I haven't been this disturbed by an omen at the beginning of a baseball season since 2011 when 14 young pine trees planted just beyond the center field wall were dug up & summarily disposed upon the sacrificial altar of the almighty hitter - in case you missed that day in Marketing class allow me to paraphrase what I was taught which is that altar of offense must be fed in order to prod the ticket-buying masses toward pacification lest they become frightened away by pitching duels - but just yesterday I heard about the For Sale sign on the lawn in front of manager Ron Gardenhire's house in Little Canada. Where are you going Gardy? Concerned with your job status? Why? Don't you know the bar has now been set so low after the worst back to back seasons in franchise history that a mere 77 wins could easily earn you a contract extension. Win 82 & they'll throw you a ticker tape parade along the streets of the L.C. as you depart in your moving van in search of 6 month leases elsewhere in the metro area. Why sell now when there's no place to go but up? How could fortunes not improve in Twins Territory after Gardenhire was finally forced to lobotomize his Ullger, Vavra & Liddle brain trust so that his senses might be buffered by coaches who not only played major league baseball but experienced post-season success. Good Lord for the first time since 2001, I can look into the Twins dugout and breathe again....Terry Steinbach is our bench coach....Tom Brunansky is our hitting coach....this must be a very confusing time for Gardy who I suspect relied upon the premise that by surrounding himself with a crew full of Gilligans, his status as skipper would be less likely to come into question. Actually, it was more like Gilligan, the Professor from the University of Wisconsin-Stout, and Lovey the Stop Sign. But enough about the boat that sank, I was trying to convey that I'm in a positive state of mind after said lobotomy. It also doesn't hurt that power pitching-arms can be seen on the horizon (assuming Gardenhire doesn't get frustrated by the temperamental fire-ballers and lobby the GM to ship 'em off to Tampa Bay in exchange for Delmon Young). The storm appears to be over. The skipper did not go down with the ship, so where would he be going now? Gardy, I suggest you reconsider home ownership in Minnesota, and this coming from the one guy sworn to assist in your removal from Target Field. Maybe it's time for me to finally acknowledge that you do possess managing skills - 12 straight playoff losses - 195 losses over the last two seasons - a career managerial record of 9 & 35 at Yankee Stadium - and yet there you are still scurrying down the anchor chain and finding dry land on which to cash massive checks, while I remain eternally bitter that my stagnant disposable income slowly flows in the opposite direction toward the Pohlad estate. Faced with this reality how could I not admit you're a better manager than I. You win Gardy. I'm now convinced you could skim along the unbalanced waves floating upon nothing more than a liquor-store pocket schedule and should you ever capsize how cold could the water possibly be when that schedule is stocked 76 games deep with horribly flawed pool pee'ers from Cleveland, Chicago, Kansas City & Detroit.

Digging through the archives comes naturally to any amateur historian killing time in an urban wasteland, thus I stumbled upon a news story dated August 16, 2012 in which the St. Paul Pioneer Press (yes, still afloat. yes, still spotted in broad daylight selling itself on street corners for not much more than two-bits) reported on page 2B under the headline - Twins switch radio home to FM - that "On KTWN, the Twins should have a clearer signal and, Dave St. Peter (team president) hopes, a chance to reach younger listeners." I made up no part of that quote. Attract younger listeners by switching the format from hip-hop to Fleetwood Mac's greatest hits, yes I get that part of the equation. But clearer signal?  Know, sickly KTWN, that the Ides of March are upon us and I find myself disconnected from my team for the very first time as I stab up & down then down again the FM dial in pursuit of this alleged new home of the Minnesota Twins. Also know, advertisers of alcohol & cremation services, that if I'm forced to listen to Cardinal or Cub affiliates, both of which can be found on a clear night, I will. Why not Brewer games you ask? Tragically, because Bob Uecker - who I could always hear on 106.3 - has now been drowned out by 107.1, a new Twin Cities celebrity gossip station for those too illiterate to read the National Enquirer. I'm told by friends West of the Mississippi, who have no problem with KTWN's reception, that I'm overreacting. Just seek out 96.3 they say. It's the station formerly known as B-96. Yes I know. I'm more than familiar with that particular signal but only because it has managed to elude me for over a decade as I drive, work, attempt sleep, then die a little each day on the East side of Saint Paul.

Unable to pull the plug in time the 10:00 local news began - no Joy - no Rena - no reason to go on watching, yet I paused long enough to learn the doomsday clock as established by atomic scientists at the University of Chicago in 1947 is indeed ticking and it's now 5 minutes to midnight. Of course the reporter reading the press release had no photographic proof of any such clock, it was more of a state of mind to be projected upon the viewer in the never-ending quest to get free individuals to stay tuned. And affixed I remained to the warm blue glow until about 4 a.m. when the smell of expired white milk drove me to the market where instilled with fear I spent money like there's no tomorrow frantically gobbling up Twins single-game tickets which went on sale to the general public February 16th in the hope that their face value depreciates slower than the treasury's note.

