Seattle!!!!!

What up world,

How can our bats be so assy? I have stayed up late two nights in a row, only to watch two games that we have given away late. Seattle!!! Why?? Why couldn't we follow the White Sox lead and destroy this team? Babies in the Twin Cities are furious with the performance of not only the bullpen, but also the Twins lineup. With Lexi back, and cutting ties with the wolfman, our offense was supposed to pick up a little right? Explain yourselves.


The only positive note that I can find in this series debacle is that Everyday Eddie is back in the mix. Hopefully we will have a little more depth in our bullpen and he will be more of this bellowing beast man,

then this grimmacing beast man for us.

Unfortunately the Twins gave up a pitching prospect for Eddie that was really intriguing to me. His name is Mark Hamburger, is from Minnesota, and was given a contract after having an open tryout with the team. He was doing pretty well in the minors, and may have a chance at the majors eventually. Here is the team photo.

Even more dissapointed than I that the team traded away the Hamburger is Randy Ruiz. Randy loves hamburgers as is evident in his 250 pound frame. When food is brought into the clubhouse, Randy is the first to find any and all hamburgers that are available. Many of his teammates have noticed this hamburger love and have nicknamed him The Hamburglar.

Randy had heard legend of this pitcher made of hamburgers in the minors. He was having dreams of this hamburger pitcher. Playing with him, celebrating victories, and eventually eating him as part of the postseason celebration.

When Randy heard of the news that the pitcher had been traded, he was devastated. Over the course of the day, this devastation turned to anger, which culminated in a booming homerun last night. I'm hoping that the rest of the team will see what the Hamburglar is like when he is angry and continue to steal his hamburgers. Otherwise, we can try and tip Officer Big Mac as to where the Hamburglar hangs out. I don't think that there would be anything that would anger him more.

Seriously boys, get rid of the ass-bats and salvage something out of this series.

-Sota

Ginger Attack

What up world,

I was out of the loop for most of the weekend, but managed to follow the games through various cellular devices. I was fairly excited after Thursday and Friday's games. The Twins were back in first, winning against a good team. The White Sux were not playing particularly well against another good team. I decided to have a few scotchs to celebrate on Friday night, which lead to a bit of a hangover on Saturday for myself and for the Twins. After Saturday night's game, I was still alright. I was in the midst of a wedding reception, I had drunk off my hangover, and the Twins were still in first with the Chicago loss. Waking up on Sunday I had visions of watching the Twins winning the four game series while I contemplated throwing up for most of the afternoon.

Things were going exactly according to plan. The Twins were up for most of the game, the Sox were losing, and my stomach was rejecting almost everything that I ate. All of a sudden, things went completely craptastic with another bullpen meltdown, Vlad impaling, and AJ being his utmost bitchfull. At the end of the day, here were the standings.

White Sox: 74-55
Twins: 74-56
Games Back: 1/2
Number of times I threw up: 2

This got me to thinking, why can't the Twins get into first and just stay there? Can they ever build a bigger lead than a 1/2 game on the White Sox? Why do the Twins keep teasing us with spectacular play one day and descend into complete assiness the next? I dug in and did some research to answer some of these questions. Since August 12th, the Twins have never been more than a game ahead or behind the White Sox. They have played with our emotions, testing the very fiber of our soul. What happened on August 12th that would cause the Twins to do this? What could it be?

Oh my God. There is a ginger that has embedded itself into the Twin's organization. I thought that we had rid the Twins of this creature years ago. On August 12th, the Twins signed this ginger to a minor league contract, in hope that he will be able to provide some hitting against left-handed pitchers. This couldn't be farther from the truth. For those that are unaware of the danger that gingers present, here is a brief presentation by a well respected gingerologist.

Gingers require souls to compensate them for the lack of their own. Obviously this ginger (who we will refer to as Bobby Kielty) has begun to work on the souls of the Twins bullpen. He knows that there is nothing worse than losing in the late innings of a game. If he can successfully steal the souls of the bullpen, he knows that the souls of the Twin's batting order and pitching lineup will soon follow.

