Oh, Orioles... Oh!

Twins 5, Orioles 2
Twins 7, Orioles 4

:D!!!!
^ my reaction to the game today.

I like how the Twins have been playing lately. No, I don't like how they scare us so badly with all the getting behind #1-6 to 0, but I like how they've been bouncing back in the later innings: They aren't getting down on themselves.

That's the key for us; not getting down on ourselves and believing that we actually CAN do it. We're a good ballclub. Maybe our record doesn't specifically show that, but, we really are. We have consistent hitters up and down the line-up (DON'T give me "well look at Nick Punto, he's more inconsistent than a rock!!" - I'll bite off your head) and our defense is pretty freakin' good. We have a handful of guys who can hit the ball hard, and they carry us. But the little things count, too, and we like to do the little things well. Sure, maybe bunts aren't working for us at the moment. Sure, maybe Justin Morneau, our power hitter, hadn't homered in 110+ at-bats. (110+ I THINK... I'm too tired to look it up. And I say hadn't because he did today to put us on the board, 4-1) We didn't win quite a few games, but we aren't giving up. Now, I still think it's unlikely we'll get to post-season. I would NOT be complaining if we did, don't get me wrong - I'd love that! But the way our offensive has been off in the last few weeks, I don't know if we'd get there, you know? Besides, my dad explained to me exactly why he believes Luis Castillo was traded awhile back: Terry Ryan knew we were most likely playing for next season. Plus, he was a free agent at the end of the year, and Ryan figured we might as well get something for him: hence the two prospects in the minor leagues.

Either way, the last two wins have been sensational for the Twins. It's really uplifting to see them trying to bounce back from their losses. Johan? Good, as per usual. Although the homers.. scared me. Just a little.

P.S. I'd like to wish Scott and Leann Baker luck in the safe delivery of their second child. :) Scott left for Minnesota today because his wife went into labor early this morning, I believe. He's scheduled to make the start on Sunday, although it is unknown whether he will start or not. Gardy's said if Scott can't make it back in time for the start, they'll call up Kevin Slowey to pitch on Sunday instead. As much as I like Scott, I'm telling you to say it with me: HELLS YES - SLOWEY FOR THE WIN!!!

Sorry. I reeeeeeeeally like Mr. Slowey. And I miss him, like I miss Jeff Cirillo. Oh god. Here come the tears.

No, I'm kidding. But seriously, Sunday will be amazing, regardless of what happens. Let's just hope I don't have to go to church.

Jeff Cirillo, I Miss You

Twins 1, Rangers 0
Mariners 9, Twins 4

I would have to say my days are dwindling now. My fun, summer days as a 14-year-old who cannot get anywhere without her bike are dying down and in my free time (the time between Twins games) I do jack shit.

Wait, I totally just lied. Like, multiple times. The only thing I didn't lie about was the doing 'jack shit' part because that's true. Like right now, what am I doing? Waiting for the Twins game by typing in my blog that has like 3 readers, rearranging Shockers*, and watching the Little League World Series. Which has been delayed by rain for like 40 minutes. I just needed background music.

I miss Jason Bartlett for god sakes.

I don't know if you guys follow Jeff Cirillo or anything, but yesterday in the 9th for the D-Backs (versus the Beermakers/Brewers/Smelly Cheese Wisconsinites) he pitched. Yes, he pitched. The pretty much triple back-up utility third-baseman pitched. AND HE STRUCK OUT ONE, BABY. I'd have to say if I had oodles of money I'd buy a Cirillo jersey, because the number 9 suits me and I like a man who can play different positions (NICKY F-ING PUNTO). I'll just work on buying a Bartlett one first because he holds 3/4 of my heart. The other 1/4 goes to.... drum roll please... eating.

In addition to that probably unknown piece of news for Twins fans, I'll supply you with one that everybody as heard before: Johan Santana struck out 17 batters on Sunday. I'm supremely jealous because my best friend, who is not even a Twins fan, can name no more than 2 people on the team and does not know what DH/DL means, was there. She was in the nosebleed seats but still. You were in the presence of a God who set a club record. Seriously, I don't think she even noticed that he struck out more than two people. Does she even know what a K is?

Scott Baker better pitch well tonight. My sister lied to me by saying she'd watch the game, but I should have known better. She's 9. She can't sit still for a movie, let alone a baseball game. Like my friend who went to the Sunday game? We watched not even 2 innings after we got back from Hairspray on Friday and she goes, "How can you watch this whole game..?" And I'm like W-T-F.

Anyways, my Shockers* are almost gone. I crave chocolate.