The frozen gap a Minnesota base baller must fill between the world series & spring training now seems a bottomless pit as January's most vicious winds blow and no longer do I have the desire to warm myself on the sabbath in front of an irradiated television beaming 9 hours of professional football into my frigid skull. The league will tell you it has evolved, those of us still living in the 20th century say go on without us and take the 2013 NFC title game with you. Nearing the last snap of the 3rd quarter a defensive lineman who would be stupid not to stick 'em up to block a critical 3rd down pass brushes those outstretched hands against the QB's steel fortress of a helmet an immense infraction keeping his defense on the field for the 4th quarter of a game which presents its winner with the George Halas trophy.....F'n George Halas! where are you George or are you unrecognizable too? before I die I may visit your grave and share a forty with you, we'll toast to Erosion - yours, mine and the league's gradual slide from real competition to fantasy football. Once that bottle gets emptied what better time to aim it in the direction of pass interference. Pass interference 15 yards automatic first down. Pass interference you came into contact with Cris Carter or Michael Irvin more than 5 yards down the field never mind who initiated the contact the important thing to remember is that these gentlemen would never stoop to placing their hands on you. Pass interference on a west coast dink during a 3rd & 20 slam dunk, irrelevant, automatic first down.  Pass interference, while running stride for stride with Calvin Johnson then matching the apex of his leap some 60 yards downfield you didn't turn around mid-air to see the ball you're not paid to catch coming. Arbitrary subjective open to interpretation pass interference in the end zone whether the football was chucked up for grabs from the ten twenty or fifty quick somebody seize that pigskin and lay it on the goal line and once you find yourself there don't be surprised when the men in black & white try to shove an apple in your mouth whispering in your ear about evolution while warming up the spit.

New York, Oakland, Baltimore, Texas, Tampa Bay & the California Angels, six American League teams with more 2012 regular season wins than the Detroit Tigers. Congratulations Bud Selig you must be very proud of your product, given your mental state I'm quite sure you scoop it out of the toilet and stare at it in mason jars when you're not busy pissing on history books. 5 A.L. teams qualified for the 2012 post-season tournament, 9 did not. The team with the 7th most wins - Detroit - would be the A.L. representative to the World Series not that anybody was watching, who would? Thanks to Bud's other dark legacy, the unbalanced schedule, I didn't need another Tiger game after sitting through 18 with Minnesota. Let's see  - they can't play defense -they're too slow to get to the ball in the infield gaps even if they could pick it - the outfield can't deliver an accurate throw not that the corner outfielders would be in position to make a play anyway (Austin Jackson can go get it unless the World Series winning run is on 2nd with 2 out in which case he pulls up short)  - they're unable to play small ball in tight games when getting down a bunt in the 8th or 9th inning is critical and who could possibly trust their bullpen....nice formula Jim Leyland it got you a 10 -8 record against the 4th worst Twins team in franchise history. It didn't fare that well against anyone else either but hey squeak out the season series versus Minnesota, hold your own through 54 more games with Cleveland, Kansas City & Chicago and come September you too could be hovering slightly above .500 a fine perch from which to stake your claim to 7th place then begin an October assault upon the World Series.