He is setting up the end of the season perfectly. I can already envision the White Sox coming to town for the final series of the year. All the Twins will have to do is win the series and they will advance to the postseason. We will have brought Kielty up from the minors to pinch hit against Buehrle or Danks or even Ramirez. Bases will be loaded and the ginger approaches the plate. After several fouls, he will hit into a double play and the end the Twins' chances to advance, thus stealing the souls of the entire organization as well as all of its fans.

He will be rich in souls, causing even more freckles and a further reddening of his hair. I'm not sure that the Twins will be able to recover from this. Please Bill Smith, don't let this happen. Follow the Cubs lead in the expulsion of redheads. They cut Matt "Captain Ginger" Murton early in the season, and look what has happened since then. The Cubs are the best team in the National League and are completely gingervitus free.

As a warning the following images may not be suitable for young children. Gingers have been known to haunt dreams.


-Sota

The Republicans are Coming!!!

What up world,

Fear has struck the Twin Cities as reports of khaki-wearing middle-aged men, elderly curmudgeons with fists full of money, and jewelry laden housewives are descending upon the state. Fearing for their lives, the Twins are headed on the road for a 14 game stint. We need these games boys. Get your road game together.

I have to head out of town for a roomie wedding this weekend, so the posts are going to be on hold until Monday.

Go Twins

-Sota

Photo Hunt

What up world,

Minnesota Twins pitcher Kevin Slowey has one of the most appropriate surnames in baseball. He doesn't necessarily throw the baseball fast, although his fastball does have considerably more speed than my 60 mph lob-ball. He picks locations, nibbles corners and such. He has said that while he was moving up through the Twins organization that he admired the way that former Twin Brad "Hunk of Burning Man-Love" Radke threw the ball. Many writers have said that watching Slowey throw is very similar to watching Bradke a couple of years ago.

Slowey sat down 12 Athletics last night, so I thought that in his honor, we would play a little Photo/Video Hunt with our man. For those of you that have not played Photohunt, let me explain the rules. Typically, one would be at a bar, heavily inebriated, while playing the game. Two photos are shown side-by-side, with five differences between the pictures. You have to pick out the differences to advance to the next picture.

Due to some technological constraints, we won't be able to play the game in the same way here. But, we will do what we can. The first photos are below. Can you spot the differences?

If you said that the person on the left was Kevin Slowey, and Bradke was on the right, you are correct. Congratulations. Also, if you said that there is a black border around the photo on the right, you get bonus points.

Here's the next round.

This one is a little tougher. If you said that the guy on the left is Sean Gallagher, pitcher for the Oakland Athletics (he was traded from the Cubs this season), and that the guy on the right is Gallagher, famous comedian, then you are correct. Gallagher, the pitcher, was torched by the Twins last night for 10 runs. Gallagher, the comedian, probably spent last night crying while eating broken pieces of smashed watermelon. Bonus points for noticing that Sean's goatee was flipped upside down and put on Gallagher's upper lip.

For the next round, we are going to change things up a bit. This is a video hunt, with three different videos. Can you spot the differences between the three?



If you said that the first video was an intimidating ground hog, that the second was a cat that was intimidating, and that the third was a pitcher that intimidated the Athletics last night, then you are correct. Bonus points for not criticizing my video editing capabilities.

Here's the fourth round. This is the trickiest of all of them, because we are comparing a picture to a video. See if you can figure this one out.



If you said that the picture is of the Oakland Athletics prior to last nights game, and that the video was the Oakland Athletics as they were facing an intimidating Kevin Slowey last night, then you are correct. Bonus points for being a little frightened by the lemur in the video. It is the size of a house cat, but man, it gives me chills every time I see it. Anyway, that was a tough round of Photohunt, and you passed with flying colors. Very impressive.

The Twins play Oakland this afternoon. Chicago is playing Seattle this afternoon as well. Saint Francisco is pitching, so let's all pray and hope for the best. Let's get back to being in first Twins.

