SB Nation User Blog: Old Twins Cap

Baseball's Unspoken Corruption

Old Twins Cap — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 02:37:17 -0000

Baseball has a big problem. One that threatens the credibility of the game.

No, it's not steroids, nor runaway contracts, nor mal distributed team revenue, though each of these is bad enough.

Baseball's biggest problem right now is tying its post-season schedule directly and unalteringly to T.V. network requirements. In other words, games can only be played (or must be played) when the TV network decides.

This phenomenon has completely changed the post-season vis-a-vis how teams are built and compete during the regular season. And, it demeans, diminishes and degrades baseball as a sport. Furthermore, it is fundamentally unfair to the players who are expected to perform at peak levels as professionals.

Check this out: since winning their respective divisions, being the two best teams in the American League, the Yankees and the Angels have played only 8 games over the last 3 weeks. That's 8 games in 20 days.

Partly because they each swept their division series, the Yankees and the Angels have played just eight games in 20 days since the end of the regular season.

That's not even taking into consideration that, since both the Angels and the Yanks clinched their divisions a week ahead of time, they cruised into the playoffs on autopilot. How are players supposed to maintain their peak performance when they only play once every three days?

Yet, the Twins, who also won their division, albeit in a one-game playoff on the Tuesday after the end of the season, had to race to New York on a "champagne flight" the same night after conquering the Tigers in order to play a Wednesday game in New York.

So, let's get this straight: the Angels and Yankees have been sitting and waiting for the better part of a month for the playoffs, but a team, like the Twins, have to beat hell to New York on the same day they clinch a division because the playoffs can't wait?

Why is post-season baseball like this?

The reason for the elongated schedule is the recent change in the start of the World Series. From 1985 through 2006, the World Series was scheduled to start on a Saturday. Then baseball and the networks concluded that Saturday was a dead night for ratings. They built a few extra days into the schedule, which pushed Game 1 to a Wednesday.

Oh, television ratings?

Here is America's past-time, revered because it is played EVERY SINGLE DAY (almost) throughout the summer, with a long history of characters, franchises and amazing games--all predicated on a team's ability to persevere and adapt as a unit to the daily grind.

And yet, when it comes to the final few series of the year, baseball becomes something else. One game here, then a break, then a game, then a travel day, then a game, then a break, then a travel day.

Don't take my word for what this change is like at the level of a team. Here's the Angels' manager:

“Ridiculous,” Scioscia said. “I don’t know. Can I say it any clearer than that? We should have never had a day off last Wednesday. We should never have three days off after the season. You shouldn’t even have two days off after the season.

“It just takes an advantage away for a deep team, which everybody feels very strongly is an asset. It takes that advantage away and I think that’s something that Major League Baseball hopefully will consider looking at.”

What MLB is looking at is making as much money as they can from TV revenues. Like so many things in our culture, the "marketplace" has become more important than the product itself, because the bottom line is money, not quality of product.

This has happened time and again, and first began when shippers realized that certain apples "looked better" after handling and a couple of weeks in boxes than the heirloom varieties that tasted better. Give them apples that "look" good, but not the ones that are good.

Maybe this would be acceptable if it weren't so diametrically opposed to the reality of regular season baseball. The playoffs are now going to favor the teams with a BIG STARTING PITCHER and a couple of ace relievers. I mean, how many times do we have to watch Captain Cheeseburger throw a game? We are rewarding teams who have the ability to hide behind just a couple of key players. Over and over again all the way to the championship. The time is not far away when a single pitcher wins all FOUR games in a championship series. Mark my words, it will happen.

Mainly though, baseball is just wrong about this. When you give up the every day drama, you lose connection with the fans. This is not like football. All the media hype, reporters filing meaningless stories about this or that. It's baseball. The only real thing to do is to play. And play every day. And may the best TEAM win.

Unfortunately, though, at least during the post-season, MLB has decided that playing baseball regularly is not something they can afford to do.

As a result, game 7 of the World Series is now scheduled for November 5th. November 5th!!! If the weather cooperates. If not, they will play it the following spring. So much for the "Days of October" or "Mr. October."

Truly, this is the very definition of corruption. And someone, somewhere has to stand up and call this ridiculous practice of first setting the TV schedule, then the baseball teams who will meet it, for what it is. Kudos to Mike Scioscia.

