Aw, Yeah

Boof Bonser served up six runs in the first inning of yesterday’s game, and although I was sorely tempted to find something better to do with my time, My Ho and I stuck it out, and my Darling Beloveds repaid our perseverance with a come-from-behind win that put them a game and a half in first place in the A.L. Central. This may be as fleeting as springtime in Minnesota, so let’s enjoy it while it lasts, shall we?

As if that wasn’t enough baseball joy for one day, last night My Ho, Demigoddess the Younger and I made a trip to the Champps in Eden Prairie to see Michael Cuddyer host a “Twins Unplugged” event featuring Jesse Crain and Nick “Is it warm in here, or is it just me?” Blackburn. I had never attended one of these events before, but when I heard who the guest Twins would be, I decided that Mr. Blackburn is definitely worth a drive to Eden Prairie. And I was so right.

I got an autograph and thanked him for restoring my will to live after the you-know-who trade. He looked straight at me and smiled (SWOON), and said he didn't think he'd be filling those particular shoes any time soon. It took considerable effort not to climb over the table and LICK HIM.

Boof Bonser was also there and appeared to be in good spirits despite the above-mentioned first inning. He confirmed that he is still letting Livan wear the big trousers.

The Adventures of Veganman

Nick “Slow Burn” Blackburn performed nicely in his second start last night. It wasn't as pretty as his first start, but it was good enough to earn him a third this Saturday. The Twins were ahead 3-2 when he left the game, and it looked like he might just get himself a win, until Pat Neshek suddenly developed a hitch in his hip thrust, managing to smash Joe Crede's bat and give up a grand slam home run with the same pitch.

One wonders if an ill-intentioned bat boy secretly tucked a Chicago dog into our vegan reliever’s locker before the game, knowing that close proximity to animal by-products would sap his mojo, just like kryptonite to Superman.


Fortunately, a Chicago dog's potency is much shorter lived than that of kryptonite. Within a few hours, the smell of funky relish will announce to everyone in the locker room that something is rotten in U.S. Cellular Field. And today's off day will provide Mr. Neshek with the recovery time he needs to return on Wednesday and show the White Sox why it's never a good idea to piss off Veganman.

He's Baaaaaaack...

We hadn't planned on attending yesterday's game until I realized on Friday night that it wasn't going to be televised, and was lamenting that fact to My Ho. He said, "Why don't we go?" I said, "Why don't we?" So we did.

And when 1 for 17 Justin Morneau came to the plate for his second at bat of the game, with the Royals ahead 2-0 and two men on base, I turned to My Ho and said, "He is SO due. This would be a really, really good time...." And My Ho agreed.

And then Mr. Morneau shelled one right out of the park, and everybody jumped up and down and screamed, and as he rounded the bases, I though I could hear our curly-haired Canuck say, "HA HA you fools! I was only PRETENDING to be in a hitting slump to see if you were paying a-tten-tioooooonnnnnn!"

A Note to Messrs. Everett and Lamb

Hi guys--

I know I've talked some smack about your ears and unibrow, respectively. And I made that joke about watching games on the radio at your expense. But, I feel I must clarify something.

Because while a more traditionally good-looking guy who plays bad baseball will never, ever, be hot, at the same time a less, erm, aesthetically pleasing player (or two) who pulls off a perfect suicide squeeze is totally in the running for boyfriend status.

Nicely done, fellas.

(Heart),
TwinsGoddess

It's a World Gone Mad

Clearly, that series against the Angels was only a warmup for the arse-whuppin' we're in for at the hands the FIRST PLACE KANSAS CITY ROYALS.

I think I need to go lie down now.

Is It Warm In Here, Or Is It Just Me?

Apparently Nick Blackburn pitched a few innings last season, but I guess I was too consumed by another well-documented obsession to notice. Clearly, I was suffering from a nasty, nasty case of Venezuelan myopia.

Because early in tonight's game, I was astonished to find myself feeling strange stirrings in places I thought would never feel strange stirrings ever again.

So tall! So pretty! So deliciously side-burn-y! So completely free of unfortunate facial hair!

Did I mention the pretty?

Never mind that the Twins couldn't manage to win it.

