Underdog...and not

The ground is getting hard beneath my feet, baseball season is over for the Twins, and the season is nearly over for the year.

I have to get one last baseball idea into the mix.

I’ve been meaning, ever since the Twins lost so handily to the Yankees (again), to write about it, and how the newspaper was full of it…but not in the same way it was when the Twins lost to the Yankees (or simply lost) in post-season play in years past.

In years past, the Twins have always been the underdog. The Twins had one of the lowest budgets in baseball…and they had to play in the worst stadium in the majors…the awful Metrodome.

This year that changed. The new outdoor stadium, Target Field opened and came with high expectations. Joe Mauer got the largest contract anyone on the team ever got. Jim Thome was added as a power hitter. It was a great season and we won the division, as we have for several years. And then…went down without a fight.

The guys had no spit, no fire. They seemed to have no drive at the end. It was almost as if they gave up before they played. They were, after all, playing the unbeatable Yankees.

Even for all that being true, I was surprised by what I read. And I was surprised by Tom Powers, a regular sports columnist, that he mentioned A. J. Perzinski. A.J. was replaced by Joe Mauer and now plays for the White Sox. A.J. is a character. I always liked him, but he’s such a character that he’s about the only guy who comes to the plate in Minnesota and gets booed. He gets booed because he’s not always nice. We’ve got a thing in Minnesota called “Minnesota nice.” And the Twins organization has had a thing, for a long time, of getting rid of the characters. Oh, we’ve had a few bigger than life guys, but always in that “nice” way.

But the main thing that surprised me, because it was true and I hadn’t really seen it, was that we’re not the underdogs anymore. The team’s not underpaid and under-housed. The fans aren’t holding low expectations.

I’m finally writing about it because when I was watching the Rangers beat the Yankees one of the commentators said, “You can’t hope a pitch; you’ve got to convict a pitch.”

This all spoke to me, the way baseball often does, creating some kind of a metaphor for my life.

Oh, how I identified with the underdog Twins. Them and me. That’s what we were: the underdogs.

Things change. Times change. And the thing about me is that I’m slow. I’m slow to see the changes that actually happen as they happen. Something has to spark me to notice. Maybe this is true for all of us. Maybe it’s the way it happens. You have some inner change take place and then a month or year later, something calls your attention in that direction and you say, “Gosh, I’m not like that anymore. When did that happen?”

Somewhere in the last year, or maybe the last month – I don’t really know – I quit being the underdog. I quit on the inside anyway. My actions haven’t quite caught up yet. I’m still doing the Minnesota nice thing, and I’m still hoping and not playing with conviction. But now that I’ve seen it, I’m ready for my actions to catch up.

Pumped up

Oh hell, who cares about anything else? I’m inspired again this morning! Oh, the long dearth through which I’ve sat so impatiently. I’m already feeling it in the kitchen, as I begin making pancakes, see there isn’t any milk, and then chuckle about why I’d be making pancakes anyway on a day when no one’s around. Next I’m eyeing the paper and start reading it. I don’t have to rush to get my time because, as far as I know, there will not be anyone home ALL DAY. Then I read about the Twin’s latest win that came from a pitcher making his major league debut. I love debut games. Love debut stories of any kind.

Matt Fox left in the sixth inning after giving up a run-scoring single that tied the game. He was upset and he slammed his glove around.

I still don’t know much about the 27 year-old pitcher – his history or any of that, but I was bowled over by what coach Ron Gardenhire said about him:

“A lot of young guys in their first start would probably sit back and go, ‘Wow, I’m glad I’m out of there.’ But he was frustrated because he gave up that run and that tells you a little bit about his character and that tells you a little bit about his heart.”

Man. How cool it would be to have a coach like that. To have your frustration seen as character and heart. That frustration that comes of really, really wanting to do your personal best.

Mia, bless her heart, is the reason no one’s home. Angie and Henry spent the night at her place last night, and she’s babysitting there, keeping Henry for the day. She was over yesterday to pick some things up in preparation for the weekend stay, and told me she’d been crabby. I said, “Me too.” I said, “I think you get crabby when things aren’t right in your life and you want to set them right.” She didn’t seem too excited about that observation; thinks her life is going along pretty well at the moment. Maybe it’s just me.

But I let Coach Gardenhire pump me up and I’m not going to fret over the need of it today. Don’t we all need to get pumped once in a while?

I can just imagine how this rookie had to get pumped up for his debut game, how he would have that feeling in him of all the preparation he’d done, and of his own readiness, and how he’d feel he wouldn’t know if he was ready until he did the thing, and then how frustrated he’d feel about giving up that run that got him pulled…not because he failed…but because he’d seen what he could do.

This is what I love about baseball and life (sometimes).

St. Paul Pioneer Press, Fill-in gives Twins a lift. Kelsie Smith, 9-4-2010, 5B.

Change is good

Watched Joe Mauer get his first hit of the season yesterday. Missed his first home run today. But I saw this cool column by Tom Powers about my hometown boys (The Twins) and our ballpark, the new Target Center.

Target Field replaces the old Metrodome, which, bless its heart, at least didn’t have a corporate name attached to it. I could go on and on about this kind of thing, but I won’t except to say the corporate sponsor was probably needed to replace the old dome with the new open-air stadium. One with no retractable roof. In Minnesota. I suppose we would have needed a half-dozen corporate names in front of a stadium with a retractable roof. I can see it now: The General Mills, 3M, Kentucky Fried, Univac, West Publishing Target Field.

Anyway, this blog isn’t about the new ballpark. It’s about the unexpected (and a little bit about my continual revere on the rising of the sun).

Powers begins his column by saying:

“Imagine a world where nothing ever changes. A world where people do the same thing at the same time in the same place day after day.”

(I have to admit that there are days in which that would be a pleasant imagining to me.)

Anyway, he goes on to say, “That was the Twins world at the Metrodome. And it was mind numbing.”

The Twins opened Target Field with the loss of an exhibition game against the St. Louis Cardinals. But it was before-the-game chatter that Powers reports. One of our pitchers, Matt Guerrier saying, “It was tough going to the Dome. It was bam, bam, bam. Nothing ever changes. We stretch at this time. Do something else at the next time. Today, it was raining. I didn’t know what was going to happen.”

“The chain was broken,” Powers says. “Ooooh, this is what it’s like to live dangerously. … The Twins were like little kids wondering what the rain was going to do to the rest of their day. The answer was that it would bring changes. Batting practice was canceled. The pitchers didn’t have to shag balls.”

You get the drift.

Everyone concerned couldn’t seem to work up a care in the world about the loss. They were giddy with change, with living dangerously, with being like little kids.

I haven’t been a big fan of a ballfield without a roof as backup for bad weather. I’m not a big enough fan to want to sit in the cold or the rain. But the giddiness was infectious and the sentiment heartening.

Change is good.

Quotes by Tom Powers, “Rain? Ooooh. Now what are we gonna do?”, St. Paul Pioneer Press, 1B.