In case, you know, you didn't know what Shockers were. I forgot they existed until I saw them in my candy cupboard, but, shh.

Consecutive Wins?!

Twins 11, Mariners 3
Twins 6, Mariners 1

As much as I enjoy all of this winning (all = two games?) I'm really feeling depressed lately. Probably because of a few things.

1. Today during the game Jason Bartlett got hurt with a strained left hamstring beating out the throw to first. I believe Gardy said he'd be a possibility for the DL. Which is just grand, really, for two reasons: one, he is my boyfriend and I love him to death, and two, because he's been very consistent and has swung a nice bat lately.
2. Ramon Ortiz was traded. Not that I like Ortiz all that much - I'm sure he's nice but his pitching has been shaky - but.. I really miss everybody. People like Jeff Cirillo, Luis Castillo, Kevin Slowey; a bunch of other people. Jeff Cirillo the most; Luis Castillo also. I like Alexi Casilla but.. you can't replace Castillo. I know they didn't do much for us - Luis did, but Cirillo wasn't extremely helpful or anything, but they defined the ball club for me. Mainly because I just started getting into the real Twins thing this year, watching the games religiously as of the start of the season, and they were there, like family. And.. they're just.. gone. All we hear is a report and we don't see them again. I can't tell you how many times when I was gone for a week to Duluth, at my grandma's, that I flipped between the Mets game and the Twins game a day after Castillo was traded - just to see him. I miss them all.. too much.
3. Morneau, Cuddy, and Hunter (well not so much Torii, he seems to be getting it back, but shh) aren't doing all too hot. I thought we were supposed to rely on them solely because the rest of the lineup wasn't good? Yeah.
4. The Twins are pulling at my heartstrings with all this inconsistency. 4 1/2 games back, 3 games back, 7 games back, 8...

That's all I have to say. I lost my train of thought.

Check Please

Angels 4, Twins 3
Angels 6, Twins 2

Christ, I am so tired of watching these games because they're all the same. So, to pass the time while I watch us lose (yet again!), I'm going to make a checklist that signifies how awesome we, the Minnesota Twins, are.

10 WAYS TO PISS OFF RON GARDENHIRE/TWINS FANS/TWINS PLAYERS
Dead Offense [√]
Decent Starting Pitching Gone Wasted [√]
Most Shut-Outs in MLB [√]
Taking Leads That Last ½ an Inning [√]
Scoring 3 Runs or Less More Consistently Than Not [√]
Playing .500 Baseball [√]
Countlessly Injuring People You Bring Up From The Minors [√]
Regularly Injuring People Who Are Supposed To Be Your Starters [√]
Trying to Restrain From Saying "We Just Suck" During Press Conferences [√]
Your Ace Talkin' Crap About Your Management [√]

Notice we succeed in all of those.
Okay, so, as you can tell, I'm really bored. I'm pretty sure you all knew all of the above anyways, so I'm unaware why I made that list.

Oh, and major high-fives (from you)/kisses (from me) for Jason Bartlett, who has scored the only (as of the moment.. though I'm assuming through the rest of the game) 2 runs in the game today. Way to be Hottttttt, Jason. Even though you could suck and I'd still love you.

P.S. I still believe in Nick Punto
(and yes, I am being serious: Nicky P. is the shit, okay.)

Accio Offense!

Angels 10, Twins 1

The opposing clubhouse in Anaheim was silent, aside from one lowly radio, turned on to quietly hum slow, sad, country tunes. The radio was positioned directly in Scott Baker's locker, and although the locker room was deserted, the sound of running water from the showers gushed into the empty room.

The shower stopped and Scott, fully adorned in gym shorts and a navy shirt, emerged from around the corner, plopping into a red comfy chair in the corner of the room. He turned to face the empty locker room, his face contorted, thinking of what just to say to his non-existent teammates.

"Guys," his blue eyes, staring intently at the mass of nothing in front of him, were large and watering. "I'm sure I speak on behalf of the whole pitching staff when I say that I am extremely disappointed in the lack of offense that's been given to me." There was a pause. Scott stood up, hands in pockets, as he sighed, spinning on his heel to look over the empty place.

"What am I doing? There's nobody here. Those words have already been said. Nobody's going to listen to me.. I'm not Johan Santana. Even if I was Johan, I wouldn't be listened to." Scott looked up at the clock above him. The game had ended around 10:30. It was now 11:25.

There was a knock on the door where one entered the locker room. Scott froze, turning to look at the door, his eyes wide. "Uh.. Scottie? Scottie, you in there?" Mike Redmond opened the door, peeking his head around the corner. Scott sighed with apparent relief, giving a slight smile. "Hey, Red." He wiped a quick hand across his eyes, which he supposed were slightly red from the tearing that had occurred after the game.