Adieu, Metrodome. I Mourn Not.

Old Twins Cap — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 12:45:41 -0000

Ahab had Moby Dick, Achilles the noble prince Hector, and King Lear only madness--so in the broad sweep of tortured literary obsessions, this work is not without precedent.

Joseph Campbell says a man needs to look his enemies hard in the face and announce they are bastards.

Big game tomorrow or not, I am compelled:

I have long hated the Metrodome.

Before it was planned. Before it was built. Before the Masters of the Universe, i.e. owners of the Minneapolis Star and Tribune, conspired to bring baseball downtown, along with its multi-millions in luchre. It was an inside job (sic, very sic), from day one, to cut Bloomington off and bring unassuming out-of-towners to Minneapolis and separate them from cash with the slogan: there will be a baseball game tomorrow FOR SURE.

I still have my yellow SAVE THE MET sweatshirt in my closet, on a hanger, with its intricate reproduction of Metropolitan Stadium ironed onto the very spot where my sobbing chest sank during the last week of the 1981 baseball season.

But, I understand. I get it. Big rollers figuring a route to money through a development scheme is the Ur-text of America. How can I complain?

Because the Metrodome has been, for 28 years, the flat-out worst venue for baseball on either side of the Mississippi, north of the Mason-Dixon line (there is Tampa's stadium after all)--and that includes minor league affiliates, small-town amateur parks and liberal arts college backfields.

If you chump the legions of Minnesota Nice, I say, have some decency: do it with class.

The damn Dome lorded over three decades of my life, its pillowy hide visible from my third floor, keeping me from attending Major League Baseball, or even enjoying it on T.V. (Sorry folks, but Twins home games can be incredibly vapid, sterile and boring affairs.) I know reporters have been doing these toothless retrospectives lately, (a decent one here) ups and downs of baseball in the Dome, including Minnesota's two World Series Championships. They just haven't gotten the nub: the Dome has been a dreary, vapid, hideous backdrop in this community's journey through 28 years of America's greatest sport.

It didn't make a single player look better or seem larger than life -- and teams went away happy to be over with it than elevated by the experience. What's a stage for? Yankee Stadium, Fenway, Wrigley?

It's bad enough kids don't go to parks anymore, choose sides and, tossing gloves back and forth each inning, spend afternoons learning the game inside-out, on grass and in dirt, mixing sweat and fun. But to take baseball indoors, insulate it from all that is good about Earth --because you want to assure people a game will be played FOR SURE on a certain date in April is thinking that has ruined many a native and natural blessing in America.

And only the Twins, with infinite marketing savvy, could turn this epic boondoggle-- a giant white dorkiness lording over a cavernous hole, baseballs going lost or bouncing enough to fundamentally alter a game's carefully calibrated balance--into a credible marketing campaign: Farewell to the Metrodome.

Well, two can dance to that. Here's my list of fondnesses, in no order.

