Back to the Homeland

What up world,

I'm back in Minnesota for a couple of weeks. The fact that it coincides with the pennant run in not a coincidence. I'm putting everything into getting the Twins into the postseason. I'm convinced that without my presence in this state, the Twins will crumble and fall.

Okay, it is a coincidence. And my presence here doesn't seem to have helped the Twins or the Vikings for that matter. My return has only brought destruction and ruin upon the home teams. The Twins have lost three in a row with ass-bats and bullpen full of poop. The culmination of which was Horse-Face Nathan being extra horsey last night in the 12th. Believe me when I say that the hurt is that much worse when watching the action on tv rather than on-line.

In addition to their play, the Twins made the decision to go with Target as their new ballpark namesake. I've got no problem with Target as a corporation or a store. I've walked into Target several times with plans to buy a tube of toothpaste or a pair of socks and walked out with hundreds of dollars of merchandise. I can't help myself.

It's just that Target Field just doesn't sound quite right in my head. You can't say, "I'm headed to Target for the game tonight." It sounds like you are going to spend the evening in the electronics department, playing Xbox games and perusing the movie section. You can abbreviate other AL Central ballparks names. "I'm going to the Jake" or "I'm headed to the Cell" sound much better than "I'm on my way to Target". At what point will Target be allowed their own freestanding army that takes over the state with lethal force?

I can live with the Twins not playing well. I was reminded last night by a friend that we didn't expect anything out of the Twins this season. They are a young team that is supposed to be gearing up for the 2010 season. We have a pitching staff that just finished up puberty and an outfield full of guys that can't get into an R-rated movie. So I'm okay with them at least being close. Some magic still might happen by the end of the season. I can even deal with Target Field mainly because it's not the Metrodome. Outdoor baseball at long last. Praise Purple Jesus. The thing that I find the most dissappointing, the thing that makes me want to punt small children and punch my grandmother, is the play of the Vikings.

I had such high expectations going into the season. Everything seemed to be falling in place perfectly. A defense full of thugs and hicks (Jared and Chad I'm looking in your direction), an offensive line that could feed a third of Africa with their man-meat, and a running back that decended from the heavens to save our purple-clad heathens. The only question was whether our quarterback could deliver a pass downfield every once in a while.

From all offseason reports, Tavaris Jackson was looking good. Much better than the inconsistent player from last season. Maybe with a play every now and again, he could back that extra defensive guy out of the box. I had so much hope for my boy T-Jack. There are so many cool ways that you can say his name. T-Jack, Tav Jackson, T, T-bone, TJ, Tav Jacks. He wears sweet necklaces. I wanted to be cheering for him for the whole season and for seasons to come.

I'm choosing to focus more of my blame on Chilli Willi, his mustache in particular. I think that his infamous quarterback development and "kick-ass" offensive gameplan have failed the team more than Jackson's errant throws, but I'll leave that for another day. Now we have to turn to Gus Frerotte, maybe the least cool name in the NFL. How could the name Gus strike fear in other teams? I don't see Julius Peppers saying, "Oh my God, we have to face Gus this week!"

Regardless of what has happened so far, we are stuck with G-Frer going forward. I will be convincing myself for the rest of the week that his cagey veteran leadership will steer the offense in a new direction. Purple Jesus will bless him with 1,000 yards on the ground, and Berrian will stop complaining about his biggest piggy. There's still hope left.

A Vikings win this weekend, some scrappy play by the Twins, and someone breaking Aaron Rodger's huge nose would be an awfully nice homecoming present. Let's make this happen.

-Sota