Tail between legs I slunk to the cable company and offered up $100 a month every month, in exchange they promised to drain my life one sitcom at a time, a surrender I can come to terms with as long as it includes the MLB Xtra Innings package. What choice did I have? Watching or listening to all 162 Minnesota Twins games, as I had from 1991 through 2011, was out of the question once it became clear that 2012 would be every bit the disaster the Mayans predicted. Ominous signs began as early as March when Ron Gardenhire began to crumble after an exhibition game against the Devil Rays (3/26/12) telling those awake in the press that "Our starting pitcher (Baker) put us in a hole today...He says his arm is fine, everything's good. Well then let's go. Get on the ball, throw the ball. That's all I want to see from here on out. That was too long of a three innings. It's all B.S."..... Wow sounds like somebody forgot to hit the Waffle House before the game. Gardenhire can be easily provoked when he's hungry just as Scott Baker's right elbow can become inflamed when told to let it fly in Spring Training - great pitching instincts Gardy - soon after winging it as commanded our #2 starter ended up on the DL never to be seen again. The same can't be said of Gardy who was on the flight back from Fort Myers when the team broke camp transferring in Baltimore before the baggage arrived 0 - 3 in Minneapolis. Staggering off the tarmac Gardenhire made his way toward the opening day gates of Target Field but not before stopping off at the annual welcome-home Twins civic luncheon where he was presented with a local Emmy Award for his acting role in a sports TV commercial promotional spot. I didn't attend the event (it was a 500 ticket sell out) but I have no doubt it was well-deserved because Gardy has excelled at acting like a big league manager for over a decade. Spit seeds? check. Exaggerated confrontations with an umpire? check. Spew tired cliches win or lose? check. Criticize pitchers for not throwing strikes? check. Criticize pitchers for throwing it over the plate when they get whacked? check. Message to any future Twins pitcher: It's rather simple to get on Gardy's good side, all you really have to do is paint the inside & outside corners of the strike zone while simultaneously deceiving the hitter as to which pitch is coming....I got off track there I meant to be talking about the 0 - 3 Twins who would wrap up a series in Anaheim one month later at 6 - 18. Coming off a 99 loss season blood was already in the water as the road trip pushed us to the shores of Seattle landing under the command of Acting Manager Scott Ullger who took over following the Jered Weaver no-hitter which completed a 3 game Angel sweep after which Ron Gardenhire said "we can't continue like this" then promptly hopped on a plane back to Minnesota taking three games off to attend the college graduation of his daughter - without getting too personal let me just say if my daughter is graduating from M.I.T. yeah I think I miss one game....Southwest State? There's never a good reason to go to the southwest corner of Minnesota but Gardy went anyway and Twins fans held their collective breath for 3 days wondering how he would ever find his way back to civilization. Undaunted by logistical concerns Acting Manager Scotty Ullger engaged in a titanic battle of wits with Eric Wedge (interestingly enough the smartest of the last 3 Cleveland managers I can think of - Acta, Wedge, Hargrove - by default) bravely stealing one of three from the slimy Mariners leaving us 7 - 20 with five months to go. Playing .500 ball is no easy thing and .500 ball from that point forward gets you a 75 & 87 record, a shitty season anytime anywhere, a season Gardy could only hope for after coughing up a 96, hell a 75 - 87 season might have saved his crack coaching staff from reassignment - yes reassignment - that's how we respond to blood baths in Twins Territory. Reluctantly I'm forced to play the race card as I ask you to consider the case of Dennis Green vs Ron Gardenhire. Denny, like Gardy, racked up Division Titles then HAD TO GO when his teams didn't produce on the big stage (4 - 8 postseason including a 4 game losing streak). Do you think there's a bizarro world where Viking fans would have stuck with him if he lost 8 straight playoff games, shit perhaps Minnesota Nice Exists I have no problem envisioning a scenario where they would stand by Denny after 12 straight and if Viking fans are capable of that kind of depth imagine how deep mild-mannered Twins fans would be willing to sink provided they had the peace of mind they're being led to the sediment by a non-threatening white man.

Ty Cobb looking back on his unsuccessful stint managing the Detroit Tigers naturally deflected all criticism saying "no manager who ever lived could beat the blame when his men fucked up" -
thankfully he's dead and thus unable to retract his statement proven wrong by a magical place called Twins Territory where hitting coaches, pitching coaches and 3rd base stop signs are offered up as sacrificial lambs by the masses yet their Field General remains beyond reproach. I'm not sure what spell the fan base is under which allows them to sleep at night because I've been haunted since the day of departure two months ago when Ron Gardenhire moved his troops North from Florida telling every passerby that this year's squad would be a team where no one was on scholarship then hammered his point home by auditioning every outfielder under the sun surely a shrewd move in February & March insane come April & May. Ladies and Gentlemen of the psych ward here we have a manager sporting a .222 postseason winning percentage coming off a 99 loss campaign getting off to a 10 -26 start who takes 2 months to notice a big pile of speed under his nose. Did he learn nothing from 2011 because I lived through it and clearly saw one freshman EARN a spot with the varsity, Ben Revere in 450 at bats hit .267 (I would have been ecstatic with .250 considering his defensive presence can lower pitching ERA's by .50), stole 34 bases (all 34 apparently undervalued by Gardenhire), and tracked down nearly every fly ball in his area code an obvious asset to any fan sitting in the upper deck who sees just how much green there is to be had at Target Field. I wish I was making this stuff up but it's a matter of public record that our manager tried covering that ground with Doumit, Plouffe, Parmalee, Cletus, Komatsu & Mastroianni through the middle of May before dragging his lazy eye back to the farm where Revere was raking inexplicable paralysis contributing to the deep dark 2012 hole in which we find ourselves, a hole still escapable given the sorry state of the A.L. Central but a hole nonetheless dug for us all by the hand of Ron Gardenhire.