Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Mid-season Anniversaries

What up world,

My apologies for taking so much time between blog posts. I've been moving apartments, dealing with internet issues, and entertaining friends over the last week, causing me to be negligent in my writing duties. In addition, I've been doing my best to ignore the massive amounts of disappointment that the Twins are heaving upon us on a nightly basis. I was all set and ready to blog on Monday evening, mentally preparing for what I was going to write after a massive victory over the Oakland A's, and then the Twins promptly gave into their sucking tendencies. When you give up 7 runs in the 7th inning, it doesn't often lead to a victory, guys. Let's avoid these situations going forward...

I've now been offering these pieces of advice to the various Minnesota sporting teams for just over a year now. The All-Star game a few weeks ago marked the one year anniversary of Sota Love, giving me a perfect excuse to review some of the events over the past 12 months. I will attempt to break these events into a couple of different categories and different blog posts, beginning with Sota Love's first love; the Minnesota Twins.

Twins:

Throughout the last year, we've delved into the inner workings of the Twins organization, getting to know some of the characters that comprise the team that we've grown to love. Here is a brief list:

Jo Jo Ma: All-Star catcher, composer of beautiful symphonies, and all-around lady killer. Hearts and kisses Jo Jo.



J-Mo/The Mountee/Paul Bunyan Jr: All-Star first baseman, former league MVP, and future prime minister of Canada. J-Mo, although you may not be the greatest writer the world has ever known, you certainly can destroy a baseball. Keep doing that.



Scottie Baker: 12 year old Scottie, along with his favorite teddy bear "Cuddles", has not had the season that we expected of him, however, there is still time. I've been rough of Scottie at times; banning his videogames and not letting him stay up past his bedtime, but it has been out of pure love and affection. I know that he can be a top of the rotation starter, but he has to start believing in himself and not breaking down in tears when he doesn't do well, or when I yell at him.



The Saint: With the return of Saint Francisco at the mid-point last season, the Twins had new life. I was convinced that the Saint would return for 2009, raining sulfur and devastating sliders upon all opposing batters. Throughout the first half, the Saint has looked more loving and forgiving of AL Central teams than the vengeful spirit that we knew a few years ago. I'm hoping that he will deliver the anger of God in the second half, giving the good citizens of Minnesota renewed hope.



Ku-Bear/The Grizzley/More Ku-Bell: Jason Kubell has quietly put together an extremely effective first half of the season. Now that Gardy has allowed Ku-Bear to regularly roam free in the outfield, devouring fastballs and smallish, opposing players, he is beginning to turn into the fearsome beast that we knew he could be.



Lil Nicky Punto: It's hard for me to criticize LNP. He's all hustle, and I can't help but laugh like a baby playing peek-a-boo when he slides into first base. Still, he's been awful this season. Even with his defensive prowess in the infield, he should be spending more time fighting criminals in the Twin Cities at night, and riding the bench during the day. I heart you LNP, but if you don't start contributing on offense, I might have to break off this relationship.



Keiunta Denard Span: Keiunta is a warrior. A slap hitting, fast, defensive genius warrior. I never expected Span to evolve into this type of player, but after a full season in the bigs, I have every bit of confidence in the man, the myth, the soon-to-be legend.



Go Go Gomez, The Delmonic, and Alexi Casilla: I heart all three of you, but you are starting to play with my emotions. I was convinced that you would all continue to get better this season, but you seem to have gotten far worse. Here are a few, brief personal notes to each of you:

Lexi: After your game winning hit over the White Sox late in the season in 2008, I wanted to commission a statue of you outside of the new ballpark. But, in 2009, you can't seem to make those hits, or defensive plays, or anything else productive. I want to mold that statue Alexi, but you have to deserve it first.

Go Go: When I heard that you eat massive amounts of candy, and accidentally hit your face against doorways, and softly kiss and speak sweet nothings to your bats, I wanted to hang out with you more than anything. I wanted you to get on-base and score runs, but you seem to be more concerned with hitting homeruns and striking out. No more of that Go Go



The Delmonic: I've already discussed you in a previous post, and I don't feel like I need to heap any more criticism upon your massive noggin. Let me just quickly say this. Stop sucking. That's all. Nothing more than that. Stop sucking!!!!

