What it might be like to be a Twins fan on the road

Maybe you’re a Twins fan who doesn’t live in Minnesota, so it might be hard to see Twins games live. The closest park to you might be Fenway, and you might be off work when the Twins play the Red Sox in September, and you might decide to go.

You might get on the T, only to have your train have a brake problem, and have to switch trains. But you might be on the same train as a couple, a pair of Red Sox fans, who lives one town away from you. You might get to talking and decide to grab a pre-game dinner together, maybe at that restaurant inside the Green Monster.

After departing, you might head into the ballpark early to catch the final trickles of batting practice. You might have brought a book to read before the game starts, but you might have already finished it.

You might be heckled a bit, wearing a Twins jersey in a sea of Boston fans. You might have an old guy say to you, “They have presentable hats at the team store.” You might miss it the first time he says it. It might not be so bad, as most fans might be friendly.

The fans sitting next to you might be friendly as well, another couple who’s into photography and videography. Though they might be Red Sox fans, they may also be Tortuga fans, and they might appreciate your Willians Astudillo jersey.

You might get a great view of Mookie Betts lofting a ball off the Pesky Pole, and you might groan while everyone around you cheers. You may get to reverse those emotions later when Astudillo gives the Twins the lead with a bases-loaded single.

Towards the end of the game, you might spot another fan in an Astudillo jersey, this one a spring training jersey from 2018 with jersey number 78. You might be in shock and forget to give that dude a high-five.

When J.D. Martinez smashes a ball off the Green Monster for a potential game-tying double, you might stand up with all the Boston fans. You might be too short to see what happens, so you might have to decipher the result of the play at the plate from the reactions of the fans around you. You might see Eddie Rosario’s throw be on line, ahead of the charging Rafael Devers, so you might have a good idea of what’s about to happen. The fans might shout loud groans in unison, and you might cheer and pump your fist before writing the concluding “7-2” in your scorebook.

You might be mistaken for a Twins fan on the walk back to the Kenmore station. You might-- no, you will end up in a cramped train car, possibly next to nursing students from Springfield and an old man who speaks uncomfortably about their attractiveness. You might end up at your station at 11:30, half an hour before your parking expires, and not get home until 1 in the morning.

All in all, it might just be a great day, and a great day for some baseball. It was a great day.