"Scottie, we've been looking EVERYWHERE for you!" Redmond's voice was exasperated, as though he were out of breath. Scott looked at him, a look of confusion tugging at his face. "What do you mean?"

Before Redmond could answer, there was a loud crack, and Nick Punto appeared on the floor before them, his face planted against the tile. Scott's face shifted into alarm. "Nicky! Are you okay?! Where'd you COME from?"

Nick picked himself up, brushing himself off, pointing a finger at the red locker behind him. The door was swinging loosely on its hinges. Baker looked even more alarmed. "Were you.. were you.. spying on me?"

"No!" Nick's disapproval rose high into the air as the two looked at him with worried faces. "I.. I just.. popped up here! Last I remember I was talking to Cuddy, there was a jet of yellow light, and.. boom! I'm here!"

Redmond looked at him, his head cocked. "You mean.. you like.. just, appeared here?" He looked at the two of them. "Do you mean in like Harry Potter? It's called apparating! Maybe Nicky APPARATED!"

Scott stared at him. "Harry Potter's .. not real. How could Nicky apparate if it's not even real?" Redmond gave him a weird look, shrugging. "Well, I mean, Harry Potter is more believable than Nicky just appearing here out of nowhere."

Nick scratched his head. "I don't know, guys, but whatever happened, it had to do with Cuddy." He looked around at the locker room, as if seeing it for the first time. "We should go find him."

"No, no!" Another voice joined the trio's, and they all turned to see Carmen Cali running into the locker room, looking positively mortified.

"What is it?" Scott looked at Redmond and Nicky before his eyes peeled back to the relief pitcher standing in front of them, looking sullen-faced. "What's up, Cali?"

"Haven't you read Harry Potter before?" Carmen's eyes were wide. "What if Cuddy's Voldemort?" He looked bewildered.

Nicky started laughing rather impulsively, while Redmond stared at Carmen, nodding wildly. "Yeah, yeah! What if he tries to kill us? Oh man, we gotta go warn Gardy!" And with that, the four of them run down the halls to an empty room that Gardy was using as his office while on the road trip.

Upon entering, there was nobody there. All four's faces fell, though Scott looked skeptical. "Guys, you don't actually believe that Michael Cuddyer, our right fielder, is Voldemort?" He stared at them all, ready to shake a finger. "He hasn't killed anybody yet. Wouldn't he 'Adava Kedrava' somebody's ass?"

"He Adava Kedrava'd Nicky's offense." Redmond looked at Scott, as Nick stared at Redmond, pouting.

"Yeah, well.. he Sectumsempra'd your HEAD in the form of Jim Thome!" Nicky pointed at Red's head and the stitches that lingered there. Red swatted his hand away, opening his mouth to protest, but Baker spoke sooner.

"Guys, why would he Splinch himself? He hurt his thumb, remember? He was on the DL for 15 days. If he was Voldy, couldn't he just.. rewire himself and make his thumb feel good again?"

Before anybody could object to Scott's point, the door's frame (the door had been left open) creaked, and Michael Cuddyer stepped in with a genuine grin on his face. "Hey guys, what's going on? Team meeting?"

Nicky screamed, jumping behind Redmond. "PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!" Redmond pushed him away, looking at Cuddyer. "We're all useless without our wands! Guys, RUN!"

Scampering feet sounded on the floor as Cali, Redmond, and Nicky all ran like mice in the room to try to escape. Cuddy closed the door, staring at them as though they were idiots. "Scottie, what's going on?"

"I.. err.. they think you're Lord Voldemort. Since you made Nicky apparate and all." Scott blinked, looking at Cuddyer with a look of curiosity on his face. Michael looked at him, his face twisting into laughter. "What? You're kidding, right?"

".. No." Scott's voice quivered.

"Guys.. GUYS!" Michael waved his hands, looking at the three that had sought shelter in a closet in the empty room. "Guys, I'm not Lord Voldemort, I didn't try to kill Harry Potter seven times! I'm your right fielder and I am a NORMAL HUMAN BEING!" (At this, Baker sighed, rolling his eyes.)

Nicky stopped, looking out at Cuddy. "Well.. well.. why'd I land in a gym locker, then? There was a flash of light and I fell out of Neshek's smelly locker in the locker room!"

Cuddy liked as though he were ready for the question. "That wasn't me, Nicky! I don't know what happened, but I was just talking to you, and you were gone! I heard this insane cackling and left, looking for you. We should talk to Gardy, maybe he knows what's up." And with these words of wisdom, the five left to find Ron Gardenhire, who was looking a mighty lot like Dumbledore in the situation.