KKKKKK=HotHotHotHotHotHot

Oh, dear.

Opening Day

It was a fine day for baseball:

Not really.

But the baseball happened anyway, in spite of the weather. In spite of the fact that Torii Hunter was on the field wearing an Angels uniform. And in spite of the fact that the only Santana in the Metrodome was Ervin "The Other" Santana, also in an Angels uniform and most definitely not a certain two-time Cy Young winner who was SO VERY NOT THERE.

Torii got a standing ovation before the game, and he pointed into the stands and fist-bumped his heart. It was close, but I didn't cry.

And when I heard that a certain lefty for whom I once harbored certain unreasonably passionate feelings struck out eight for the Mets earlier today, I winced, but there were no tears.

I had a hot dog, My Ho kept score, I sang along with the Hormel Row of Fame song. And these new Twins--that speedy one, the one with the unfortunate ears, that guy with the unibrow, the one with the brother, and the pitcher with the big trousers? Well, they went ahead and won the game.

Here's hoping they can do it again sometime soon. Maybe even a few times.

That would be good.

More Hot Haiku Action

The full video is now on the Strib website, including another reading of mine by Joe Mauer.

(JOE MAUER!! **SQUEE!!**)

Boof Said “Big Trousers”!

Last Friday, a call for spring training-themed haiku went out from Section 220.

My contribution, which I posted as “TwinsGoddess” (my old Batgirl moniker), was this:

Boof is thin, Livan
Is here ‘cuz someone has to
Wear the big trousers.

And here, direct from Fort Myers, is a dramatic reading of my original work, by none other than Boof Bonser himself.

I've only watched that video about seven thousand times.

A package? For ME?

I received a very special surprise in the mail yesterday, from my exceptionally awesome cousin Tiffany in Seattle:
It's a Joe Mauer Dugout Doll of my very own!

I have yet to find out how he came to be in her possession in Seattle, but apparently the DemiGoddesses have been in on this one and did an excellent job of keeping it on the down-low.

At first, I put him in my bedroom, in between my official Doug Mientkiewicz limited edition Rapala fishing lure and the ball My Ho caught when we were at Safeco. But then he started to freak me out, so I had to move him to the living room.

Dude's got the CRAZY EYES.

Spring Training, *Now With More Butts!*

"TWINS 8, ORIOLES 7
at Fort Myers, Fla.
Thursday, March 6

Twins at the plate: Delmon Young drove in two runs with a single to right field in the first inning, part of a 3-for-3 day at the plate for the left fielder…

(Mr. Young. Hot.)

"...Minnesota rallied in the eighth inning on RBI singles by Jon Knott and Matt Macri."

(Messrs. Macri and Knott. Hott.)

In the spring, a Goddess' fancy lightly turns to thoughts of hot guys in baseball pants.

“TWINS 7, YANKEES 5
at Tampa, Fla.
Wednesday, March 5

…Delmon Young blasted a long solo homer in the second inning off the black batter's eye beyond the 408-foot mark in center field. Garrett Jones slugged a two-run homer in the fifth inning off the party deck in right field, his first of the spring…”


Delmon Young


Garrett Jones

Mee-YOW! That is more like it.

Here's Hoping They're Really, REALLY Good at Baseball

Mike Lamb

Adam Everett

Jason Pridie

Otherwise I'm going to be catching a LOT of games on the radio this season.

*Sigh.*

Certainly Not Wishing Him Ill in Any Way

But I have to admit, this helps a little:

How Bad it Got

The Day After

From: Concerned Co-Worker
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2008 9:41 AM
To: EverydaySuperGoddess

are u ok?


From: EverydaySuperGoddess
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2008 9:45 AM
To: Concerned Co-Worker

Pretty far from it, actually.


From: Concerned Co-Worker
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2008 9:46 AM
To: EverydaySuperGoddess

We got robbed - I don't know what they were thinking.


From: EverydaySuperGoddess
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2008 9:52 AM
To: Concerned Co-Worker

It doesn't matter any more. I've decided to become a Cleveland Indians fan.


From: Concerned Co-Worker
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2008 9:55 AM
To: EverydaySuperGoddess

That is crazy talk. You are not abandoning your team!!!


