RandBall's Stu: First of all, Gerry, how come no one's heard of you before?
Gerry Ryan: Well, I've kept a pretty low profile, working on fishing boats in Alaska, just kind of wandering the world, you know?
RS: What brought you back to the Upper Midwest?
GR: I'm between jobs right now, so figured I'd just hang with broheim for the holidays. He's got plenty of room, he don't mind.
RS: Well, he must mind you assuming his identity and doing his job!
GR: Yeah, he'll probably be steamed when he finds out, but I'm bugging out the day after Christmas, doing a walkabout in Australia. I'll be gone before he knows what happened.
RS: Well, what did happen?
GR: He got back from work one night, and he was grumbling about how people thought he needed to spend money on pitching. "Can't spend yourself back into contention, gotta build from within," that sort of thing. I was like, dude.
GR: Well, have you seen what they have within?
RS: Fair point.
GR: Yeah! And I know Terry probably knows that, but he's from Janesville, man. That part of Wisconsin, everyone's stubborn as hell and tight with a dollar. He's set in his ways and he doesn't wanna spend his money, much less his employer's.
RS: So, what happened?
GR: Well, let's just say in my travels I've come across some, let's say, herbal remedies. One of 'em will knock you the fuck out for a good, long while. And when Terry got home one night, I slipped a little in his plain baloney sandwich on white bread. Nighty-night!
RS: That seems highly illegal.
GR: Hell, it probably is. When you've faced down border guards in Laos with satchels full of hash taped inside your pant legs, a little sleepytime for your twin brother seems like a parking ticket.
RS: So walk me through what happened next.
GR: Well, I cleaned up, got a bunch of polo shirts and khakis, showed up at Target Field and started working the phones. Next thing you know, boom, Ricky Nolasco and Phil Hughes. Let's roll, right?
RS: No one has noticed anything?
GR: I think some of the office workers have their doubts. I have to stop myself from doing fist bumps with my personal assistant, and I don't think my bro said "Namaste" to Davey St. Petes (Twins President Dave St. Peter) near as much as I do.
RS: I don't think he's ever said that.
GR: Probably not.
RS: How are the Winter Meetings?
GR: Been a blast, man. Hotel livin' is sweet. Drinks at the pool, surf 'n turf for dinner, dance floor 'til the sun comes up. Can't beat it. Got my guy Deuces back up in the metro making sure Terry's getting nutrients and plenty of sleep.
RS: Why haven't the Twins made any moves yet?
GR: Moves? Shit, this is vacation, son. I check out on Friday at noon. Those peckerwoods know how to get a hold of me if they want to. Mike Pelfrey's not going anywhere.