-Sota

Purple Jesus

What up world,

I'm watching the Twins play on-line right now, and too disgusted with the assiness of the bats to make any comment. 10 hits and 2 runs? Gross. The Sux are going boom all over the Mariners also, so it looks like our brief ride at top is coming to a close. Do the Sux ever score other than home runs? Ughh.

Instead of discussing these topics, I would like to talk to you about my fantasies. It's time to get real up close and personal. I have this recurring dream involving Jesus, Sharpie markers, an airplane, and monkeys. It's a complicated dream, but the first portion came to fruition on Sunday night. With the number two pick in my fantasy football draft I selected my boy, Purple Jesus. I'm hoping that he will be the savior of my miserable fantasy football team this year and I can finally fulfill my quest of winning the league.


I have been the commissioner of the league for four years and the closest that I've come to winning has been a third place finish. Other years I haven't even made the playoffs, and unless Purple Jesus brings God's wrath upon every team the Vikings face this year (I would suggest fire and brimstone), I may be headed for a very similar finish. I don't feel like the poor showings can be attributed to a lack of trying either. I put a ridiculous amount of time into research each year. A ridiculous amount of time into an activity that is completely based in fantasy.

I'm not saying that fantasy football isn't fun. It makes me far more entertained on Sundays, and it provides ample opportunity to talk trash to your friends. Why would I be interested in the Colts and Steelers game? There is no impact on the Vikings, but I do have Peyton Manning and the Steelers defense, so I'm locked to the television and drooling over every touchdown pass and fumble recovery for three hours. Under normal circumstances, why would I tell my friend that I'm going to throw monkey feces at Tony Romo? Fantasy football provides a perfect format for this type of discussion.

So Purple Jesus, put the healing touch to your quarterback's knee, demand that he throws multiple swing passes to you, request clean hand-offs, and to never, ever look to someone else in the red zone. Tell Childress that it's God's will for you to have 2,000 yards rushing, with something like 60 combined touchdowns. That should do nicely.

The Vikings and my fantasy team are your sheep Purple Jesus. Shepard us to the postseason, and if you feel like releasing locusts on the Packers along the way, that would be welcomed.

-Sota

Champions

What up world,

As I write this, the Twins are giving the game away against Seattle. 6 runs in the 6th? Really? 6 runs? Scottie Baker obviously didn't drink his full glass of milk this morning, and the Twins bullpen makes me want to kill bunnies and small children. I do enjoy late inning comebacks, so I'm hoping that's what the team has in order for this afternoon.

Last night, one of the big three off-season deserters returned to the Dome, with promises of groundballs and mound visits from God. That's right, The Jackal was back. He lasted three and a third, running into an angry grizzly bear, a little superhero, and an awfully mousy shortstop along the way.

In addition, the Saint was throwing God's fury at the heathenish Mariner's lineup. He pitched 7 innings of heavenly work, turned the dugout Gatorade to wine, and helped a crippled man walk again. After the game, the Saint said that he was inspired to pitch so well after watching the JPLMC dodgeball team's championship run on Thursday night.

Yes, you did read that correctly. After four summers of coming close, the Joe Perillo Lethal Mustache Coallition is the champion of summer league dodgeball. An undefeated season, a dominant playoff run, a keg/cup trophy, a life-long dream realized. It feels so much better after the bitter defeat that we suffered last summer, and the post-season party definitely reflected that. The winner each week during the regular season receives $50 in coupons to a bar (Duffy's) that sponsors the league. We accumulated $500 of these Duffy Dollars throughout the season and put them to good use on Thursday night. By the end of the evening we had successfully tagged every member of the team, various bar patrons, our server, our dodgeball, and the cashier at a late-night pizza place with lethal mustaches.

I have to thank JPLMC and Kochasaurus for providing endless amounts of smashing throughout the last couple of years in Chicago. It feels great to be a champion. I plan on having a sit down with the entire Twins roster to explain how good it feels to be in first place. Hopefully then they won't continue to have this see-saw battle with the Sux for the next two months.

