Dear Twins, we need to talk

Oh hello there, friends!

As I sat down at the ol’ laptop this week to bring you some brain dump about the Twins, I honestly couldn’t think of anything.

Nada.

Zip.

Not. One. God. Damned. Thing. Of. Interest.

I mean, yeah, there are stories to write about, I’m sure. I’m sure there are players playing (kind of) and there are games being played, but nothing is interesting enough to me to write about, which would translate into nothing interesting for you to read about.

So why, then, am I wasting your time this week? Well, partially because we here at Twinkie Town are contractually obligated to write about the Twins. But also to see if you guys are as disinterested as I am.

I’ve always been a never-say-die fan, and I get really annoyed when fans stop cheering when I’m at a game and the Twins are down a run. I don’t leave games early if they’re down a lot to a little. I don’t turn off the tv or radio in disgust if they blow a massive lead. At least, that was before this past couple of weeks. But now? I kind of say die. This season, if the game is tied, or if they’re down any runs in the later half of the game, or if they don’t have a five run lead, I am assuming they’re going to blow it. I’ve never lost faith in the Twins, not even during Gardy’s final seasons.

I’ve told you time and time and time again this season not to freak out, sure they’ll turn it around. But you know what? Go ahead. Panic. Screw this team. They’re like a bad boyfriend that keeps hurting us over and over and over, and we keep letting them. Between the umptyfoo playoff games in a row they’ve lost since 2004 and the sucktacular way they’ve broken my heart with their (as of the time of this writing) 12-23 record this season, well they have to earn my love back. I’m talking John Cusack holding a boombox over his head, Richard Gere standing through the limo sunroof on his way to climb up Julia Roberts’s fire escape despite a crippling fear of heights, Adam Sandler hopping a flight to Vegas to sing to Drew Barrymore with Billy Idol’s help, or pretty much the entire last 45 minutes of Love Actually.

Yes, I need the entire Twins squad to take a limo to my house holding roses and cue cards, boom boxes, and Billy freaking Idol to beg for my love.

I couldn’t wait to get back to Target Field on Opening Day, and risked my freaking life to do so (ok, I’m being dramatic, I’d already been half vaccinated for Covid at that point but still..). I went to three games that first week of play and couldn’t wait to redeem more of my Flex Plan tickets. And then the wheels fell off. When the Twins released May tickets, I begrudgingly got tickets one game for late May so it would at least be warm out. I was originally bummed that the Twins would be on the road on Mother’s Day, because I love to be at Target Field on that day - and when they’re on the road, I like to sit out on my screen porch and watch the game with my family. This year, however, when the Mother’s Day game in Detroit was rained out, I was kind of relieved. The Twins couldn’t blow a late inning lead and ruin my day off.

When the Twins announced that they’d be expanding capacity over the next couple of months, I wondered who in their right mind would even want to cram into Target Field by July? THIS IS NOT LIKE ME, YOU GUYS. The me of 1 - 41 years ago would to slap the current, 42-year-old me silly for losing faith in the team I’ve loved for my whole life. But the Marea living in 2021 does not have time for this bullshit.

Do you want to hear what my limo, roses, cue cards, and boomboxes are? Well, remember in Moneyball when Billy Beane (Brad Pitt) started trading people like crazy? I think the 2021 Twins version of the 2002 A’s clubhouse cancer Jeremy Giambi is Josh Donaldson. I think if the Twins got rid of Donaldson and his big contract, his ego, his lack of performance and his shitty calf he’d 1) probably go do well somewhere else 2) give some of our lower-priced-but-trying-to-make-a-name-for-themselves guys (current roster or AAA, I don’t even care) a reason to go get their own stupidly overpriced contract. Trade him to a team with an abundance of at least mediocre pitching and a need for a “power hitter” (not that he’s bringing the rain) and get at least one really good reliever. Dump Colome and Shoemaker, stop blowing games, and maybe climb back into at least 4th place in the division.

That statement might ruffle some feathers. But you know what? I. DON’T. CARE. This team is ruffling my feathers. And when MY feathers have been ruffled by the Twins? When MY hope is lost? That means the wheels have really, really fallen off.

What about you, readers? Have you written off the season? Or is it still early enough for you to have hope?

xoxo,

Marea