For years, from the West Bank, friends and I imagined what a single well-placed mortar round would do to the pressurized puff-piece loosely called "the roof". This was pre-terrorism, and we politely scaled back our scenarios after a thunderstorm tore teflon and partially deflated the white pouch, causing a riot, and temporarily obliterating identities of player and fan on the field.
I'm still waiting for Dave Kingman's lost flyball to land in left-center after some thunderous ovation, though, supposedly, it's already shaken loose and been retrieved by a maintenance worker. What's the chances that gets to Cooperstown?
In the 1980s, I used to park cars before games at a friend's apartment block. There's been a fast trade in improvisational parking all these years, and for a quick $20 and sometimes free tickets, we flagged down confused motorists and convinced them that the tight spot, with dangerous potholes, next to the dumpster-- and poorly lit-- was an absolute bargain compared to what thieves down the street would knick them for. They have since tore down the flop-houses and paved a proper lot, with automated tickets and a lift arm--small fry example of how American efficiency has cost us good jobs.
In those years I went to games wearing a Mexican string bag under my shirt, down my back, in such a way that two litres of quality, cold beer wouldn't get caught in the turnstyle. The bottles were packed in peanuts, real ones, from the organic bin at the Coop. All this was necessary after a buddy worked temporary at the Dome one night, drawing beers, and covering them with plastic for the next day's game. I can put up with certain shoddy efficiencies, but, bad American beer, flat as rinse water, and five bucks for a thimble-full of soggy peanuts were two things I hated more than Dome itself. Sneaking beer was likely a violation of some sort-- I poured into cups below seat level and shared with friends-- but In the age of terrorism, it's not prudent to test security; anyway, the Dome got decent beer, one of few improvements over its detested reign.
Tim Teufel once hit a three-run inside the park home run, a pop-up just beyond second base, giving the Twins a big win over the White Sox (I think it was the Sox). "Teufel" apparently means something demonic in German, not lost on the opposing team's beat reporter, though the whole reminded me of a long ago Rec game when a grounder I hit went under the second baseman and rolled for a grand slam.
1987, game 7 of the World Series, one of the Dome's best moments. I will never forget it. The crowd was amazing. I'm talking about Liquor Lyle's of course, where people spent the 8th and 9th innings standing on tables, smoking joints, fighting each other over a T.V. view. After the win, crowds moved downtown and the complete demolition of social boundaries and outpouring of good will, as people hugged and high-fived strangers of all stripes, ages and social classes, is still, for my money, the most amazing event I've witnessed in Minnesota. It's worth noting that the epicenter was on Hennepin Avenue, far from the Dome.
1991, game 7 of the World Series. Yes, I'm in the Dome, second deck, third base side, surrounded by people with Southern accents, brazenly mocking Native Americans by chopping aggresively, as if that was all they cared to know about a culture much different than their own. As a proponent of non-violence, this was the last time I missed not having a tomahawk. I did instantly spot Knoblauch's deke of Lonnie Smith at second base, yet another game where a lost Dome ball--in this case on offense-- allowed the Twins a win.

Mostly I've stayed away from the Dome the last decades. Or, taken "outdoor baseball" pilgrimages to other stadiums: MIlwaukee, Detroit, New York, Boston, Chicago. And, I've missed a lot of games--on purpose.

And when I do go to the Dome, I still disdain it, alternating as it does between sensual overstimulation--music and commercials are loud and obnoxious--and aesthetic poverty-- concrete, fake field turf and plastic (from chairs to the "green baggie") being the main tableaus on which the eyes inevitably maroon themselves. And it would be remiss not to bemoan the long, tight rows of seats, requiring each fan to stand every time a kid needs nachos or a turn at the stool. Or the ridiculous, retro and ultimately destructive adulation of ATVs--which pollute the field and all of us in the early innings.

Even today, after 28 years, I marvel at how blithely we accept some of the Dome's inadequacies, like John Gordon saying without a hint of irony: "He plays this one off the baggie." Maybe it's just me, but that cheapens a national past-time, isn't it?

Instead, I've taken to going to the Dome before notable games and mixing in the pre-game crowd, hoping to influence the eventual outcome by adding some intangible personal touch--that butterfly wing flapping half a world away that makes a hurricane. And, it's nice to mingle with Homeland Security, their bomb squads, tough faces and fully automatic rifles. Who knew the Metrodome was so central to our National Pysche? Here I've been rooting for its demise all these years as a net improvement to our civic identity.

So the last game at the Dome was supposed to be on my birthday, and there I was the day before hooting and hollering for the Twins to win, to extend their season, and to prolong my misery another game, another series, another few weeks. How do we end up in lives like this? Hoping for continuation of the very bane that troubles us?

They took a team I love and put them in baseball prison for almost thirty years. From watching Killebrew, Oliva and Carew in the pastoral calm of a Bloomington evening, to being bombarded by bad music and a mall scene on a barren edge of Minneapolis. I've been conditioned to accept this as normal, even somehow charming and lovable.

Well, yuk! I will not go gently into that good night. I, too, loved the two World Series crowns, the reign of Kirby and grace of Torii. But, Whitey Herzog was probably right: Without that shitty original sin of building a Dome, there would be no baseball championships in Minnesota.

But even without these, there would have been great games, afternoon sun and moonlit nights where the ball sails deep and disapears into a torrent of people. Crisp air and humid, rain in the field lights, the crack of bats and thunder. Everyone looking a little nobler backlit by grass and sky, having experiences that make going to a game essential and worthwhile, whatever the outcome.