From: EverydaySuperGoddess
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2008 9:59 AM
To: Concerned Co-Worker

I can't take the Twins' brand of baseball any more. I need a team that's willing to pay to keep its talent, not pass it on for not even a handful of f*cking PROSPECTS.

Besides which, Grady Sizemore is HOTT.


From: Concerned Co-Worker
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2008 10:00 AM
To: EverydaySuperGoddess

You are changing teams for a piece of as$. I am so disappointed in you.


From: EverydaySuperGoddess
Sent: Wednesday, January 30, 2008 10:06 AM
To: Concerned Co-Worker

It's always been about the butts. I've never pretended differently.



The Day After The Day After

From: Sister Meghan
Sent: Thursday, January 31, 2008, 8:01 AM
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: HYA

How are you today? Feeling better?


From: EverydaySuperGoddess
Sent: Thursday, January 31, 2008 8:08 AM
To: Sister Meghan
Subject: RE: HYA

I think I'm having an existential crisis. Asking the hard questions.

I'm also thinking of taking up ceramics. That seems like a nice, non-painful hobby, and at least I'd have something to SHOW for it.


From: Sister Meghan
Sent: Thursday, January 31, 2008 10:18 AM
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: RE: HYA

What hard questions are you asking?


From: EverydaySuperGoddess
Sent: Thursday, January 31, 2008 10:29 AM
To: Sister Meghan
Subject: RE: HYA

Oh, you know, questions like:

Why would I continue to be a Twins fan when every time I grow to really love a player, they disappear to the free agent market or get traded for a microphone?

Should I quit baseball all together? Could I if I even wanted to?

Or, should I just quit the Twins and find myself another team? Because, clearly, I am constitutionally incapable of NOT becoming overly emotionally invested, to the point where my mental stability is in peril.

And, if I do abandon baseball, or even just the Twins, then what exactly does that leave me with? Who would I be then?

Those kinds of hard questions.

And, of course, the hardest one of all—how interested am I, really, in living in a world without Johan?


From: Sister Meghan
Sent: Thursday, January 31, 2008 10:32 AM
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: RE: HYA

Well, you could become a Mets fan. At least he didn't go to the Yankees....


From: EverydaySuperGoddess
Sent: Thursday, January 31, 2008 10:41 AM
To: Sister Meghan
Subject: RE: HYA

Yes, thank God for that. It is a small consolation that he's gone to the National League, which means I'll hardly ever have to SEE him pitch in another team's uniform. I don't know if my heart could take it.

Or, make that, I don't know if the cold, dead space that used to be my heart could take it.


A Few Days After That

From: EverydaySuperGoddess
Sent: Monday, February 4, 2008, 10:50 AM
To: Batgirl
Subject: Johan

None of my co-workers were at all surprised that I took a sick day on Wednesday.

On Thursday I took down all the photos that I had up at work.

The next, and most painful, step will be to take down all the stuff at home and put away my jersey.

And I am straight-up mad at everybody.


From: Batgirl
Sent: Monday, February 04, 2008 1:41 PM
To: EverydaySuperGoddess
Subject: Johan

i know, i know. i've chosen to pretend it hasn't happened.


From: EverydaySuperGoddess
Sent: Monday, February 04, 2008 1:49 PM
To: Batgirl
Subject: Johan

Yes. That's probably best.

Except that, well, the change will become painfully apparent on opening day, when a certain butt is noticeably not doing a certain waggle on the pitcher's mound.

(*Insert pained, weepy sigh here.*)

But then again, I probably won't be able to see anything through the tears, anyway.

I serously cried for five hours on Tuesday night. I came home from work, grunted in the general direction of the children, and then went directly to bed with a box of tissues and a pizza. The girls didn't even know it had happened until My Ho called and told them.

DemiGoddess the Elder made me snickerdoodles.

Still Nursing the Gaping Black Hole Where My Heart Used To Be*

I cannot go to the ocean
I cannot drive the streets at night
I cannot wake up in the morning
Without you on my mind
So you're gone and I'm haunted
And I bet you are just fine
Did I make it that
Easy to walk right in and out
Of my life?

Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?

So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should have known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do

*But I am out of bed now, so that's something.