Reddog: You are awesome, and old, and often naked. I think that you should accelerate your naked locker room time, your naked batting practice routine, and your general naked harrassment of Brendan Harris in order to spur on the rest of the team. My suggestion: All naked, all the time. Keep partying you dirty bastard.



With the painful end to last season, and the general disappointment with the current season, one would think that my love for the team would be wavering. That couldn't be further from the truth. I can't wait for the team to start their second half run and propel themselves to the top of the Central. I'm fully convinced that something is going to click at some point, causing me to do a little dance every time I hear any news of it. Our 10 game winning streak is going to directly coincide with the signing of Ricky Rubio and Brett Favre, and my head may explode from pure joy.

More on the other franchises of Sota Love in the next blog posting. Stay tuned.

-Sota

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Carsten Charles

What up world,

I've been consciously trying to avoid writing about the Twins for the past couple of weeks. I've been hoping that the team would grow desperate for further Sota blog posts, and amid their despair, would start playing better. It has worked somewhat, in that the Twins have finally broken the curse of mediocrity, and are finally a couple of games above .500. They have had good series against the Tigers and Royals recently, but with the Yankees coming into town this week, there is a growing sense of dread that we are headed back into suckville.

The Yankees, with their pinstripes and Jeters and use of $100 dollar bills as towels seem to intimidate the pants off of the Twins year after year. Those evil bastards are undefeated against us so far this season and have won 16 of the last 22 meetings. Can't they let us have some hope of success? It's not enough for them to steal 12 year old's favorite Twins (Chucky Knoblach) or for them to crush our playoff dreams (2003). They must repeatedly beat us into the ground with every chance they get, causing us to question whether we can really compete in the first division of baseball with our small market tendencies.

With these thoughts in mind, I was dreading the Yankees arrival into Hubert H Humphrey. The feeling of despair only grew when I noticed that their starting pitcher with none other than Fat Mcgee himself. Our old nemesis, Carsten Charles Sabathia.



For years, the Pregnant Man had been tormenting our beloved collection of left-handed batters as an Indian. Even with our repeated attempts to make him bend down to pick up bunted balls, we never seemed to do well against CC. He tried to eat Lil Nicky on several occasions, and generally shut us down.



With his trade to Milwaukee last season, we finally felt some reprieve from CC's evil ways. However, everyone knew that it was only a matter of time before he ended up in New York. Talents of his caliber are always sucked into the dark side of the Bronx, eventually. Brian Cashman and the Steinbrenners build an apartment made entirely of cash for these type of players. Pure gold is injected directly into their blood stream (along with other items. What's up ARod), causing them to forever crave more and more money.

Carsten Charles was no exception. He is currently the highest paid pitcher in the game, and refuses to pitch unless his mound is made of cash and Twins fan's broken dreams. Last night he completed dominated our lineup, intimidated Scottie Baker enough to pitch his worst game of the year, and tried to consume LNP during the seventh inning stretch. We lost 10-2 and fell back to third place in the Central.


CC feeling faint. Must bring up blood sugar...

The only relief I can get from the CC related pain is to repeatedly make fun of him. Although I've attempted to throw out some barbs in this entry, no one could rip apart Fats McGee quite like Bat-Girl. Below is an entry from a couple of seasons ago, discussing the top ten reasons that CC had hit Justin Morneau with a pitch:

10) Sick of own mother shouting, "BOOTY CALL" every time she sees Morneau.

9) Avenging history of Canadian aggression against home nation of Fatassia.

8) Aim off due to finger blister from spending two hours voting for Jordin Sparks after American Idol previous night.

7) Morneau didn't invite him to tenth bday party; had to stay home and "play with his Han Solo."

6) Temporarily taken over by spirit of crazed, obese lefty.

5) Brad Radke's mom called him a pussy.

4) Up all night: Sex in the City Marathon on TBS!

3) Ass rash.

2) Tried to hit fan behind Morneau that was eating a hamburger that he felt was his to consume.

1) He's a dick.

-Sota