I don't cherish baseball because it rewards with a ring. I cherish small and unexpected ways it connects me to America's past, our naked land and a sense of shared community. On that score, the Dome has partially succeeded: it brought people together, maybe by circumstance, maybe by design. It totally sucked me in, just the other day: with both bowls full, alive like an unimaginably large circus ride, people's raucous voices chorusing, urging an outcome, it inevitably leads to one thing: the Twins vanquishing a foe. Then a lot of happy faces and generous talk with friends.

I remember the Dome for its odd grip locally on our greatest game: its drear commercial dreck along with fondnesses of winning, with and against all odds, but always on a chintzy floor.

As an old-timer opposed to all this from Day One, I say: Good riddance, my friend. You have been an enemy of mine. I have long waited to see you out of the baseball business. And that day, which has seemed impossibly far away for so many years, is now, at long last, close at hand.

And, when the Twins finally make that 27th out in their last game-- and Thank God it's baseball and we cannot know if or when that will be!!!I--- I will consider that day sacred, and walk away a new man, free after a long but undeserved sentence for a crime, loving baseball, that I freely committed.

MLB TV Complaint Thread

Old Twins Cap — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 14:51:43 -0000

Maybe it's just me, but if I get home late at night, or get up early in the morning, and if I didn't get a chance to listen to the game, or even if I did, I like to watch parts of archived games at MLB.com.

Their subscription is not cheap, though I consider it a good deal. This year, they are launching a new product, with better video quality and more features. And, they are not shy about charging for it.

After checking it out during Spring Training, it seemed like it was worth it.

So, you can imagine the disappointment when the new NEX DEF media player and the video feed are experiencing major bugs. And, then there's the fact that the archived games are unavailble after the game--at least I have been unable to find them. And today, no highlights package. So, I don't get to see Morneau's plunge into the dirt at second.

Seems like we are in the midst of a major FAIL to start the season at MLB.com. I don't do television and I do like to use my own eyes when evaluating what happens in a baseball game.

So, while I'm not freaking (yet), I do wonder what others are experiencing out there in case there are fixes or ways around the MLB debacle. Like, are the archived games somewhere? And, how can we give them encouragement to fix their problems or refund some portion of their fees?

So, who bats lead-off?

Old Twins Cap — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 14:23:35 -0000

The whole four outfielders thing has been about the only show in town in Fort Myers this spring. (The Mauer thing and his underreported back problem has been more about "no show.") And, in theory, the competition has resolved itself with Cuddyer, Gomez and Young earning their respective spots, especially given Denard Span's struggles to not only hit for average, but also just to drive the ball and/or get on base via BB.

Yet, when asked, if you listen to Gardenhire, he says this: "Denard, we ended last year with him as our leadoff guy, and that's where we'd like to start again this year. That worked out well for us and we'd like to give that another shot." So, one would think that Span is going to start in the outfield and bat lead-off.

But then, who sits?

Cuddyer? Nope. Gardenhire pretty much as said that Michael has earned his way back into right field. The quotes are out there in the MSM.

Okay, then maybe Gomez will sit? Um, not so fast. Gardy likes the way Fleet plays defense, and he thinks the team is more aggressive, more spunky with Gomez in the lineup. Plus, let's face it, Gomez has looked good this spring, driving the ball, getting on base and even driving in runs. Plus defense, plus speed, plus pressure on the other team.

So, that leaves Delmon. But, DY has looked very impressive this spring, pulling the ball more, driving home-runs, making contact, getting hits. He is one guy in the middle of the lineup who can really hurt the other team and does not back down. Sure, he swings too much and plays LF like a sailor on shore leave, but his upside potential is huge. Are the Twins really going to sit him so Span can bat lead-off?

All of which brings me to the question of this post. At some point, Denard is going to have to sit, whether it's when he doesn't hit or get on base or when there is a tough lefty pitching. And, then, who bats lead-off? It's not like Gardy has been auditioning someone for this role during ST. Seemingly, they have set it up so that Span is their only patient, OBP, speedy lead-off hitter.

Yet, he will sit. And maybe even become the de facto fourth outfielder. Then what? Who is going to hit leadoff?

Sure, not a big deal in some ways, you only leadoff one inning a game. Yet, lineup construction is very important to overall run production, and besides, there is that "tone" thing, and we all remember what happened to Gomez last year as he didn't produce in that role.

