Well shut my mouth and call me Clyde, the Twins went and won their home opener last night. Nearly all the things I asked for in yesterday’s post came true. Bradke didn’t strike out every batter in the first inning, but he did strike out two of them, and third was put out without much trouble, without any of his usual first inning giving up of homerun after blessed homerun (Not until the second inning, anyway. Progress, not perfection.) Rondell White got a hit (as did pretty much everyone else), and Batista? Totally Boyfriend of the Day.
I’m thinking I should have asked for more. Like peace in the middle east, an all-liberal supreme court, cures for cancer and AIDS, and, oh yeah, a nice little Powerball win so I can pay for the DemiGoddesses’ college tuition and also buy that gorgeous bungalow that’s for sale over on Webster Avenue. Because, let’s face it, at this time yesterday, it all seemed about equally likely.
But hindsight, it is 20/20. The opportunity has passed, and even without the pork-barrel wishes, I’ll take the “hope opener” exactly as it was. Thanks, fellas.
Today’s Kitchen Improvement Task: The Priming of the Walls