As I write this, Captain Busch just hit a walk-off sac fly. Not exactly the walk-off that I was hoping for, but exciting nontheless. Go Twins.

JPLMC fo' life.

-Sota

LNP to the Rescue

What up world,

The Twins did some good work today, taking down the Evil Empire in the series. Unfortunately we couldn't come through in the clutch last night, but I'm willing to forgive them for this transgression. Even though we lost, it wasn't as terrible as the last time that we played the Yankees. I don't even want to think about it again. It gives me the shivers.

I received an email from a reader this week, questioning the use of Lil' Nicky Punto in the current lineup. This reader (Justin Lorang) threw a bunch of statistics at me, and although he is freakishly tall, he did make some valid points. However, what the statistics fail to show is the impact that LNP has on the other members of the Twins team.

One of the Statistician leaders, Justin Lorang.

Those readers that had the joy of experiencing Batgirl when she was still around are fully aware of the exploits of LNP. Headlong dives into first, spectacular defense, and his propensity for ass-batingness only tell half the story. LNP is the Captain America of the Twins (he's not really Captain America. Buscher stole that costume. I'm just using it in the metaphorical sense). He means so much more to the Twins than a low batting average and propensity for hitting into double plays.

Photo produced by Bat-Girl.com

Lil' Nicky Punto was born in San Diego, a planet 1.5 million light years away from Earth, which coincidentally shares the same name as a city in California. The people of planet San Diego are half the size as earthlings. We would put them in the gymnast height category here on Earth. Lil' Nicky Punto was actually named Gigantor on his home planet, and was regarded as a great leader among his peers.

A few years ago, the people of San Diego were threatened by the evil Statisticians. They arrived on San Diego spewing OBP lasers and SLG bombs, killing every tiny member of the planet. Thankfully, LNP evaded the Statisticians and escaped to Earth, arriving in Philadelphia in 2001.

In 2004, there were threats in Philly that the Statisticians had discovered his whereabouts again. He quickly moved onto Minneapolis and found a place with the Twins. Over the years he has discovered and encouraged the super talents of his teammates. When concentrating on his teammates super skills, his ass-batiness seems to emerge more, making him susceptible to discovery by the evil Statisticians. LNP knows however, that the better his super teammates perform, the less attention is paid to the assiness of his bat.

While hanging out in the clubhouse, I overheard LNP giving his superfriends a little pep talk after last nights game.

LNP: "Okay superfriends. Tough loss guys. Flash and Span-man, I liked your hits out there."
Carlos Gomez: "Thanks LNP."
Denard Span: "Yeah, thanks."
LNP: "But, you also struck out twice. When facing the Statisticians, those kind of numbers are not going to help you."
CG: "But I stole a base..."
LNP: "I know, but you're Flash. You should be stealing every base out there."
CG: "Okay."
LNP: "Captain Busch, you had zero hits. Zero, but you did have an RBI. Statisticians love that crap."
Brian Buscher: "Thanks LNP."
LNP: "Green Lexi. I know that your thumb is hurting, but we need you back. My ass-batiness is showing. Put on your power ring and lets get going."
Alexi Casilla: "Gotcha LNP."
LNP: "We're going to keep the Wolfman caged up for now. He's just too angry to release onto the field, even against the Yankees."
Mike Lamb: (Growling sounds)

LNP: "Tomorrow needs to be a win. Justin Lorang, leader of the evil Statisticians, is close to finding me. He has begun to alert others. If we win, he may forget about my presence on the team and turn his focus onto Wii tanks. Let's go out there and get a win!"
All: "Hooray!"

In the midst of the pep talk, Reddog peeked around the corner.

Mike Redmond: "What's all the commotion about?"
LNP: "Just getting my superfriends ready for tomorrow, Reddog."
MR: "Oh, well, I'm having a 'superfriends' party over here. Do you guys want to join?"


Not wanting to interfere (or see) Reddog's party, I decided to exit the clubhouse as quickly as possible. Let us all give a quick thanks to Lil' Nicky Punto and hope that he continues to evade capture from the Evil Statisticians.

-Sota