So, I think the Twins have painted themselves into a bit of a corner on the four outfielders issue. Yes, it's a good problem to have. Yes, they will all play. But what they have not done is to really determine how to deal with leadoff on days when Span sits. Which, for all we know, could be, and likely should be, most of the time.

Musings on Spring Training 2009

Old Twins Cap — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 03:17:30 -0000

On February 15th, men report to Florida and Arizona, and the end of something is near--winter, time with the wife, bad basketball teams-- and guys dream about summer.

So, here we are at the end of that raw beginning, and as meaningless as it is, there are opportunities not only for dreams, but insight.

When Delmon Young gets to first and stands next to Jerry White, he looks like Troy Maxson in Fences, that is to say, like a serious 6' 3" black statue to unmovable. He's changed something in his swing, is hungry and lean; I'm glad he's us.
Gomez is getting his legs and upper body together. Still raw, he understands the need for OBP, but lets everyone know that if you come into his strike zone, or near it, there will be violence.
Cuddyer = cannon arm. Don't make him do it.
Punto. The whipping boy of small man's disease for years. This may be his time to show critics that staying positive and playing defense can trump a month of pop-outs. Maybe not though.
Morneau = Stud. Without the cancer.
Joe. We hardly knew ye, or even anything about what was going on this off-season. If this were New York, your life, down to the size of inflammation in your sacroilliac joint, would be splayed across whole newspaper pages, next to chic models wearing spring fashions.
Span. Seeing him flail at bad pitches and let good ones float by, and wondering if he will be a one year wonder, a very sick image comes to mind: a black David Dellucci, without pop.
Liriano. So much power, so little finesse. Can Anderson, or anyone, get his passion to win in line with his native ability? I still will drop everything to watch him pitch.
Has anyone even seen Bobby Ayala pitch? Definition of a veteran. Five innings. No runs. Good to go.
Slowey = Greg Maddux, without the fielding.

Sure, spring training means nothing.

But why, then, care about it at all?

Because getting on the field means showing what you got, if not statistically, at least in terms of your body, your interest, your desire. Another year, what do you bring?

The Twins got a lot this year. Young guys, on the way up, hungry to prove out and get dirty, even on carpet.

Most significantly, the Division is weak.

Chicago is old, struggling to find young position players.

Cleveland is hopelessly dependent on oft injured pitchers carrying them-- Hafner looks like a shell, Garko in right field?

Detroit is going young and mediocre, starters dropping like flies, Rogers, Bonderman, Willis, Robertson. When was the last time a team went anywhere after cutting a $14 million dollar superstar?

Kansas City may have the best bullpen in the American League, but they are KC -- how often will they have a lead?

Ignore stats, especially standings showing the Angels, Yankees and Boston, along with the Twins as having the best Spring records. None of that matters. We float free of sabermetricians describing what happened. Nothing really did.

But, men a year older look slightly different, feature new angles on excellence, work to change themselves into someone they always imagined, and bring these hopes forward into April. Only trained eyes understand how such small things aggregate over months, pan out or blow away, and come September, make a team prime to run the table.

After a lot of nothing this Spring, there are three teams clearly better than the Twins, and none I would rather root for, except maybe LAA, who possess just about everything a fan could dream of in the long season of winter.

Something Awkward This Way Comes

Old Twins Cap — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 15:55:10 -0000

How many times have you given up on the Twins this year?

For me, it started with dropping 2 of 3 to Baltimore at home, followed by that lost weekend in Chicago where it was like every pitcher had their pants pulled down and force-marched from the mound as Chicagoans roared in delight.

That was early June. Luckily I was busy that weekend and wasn't fully devestated.

But, then they go to Boston and New York and cough up leads and swing with open palms like they are in a bitch-slap competition and have stars in their eyes. And, I will never forget Everett's bad throw in the 8th in Kansas City, leading to a loss when they could have had first place.

And, there were the Seattle series. Both of them late on the Coast. I clicked the radio off a couple times, put the wine back in its bottle and swore them off for the rest of the year.

There were the Gomez misplays on Vlad's drives in Anaheim, the Nathan blown saves on that same big trip, Punto's fumbles at short. And, of course, the Pridie thing last week in Toronto. That one still hurts.

