Bummed Darin Mastroianni got sent to minor league camp. My unpleasant mood has nothing to do with strategy or intellect. I am bummed because my friends who got autographs from him said he was a great guy. Mostly, I am bummed because I liked to pretend he was secretly a stubbly private investigator in a lesser known horror film directed by Dario Argento.
Baseball, appreciated from the keen and reasoned eye of a scientific scholar, moves like a beautiful piece of clockwork machinery.
"Then the boy saw alló Since he was old enough to know, big boy
Doing a manís work, though a child at heartó" - Robert Frost
Got the Sano news via phone notification as I got out of bed, and the grayness hung in the air like it saw this one coming.
Flesh fails us all, but it is not supposed to crap out on a young physical wonder standing in the wings, moments away from his MLB debut. In January, Sano drew long lines of fans at Twinsfest. Now he begins
Twinsfest ended today, and the weather report strongly suggests the rest of the world might end tomorrow. The temperature is already dropping to numbers that make you whistle, whether you want to or not. A path to the street from my house, clear in the early afternoon, is now a ragged trickle of cement overwhelmed by snowy cliffs.
The Twins annual call to arms was cozy, busy, but still ordered. Fans brushed past each other, and the occasional
Just bought my 2014 Twins Daily Offseason Handbook, and I started thinking my baseball thriller The Hoosecows, written with Roy C. Booth, is a prospect to watch in its own right.
If you're a Twins fan, the joy of watching prospects mature is going to be a big part of your 2014 experience. Sano, Buxton, Meyer . . . What could be more exciting than supporting a future superstar before they slip into a big league uniform?
Now, I'd like to offer you a chance to dial into another
Headaches, Old and New (Twins 5 Indians 6 - Game 159)
A busy day ended with a headache and an early trip to bed, like I was a starting pitcher getting the hook.
It occurred to me, annoyed by pain as I was, that I might be lucking out. After all, I had a reason not to pay attention to baseball.
Grinding out the last few months of recaps has reminded me baseball really only has a few stories. The dominating conquerors. The wily Cinderellas. The damned losers.