw that hand-crushing line drive that took Pirates' closer Matt Capps out. Matt is on two of my fantasy teams. Draw your own conclusions.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Since he's always a good spokesman for the team, we thought maybe Cuddy could start it off. And maybe his Twitter account could be called "CuddyTweets". Just a thought that we had. (There may have been a little chanting.)
Monday, May 11, 2009
If it happens again, you will be in time-out for a very long time and I will take your X-Box away.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
- Since the beginning of the season, Nick Swisher has visited the White House AND rung the bell to open the New York Stock Exchange. I worry that we might be letting Nick Swisher get a teeny tiny bit too close to Things That Are Vitally Important To Our Nation's Survival. I fret about this at night sometimes. Seriously.
- Matt's Studio 54 is my new favorite Twins' player charity name. Yes, it has even bumped Cuddy's Buddies. Kids won't get it. I don't care.
- Since Blue Bunny is in charge of Twins Territory Ice Cream Operations now, does that mean that Kemp's will stop making the Twins-themed ice cream they sell in stores? I really hope not, because that Peanut Butter Pennant stuff is BOMB.
- For like a week and a half, Barry Zito's Twitter user pic was an odd webcam picture of himself sitting in front of his computer shirtless. At first, you would think that that would be kind of cool, right? Barry's a nice looking dude and all. But NO. It was, in fact, kind of creepy and weird. I did not like it and prayed every day that Barry Zito would put his shirt back on. He finally did, and it was good.
- At the New Era cap stands in the Metrodome, they now sell pink Twins caps that are scratch and sniff. They smell like watermelon. At least I assume they smell like watermelon, because there are little watermelon slice appliques on the caps. I do not understand this at all. Can anyone explain why this is a) necessary or b) appealing? I am afraid ask the New Era Cap Salesmen because they seem kind of aggressive.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
“You should be on American Idol, Prince Joe!” the children would shout.
“Woof Woof!” the puppies would bark in agreement.
“Aw, shucks,” Prince Joe would say, and tip his cap to the crowd.
This went on for quite some time.
But one dark and stormy night, something went terribly, terribly wrong.
Prince Joe was quiet. Very quiet. Quieter than normal, which is saying quite a bit.
“Why isn’t Prince Joe singing?” asked the children quietly amonst themselves.
The puppies whined and whimpered with foreboding.
Prince Joe tried to sing, but nothing came out.
“I don’t feel so good….” muttered Prince Joe, just before collapsing in a heap on the ground.
Prince Joe fell into a deep and mystical sleep, and could not be woken up by anybody.
Doctors and specialists from all over the kingdom visited Sleeping Joe. But no matter how much they poked, or how much they prodded, they could not provide a satisfactory explanation for exactly what was wrong with Prince Joe, what could have possibly caused it, or for how long he could be expected to be in this condition.
So Prince Joe slept on.
But without his enchanted song, the kingdom began to fall apart around him.
Everyone was fairly certain that the birds were chirping off-key. Babies seemed fussier and cried all the time. Farmers swore that their crops were half a shade duller.
People complained that the food in the kingdom no longer tasted like cotton candy and dreams, but rather reminded them of wet garbage and Pine-Sol.
And without Prince Joe to follow around, the children turned to vandalism for entertainment, while the bored puppies settled for defecating in neighbors’ gardens.
Things were a mess.
But then, one day, as mysteriously as the unexplained mystical illness appeared, it left. Prince Joe began to stir from his mystical slumber.
“Oh my!” exclaimed the doctors and specialists.
“Thank goodness!” shouted the farmers.
“Hooray!” yelled the children, as they dropped their cans of spray paint.
“Arf Arf!” barked the puppies, who were so excited to see Prince Joe that they peed a little.
“SING THE MAGIC SONG, JOE!” cried everyone.
“Save the kingdom, Joe!” screamed a particularly panicked Prince Joe Fan, wearing stick-on Prince Joe replica sideburns.
“Aw, shucks,” said Joe. “I’ll try. But I’m kind of rusty.”
And Joe tried. He sang very, very softly. But the words definitely sounded something like
“Call the games, and hit for average. Trim the ‘burns, then have a beverage….”
There was much rejoicing throughout the kingdom. Brids chirped wildly, and in perfect hormony. The children and puppies were hanging on every note. One farmer swore his crops were once again a half shade greener. Babies cooed and giggled. But there was only one way to know for sure if the magic was back…..
“Somebody eat something!” yelled the panicky fan with fake sideburns.
One brave little boy picked up an apple, and took a big bite.
“Well,” he said, “it definitely doesn’t taste like wet garbage. Or Pine-Sol. So that’s a big step forward. I think I might taste a little cotton candy. And I’m sure I can detect a hint of dreams!”
“Huzzah!” cried the townsfolk.
Prince Joe was back. The magic song was back. Life was good again.
“Um…” Prince Joe cleared his throat. “You know, if I really did fix everything with my magic song….when my Princely contract runs out…..I think maybe you should pay me more. Since I am the only one who really knows the words and everything.”
“Yeah….sure…..we’ll talk about that later,” said the town elders.
“You wouldn’t want me to wander away and take my song somewhere else, like Boston for instance, would you?” Asked Prince Joe. “All the children and puppies would follow me, you know.”
“No, of course not. We’ll talk about it later, OK?”
And they would.
But for right now, everyone was content to bask in the magic of Prince Joe and his enchanted song.
Prince Joe would keep singing at least until 2011, barring any relapses of mystery illnesses or any pandemic flu outbreaks or American Idol auditions. And everyone would live happily ever after.
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