And, of course, who can forgive the middle relievers? Ever. Didn't it start in Chicago with Neshek letting Crede go deep on a grand slam in April? Then there were consecutive games in Detroit where they rolled over us late in the game, using Crain and Guerrier like cloth napkins after a big meal. Runs, runs, runs. They even fed the Tigers just last weekend, well after the Motowners had shown themselves to be baseball frauds.

It's been a tough year. I can't really understand how the Twins are 4th in the league in runs scored. Or how the bullpen went from their main strength to their main weakness. Or how the defense, from Buscher and Everett's erratic arms to Casilla's too-quickness has let them down time and again.

Weren't pitching and defense the very Bibles of Gardy's orthodoxy?

Let me say this plain:

How the hell are they still in this thing?

Not only in it, but, looking at the schedule, realistically, they have a damn good shot at winning the division. Especially now that Crede, Quentin and Konerko are DL'd in Chicago.

The Twins are one Jermaine Dye hamstring pull away from being in the playoffs.

Even in 1987 you could at least imagine a scenario for why they might win it--how they were just dangerous enough to get it done. You know, Puckett, Hrbek, Brunansky, Gaetti, Gagne, Viola, Blyleven, Reardon. Guys who could beat you late, in a dark alley, whether with fists or broken bottles. You just didn't want to go back there with that group.

And I still see poor Darrell Evans, wandering just a little too far off third in the 7th inning in Game 3 in Tiger Stadium--no one out and runners on 2nd and 3rd-- as Gaetti takes Laudner's throw and tags him out--Gaetti squeezing it and chicken hopping toward the mound. The Twins were dangerous back then.

But, this year,.... this year has been the most unlikely climb out of failure and defeat that I can remember. They don't look dangerous. No one on their team really scares you. But, they're hanging around. A bunch of young kids that don't know when they've screwed up once too many, or didn't get the job done once too often.

They just don't get it. Baseball is about failure. And they've shown a propensity for being able to ignore that second to no one.

Are they setting us up for the ultimate disappointment? Will my radio, one day soon, land in a heap on the floor after smashing into the wall?

Just what do they think they are doing here?

Quentin Out for Season

Old Twins Cap — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 19:44:30 -0000

I'd rather be lucky than good. Or, at least, I like to say that.

Since the Twins haven't been good lately, they might as well be lucky.

Seems like Carlos Quentin, leading homerun hitter in the American League and a strong candidate for MVP, has just been lost for the season. He is about to undergo wrist surgery and have a pin inserted.

Quetin injured the wrist in Cleveland, was it on Tuesday?

Now, they doctors are saying they will re-evaluate his "situation" in three weeks, and maybe it's just me. But, if you have a screw inserted in your wrist and you are a power hitter, do you really think it would be possible to come back in a month?

No way.

Give me a break.

And the Twins just caught a big one.

Question is: Will they be able to capitalize?

The American League Central may end up as a race to the bottom at this point.

It's on Gardy

Old Twins Cap — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 13:23:57 -0000

I know that the Twins were not supposed to contend this year, and that I should be happy that we are even in the race, gaining experience, the thrill of a pennant chase--all that.

But, at a certain point, you want to win games. We are now entering September and we are at that point. Who knows if we ever get this close again for a decade?

This road trip, 14 games in 15 days, has been billed as the be all and the end all of the Twins season, and to the extent that it is, things are not looking good.

Joe Nathan has blown two saves against teams that are less than solid offensively. Jesse Crain has been battered in the late innings and come back to the hotel with a pair of losses. The offense has come up punchless in three, make it four games, leaving decent pitching performances on the table.

But, last night, WTF? Can anyone explain to me why Harris was in the game, in the 9th inning with a one-run lead? Isn't the manager's job to put his best defenders on the field and maximize the chance of winning?

Harris is not a defensive whiz, to say the least. And, if you watch the losing play carefully you can see that Nathan had the guy at third, made a decent throw, not even all that hard. But, Harris does not move his glove into backhand position, but rather, tries to scoop it down low moving across his body. And, he misses it.

I know. Nathan gets the error. A throw right at Harris's chest and the Twins are likely in 1st place this morning.

But, still, Gardy has got to bring Everett in to play SS and move Punto to third late in games when they are winning. Even if the game goes into extras, he still can pinch hit Buscher for Everett and move Punto back to short.

