Road Weary

What up world,

Another day, another road loss. The Twins are now 5 and 15 away from the friendly, temperature controlled confines of the Metrodome, giving them the worst record in the league. Worse than Oakland and Colorado. Worse than the Washington Nationals, who have won only 13 games total. It's gross. I understand that traveling can be difficult, but I think with some proper planning, the team could be better prepared. For this purpose, I've decided to talk to a few of the key players, to provide something of a mental checklist for the games. Conversation recaps are below:

Scottie Baker: After giving up another three run dinger last night, you really need to get your act together, Scottie. In the three games that you've pitched on the road, you have an ERA over 8 and you've given up 7 home runs. 7!!! In three games! I'm sorry to yell. No, don't cry. Just make sure that you pack Cuddles and go to sleep as early as possible. You need your 10 hours, Scottie.

Saint Francisco: Your holiness, I'm sorry to have to say this, but you've stunk on the road. Like a skunk that's been baking in the sun for a few days. You have a 7.62 ERA and have given up 20 walks in 26 innings pitched. That's not you. You were supposed to be our ace, and people are starting to question their faith. Remember to bring along your holy water, and take the necessary time to bless the mound before starting the game. I still believe Saint! Show me a sign!

Jesse Crain: I want you to be good. I want people to stand and cheer for you when you enter a game. I want you to throw 1,000 mph fastballs that have some sort of movement on them. I want people to wear fake versions of your dirty goatee, like they do with Jo Jo Ma's sideburns. A great way for this to happen is to not lose games. Especially on the road. My advice: Eat some extra flapjacks with an extra dose of maple syrup at the start of the game (ed. note; he's from Canada).

Mike Redmond: I think that we can both agree that the team is playing a little tight right now. We need wins, but we can't play that way. That's why I'm instituting naked Red-Dog time for every road trip. I will let you decide when and where you would like to present yourself, whether that is during batting practice, in the locker room, or throughout the hotel hallways. What I do know is that naked time needs to happen.

Carlos Gomez, Brendan Harris, Matt Tolbert, Delmon Young: Stop sucking.

Jo Jo Ma: Jo Jo, you are awesome. Can you please spread some of your awesomeness to other members of the team?

I had a conference call with the entire team, encouraging them to remember their toothbrushes and to get a decent amount of sleep. Gomez even agreed to stop making forts in his room until the wee hours of the night.

The situation had grown dire enough that I even decided to post on the weekend. And that never happens. However, after the pep talk and some soul searching, I think that things are going to start turning around, starting with the game this afternoon. Let's be some road warriors boys.

The Ballad of Jo Jo Ma

What up world,

Sorry for the brief absence. I'm back up, and fully functional. Especially after an invigorating visit from the Brew Crew. Thank you Milwaukee for continuing to be our collective whipping boys. Mmmm, you really can taste the hops.

While the Twins persist in alternating between awesome and frustrating, there has been one constant: the beautiful nature of Joe Mauer's game.



Jo Jo Ma has been crafting awe inspiring harmonies for years through the play of his cello. Some say that his parents put the instrument in his crib while he was an infant. There were no teddy bears or nookies, just a bow and the cello. By the age of 4, he was already creating his own melodies and had begun to work on his first full orchestra symphony. And he did it all left handed.

When his fingers were too blistered from playing, he would venture into his backyard and hit a few bombs into other St. Paul backyards. One summer he decided to earn a little extra cash by having a newspaper route. He would stand at the end of his driveway and chuck papers into every home in the neighborhood with pinpoint accuracy. Occasionally, when feeling extremely energized, he would stand in the middle of the street and receive hits from passing cars, just to see if he could hold onto a ball.

But his first love was always the cello. For years, Jo Jo worked on his craft. When he first became a professional, he was still developing some key aspects of his skill. He would lace concertos into the left-center section of the Ordway on a consistent basis. Occasionally he would show flashes of his overall cello game, but it wasn't with regularity. His immense fan base demanded more. They clamored to see Jo Jo Ma in all his glory, wanting him to finally deliver the masterful symphony that they knew he possessed inside of him.

After an offseason of uncertainty and some amounts of doubt, Jo Jo Ma returned this concert season with a briefcase full of sheet music and a newly found power stroke. In 23 concerts, he delivered 11 home runs. Twins fans were singing his name in the streets. Finally, Jo Jo was delivering on the promise of his early career, giving us power while still playing with average.

It's been an amazing month with Jo Jo. Let's all hope that this mastery of the instrument continues throughout the remainder of the season, and that the entire Twins roster can find some sort of consistency in their lineup.

Follow the genius of Jo Jo Ma, boys. Hear the sweet, sweet music...

Battle of the Bratwurst

What up world,

I'm starting to be taunted by my blogging friends for not posting anything. How's this for a post, Brent? Suck it.

I don't have a lot of time to dedicate to today's entry. The Twins have been nothing short of disappointing so far, the Timberwolves lost out of the Ricky Rubio sweepstakes (a slow tear is currently traveling down my face), and the Vikings are mired in yet another Favre controversy. The Minnesota sport's scene is making me depressed.

But there is some amount of brightness on the horizon, and it comes in the form of the Milwaukee Brewers. Every year, once interleague play begins, the Twins go on a tear. We eat our fill of brats and drink our share of Michelob before handing a beat down to Bernie and the rest of the crew. We got started a little bit last night with a collective bitch slap of the Bitch Sox. 20-1! Chicago can suck it. Brent too.

So bring it on Milwaukee. Come on over the St. Croix and get what's coming to you.

-Sota

Please Hold

What up world,

I have to apologize for not posting for a while. I started a new job last week that is causing my schedule to be a little wonky. There is plenty going on in the Minnesota sporting world, including the return of Favre, Bill Simmons attempting to be the Wolves new GM, and general mediocrity from the Twins, but I need to get adjusted to my new routine before fully delving into each of these subjects.

My bad Brent, Mark, and Dad. I will return as soon as possible.

-Sota