They traveled down the hallways, calling for Gardy, until they stumbled upon a broom closet where muffled whispers were coming out. It was the sound of a raspy voice and Gardy's own, and at the comforting noise of Gardy's barking tone, Nicky reached for the doorknob.

"NO!" Cuddyer slapped his hand away, shaking his head. "We need to listen, we can't open. Who's he talking to?"

"I dunno," Scott shrugged, and beside him, Carmen Cali pointed a stick to the air and whispered in a nearly inaudible voice, "Accio shotglass!"

Scott turned around to stare at him. "Where on EARTH did you get that stick? And were you actually thinking you would get a shotglass back from attempting to use a spell that doesn't exist?!"

Cali looked smug, putting the stick down. Cuddyer grabbed the stick, feeling the wood. "This feels like oak. With.. a string of bean in the center."

Redmond and Nicky were eating this all up; Scott, however, was not.

"Are you SERIOUS?" His voice was a testy, high-pitched whisper. Michael looked back at him, eyes wide. "Shhh!" He turned back to Nicky, Redmond, and Cali, looking as though he were a super sleuth. "I think he might have put the Muffliato charm on the door, because I can't make out what he's saying. If only I had some Extendable Ears!"

At the moment he said that, the door swung open, the five jumping back. Gardy was cowering behind his desk, and a long, cloaked figure revealed himself to the five. "VOLDEMORT!" Cali, Red, Nicky, and Cuddyer yelled as Scott stared, his mouth gaping open.

"Aha, I see you have all found liberty in my disguise! Very well, for this incredible piece of detective work, you shall all live to see your beloved manager perish, as he is not doing my bidding. You see, I offered him a deal! I said, 'Gardenhire, I will get you out of this situation; if you let your team lose the remaining games of the season, I will give him all of the money in the world to reward him with the Superhero that is Torii Hunter, and I will renew the contracts of Justin Morneau and Joe Nathan, I will restore your powers, Nick Punto! I will restore the powers of everybody, making them unable to get hurt! I will lessen the errors that Jason Bartlett makes, leaving all the pitchers to pitch gems! I will make it so your team is indestructible, if only you lose the remaining games of the season! I offered the same to the Tigers and the Indians, but look how they have responded: the same as you! You are all trying, thinking that you will end the slumps; but no! NOBODY CAN STOP LORD VOLDEMORT!" An insane roar of rage was given to this, as Voldemort gave them all a beady eye, looking extremely pale and angered.

Michael Cuddyer stood in front of all of them, puffing his chest out. "There is absolutely no way I'm going to allow this! You're working for the White Sox, aren't you?! YOU WANT THEM TO WIN THE DIVISION TITLE! We aren't going to let this happen! How much is A.J. Pierzynski paying you, anyways?"

Voldemort looked as though he had been slapped in the face. "I do not need money, foolish Muggles! How dare you propose this!" A horrible screeching followed before he started again. "I only wish White Sox nation to win it all! How hard is it to root for the home team? I was banished to Chicago, and I was lured in by this man you call "A.J. Pierzynski" - he offered me companionship when all of my followers, they are gone! How could I not use my powers on Muggles such as you? HOW COULD I NOT! I was being offered friendship, and this is something I have not been asked of for a long time... how dare you question it..."

Everything was getting blurry..


"Scott! Scott, wake up!" Scott's eyes snapped open to see Nick Punto and Mike Redmond staring down at him, looking extremely worried. "Scottie, are you okay?"

Baker looked up at them, feeling woozy. "What... what happened?" He felt as though he'd hit his head on something.

"You were dreaming, apparently," Nick's voice was low and quiet. "You were screaming, 'No! Not Cuddy! No, please, not Nicky, not Redmond, no! Cali... no! Please!' It was like you were watching us be tortured or something."

Scott sat up, eyes wide. "You mean that wasn't real?"

"What wasn't real?" Cali, from behind Nick and Red, looked rather confused.

"You- Gardy! Gardy was being forced into making us lose by Lo-"

Redmond started laughing, shaking his head. "Gardy was being forced to make us lose? Come on Scott, that grand slam must've really screwed you up a bit. Let's get you back to the hotel."

The four of them (Cuddyer, Redmond, Cali, and Punto) left, cleaning the locker room slightly before leaving Scott alone. He felt light-headed. So that was just a dream? He began walking after them, ready to sleep his worries away. But before he would sleep..

"Hey guys, have you ever read Harry Potter?"

--

Yep, that's my pathetic attempt at twisting Harry Potter and Twins baseball together. Hateful comments might ensue.