It's the kind of managerial oversight that you don't often see anymore. And, I wonder if Gardy will acknowledge his mistake on the radio show this morning.

Sure, baseball takes a million turns, and I am the first one to admit that a change like that changes what would have happened on the field. But, could it get any worse than it did? Giving up two runs on a single hit in the bottom of the ninth? And just why did they bring in Everett as a free-agent if they are not going to use him--one of the best shortstops of his generation?

The Twins are finding ways to lose games. And last night's, while there were accessories, has got to be laid at Gardy's feet.

Pecota Founder Becomes a Political Star

Old Twins Cap — Fri, 30 May 2008 19:40:05 -0000

Short diary, but I found this kind of interesting, as I think will some of the numbers-based people on this site.

As you may know, there was a hell of a Democratic primary this year. Trying to figure out the polls and who would win and in what state got to be quite the enterprise on the Internet.

One person, Poblano by web-name, basically distinguished himself on several sites, far and above any other prognosticator, poll or pundit. Actually, he now has a national reputation for being able to call election results. He called, in advance, many primaries with a level of accuracy that had the Web buzzing about who this guy really was and how his methodology, regression analysis, worked.

Well, today the secret is out . He was none other than Nate Silver, from Baseball Prospectus, whom many of you will recognize as the creator of the PECOTA projection analysis.

I don't really follow numbers that carefully, but I find the intersection of politics and baseball, at least in terms of analysis, to be somewhat intriguing.

Also that, in spite of all the money and attention and power in politics, the guy who pegged primary results closest honed his skills trying to understand baseball. That's as American as apple pie.

I kind of like that.

Baseball: Blessing or Curse II

Old Twins Cap — Thu, 29 May 2008 14:43:52 -0000

Last month, after the Twins lost a tough series in Texas, against what was then one of the worst teams in baseball, I posted the following Taoist parable about the difficulty of understanding just what is "good" or "bad" about any given outcome:

A man who lived on northern frontier of China was skilled at interpreting events. One day, for no reason, his horse ran away to the nomads across the border. Everyone tried to console him, but his father said: "What makes you so sure this isn't a blessing?"

Some months later his horse returned, bringing a splendid nomad stallion in tow. Everyone congratulated him, but his father said: "What makes you so sure this isn't a disaster?"

Their household was richer by a fine horse, which the son loved to ride. One day he fell and broke his hip. Everyone tried to console him, but his father said: "What makes you so sure this isn't a blessing?"

A year later the nomads came in force across the border, and every able-bodied man took his bow and went into battle. The Chinese frontiersmen lost nine of every ten who fought. Only because the son was lame did the father and son survive to take care of each other.

Truly, blessing turns to disaster, and disaster to blessing: the changes have no end, nor can the mystery be fathomed.

I bring this up today in regards to Delmon Young and the disastrous play he made in the game Tuesday.

Apparently, in the clubhouse after the game, Twins players walked around in shock, even though they had won the game, feeling bad for Blackburn (who got a no-decision despite pitching well) and Nathan (charged with his first blown save on a harmless looking slicing flyball to left).

Even Gardy started his post-game presser with a halting, dispirited comment to the effect of "Well, we won, but this is basically unacceptable..."

So, fast-forward to Wednesday. Twins down five runs and two outs in the ninth. KC on the verge of breaking a long losing streak. Unfortunately for them, because the game on Tuesday went 12 innings--because of Delmon's ill-advised play--they now do not have access to their closer, Soria, and both lefties, Mahay and Gobble each pitched two innings as well and were unavailable.

So, KC has to go with the best pitchers available, bringing in Peralta as the ninth got out of control, and the Twins come back to tie and eventually win in 10 innings.

The point: like the twists and turns of life itself, at the heart of baseball is a kind of inscrutability. Delmon screws up and seems like he has brought a serious negative aura to the clubhouse, yet as a direct result of the extra three innings of pitching his play caused, the Twins find a way to win the next night, against KC's B-team relievers.

Blessings become curses, curses blessings. The changing circumstances of baseball has no end; nor can its mysteries be fathomed.

But, Delmon, catch the ball anyway next time. Will 'ya? Or, as the Twins "See ball, hit ball" commercial suggests--maybe Delmon really is an enlightened being capable of making these things turn out in the end.