We will shortly be entering the soulless void of the all star break to be followed by the hopeless abyss of the second half of the season.
All of you attached to teams whose hopes were mercilessly tossed up on the rocks by the Gods weeks ago, if not during the cold dark of the off season, embrace the squalor of your existence!
Reds 3 Cubs 2 | Tigers 3 Rangers 1 | Nationals 3 Marlins 2
The 2016 Minnesota Twins
2016 Twins 59 – 103 GB 35.5
Phillies 17 Pirates 5 | Blue Jays 6 Yankees 2 |
Indians 10 Athletics 4
The Washington Senators
1904 38 – 113 GB 55.5
1909 42 – 110 GB 56
1903 43 – 94 GB 47.5
1907 49 – 102 GB 43.5
1949 50 – 104 GB 47
1955 53 – 101 GB 43
1957 53 – 97 GB 43
Mets 5 Rays 1 | Brewers 5 Braves 4 | Twins 6 Orioles 2
The 1981 / 1982 Minnesota Twins
7 – 0 / 7th loss in a row
1982 60 – 102 GB 33
1981 41 – 68 GB 23
Astros 11 White Sox 4 | Red Sox 10 Royals 5 | Diamondbacks 3 Padres 1
From 1993 through 2000 each and every year the Twins lost more games than they won.
From 2001 through 2006 each and every year the Twins won more games than they lost.
From 2008 through 2010 each and every year the Twins won more games than they lost.
From 2011 through 2016 each and every year the Twins lost more games than they won.
Last year surprisingly good. This year disappointing.
Angels 3 Dodgers 2 | Rockies 7 Mariners 1 | Giants 3 Cardinals 2
Have some ice cream and remember to take your meds.
13 thoughts on “Bits and Pieces Sadtwinsfan Doom and Gloom Weekend Edition”
I was at a Tobacco Road band reunion at Gulfstream Park last night and only caught the recap of the Gnats walk-orf 3-2 13th consecutive win at Gnats Stadium over the Feesh. This won’t do much to make Kyle Barraclough any more attractive to the Gnats as the trading deadline approaches. Also,I see here that Daniel Murphy came orf the bench in the bottom of the 8th and popped out with the bases loaded to end the inning. Good. The homophobic little pseudo-evangelical jerk can’t fail badly enough, often enough, to suit me.
But back to last night. Tobacco Road was a 97-year-old bar and music venue on South Miami Avenue just over the bridge from downtown that closed about five years ago when some slimebag developer bought the whole block for stuff the town couldn’t do without, like a car dealership and office-condo complex. The Road, as everyone called it, saw the likes of Lightnin’ Hopkins, Willie Dixon, Kinky Friedman and other such mythic luminaries perform over the decades. Weekdays, it was dominated by its great house band, Graham Wood Drout’s Iko-Iko, and homegrown Italo-Cuban hard bluesmeister Albert Castiglia. On Wednesdays, jazz prevailed with guys like Arturo Sandoval, Phil Strange and Leo Quintero. On Mondays, Big Poppa E (Musi Faisal, the blues guitarist, not the awful slam poet) owned the night. On Tuesdays, Graham Drout and Albert Castiglia hosted an acoustic blues night. Most weekends Iko Iko played out back on the patio under some huge banyans while the smoker was bringing pork ribs, chickens and briskets to perfection. it was to drool for.
So: last night Albert took a break from touring America- and Europe-wide and Graham pulled Iko together for an amazing night of music. Poppa E, sadly, passed away about five years ago or I know he would have been there (I still remember his wonderful version of Willie Dixon’s “Built for Comfort”). I saw folks who were Road regulars I haven’t seen in years. There was a whole lotta hugging going on. Here’s a great collaborative CD with Graham and Albert that’ll give you a sense of what those epic Tuesday late-night gigs were like:
So Jeter’s pinchpenny AAA Feesh, augmented by a few awful contractors from the Scrooge McLoria days they can’t get rid of, played the Gnats last night. Not to put too fine a point on it, but….so what?
So sorry you’re feeling downtrodden today, but by now you really ought to be used to it. I oughta know—I’m an Angels’ fan.
Ackcherley, I’m feeling “chuffed,” as my British wife would say, after last night’s concert. Anyway, I think when you stop being angry, you might as well be dead. Tranquility is much more like the big death than the little one.
Incidentally, I was in such a good mood this morning that after my original post above, I made up a batch of Doctor Gator’s deep south oyster stew, based loosely on a recipe from MFK Fischer. Fry three strips of thick uncured pork side until not quite crisp and remove from pan. Turn orf heat. Make a roux by adding a tablespoon of coconut flour to the hot bacon fat and stirring till smooth. Meanwhile, saute half a chopped onion, two chopped scallion tops, and five or six cloves of garlic in a tablespoon of French or italian A2 butter until the onions are just translucent. Turn on heat under roux and gradually add 1/3 cup of goat milk, stirring gently with your beloved wooden spoon until thoroughly mixed. Add the onion, garlic and butter mixture. Keep stirring.
Gradually add a tablespoon of white wine, hearty dash of black pepper, 1/4 tsp salt and a couple of shakes of paprika. Keep stirring, bringing the sauce to a simmer. Now add about a tablespoon or so of a grated or diced mild French cheese, like St. Agnes or brie. Stir until cheese dissolves. Then, take one large egg yolk and beat in a small bowl. Slowly add a tablespoon of the bubbling mixture at a time to the egg, stirring, until you’ve added about four tablespoons. Pour the egg mixture back into the sauce and stir some more.
Simmer over low heat until the sauce begins to thicken. Now add a dozen oysters with their liquor and continue to simmer until the oysters turn from grey to white. Turn orf the heat, cover and let stand for a few minutes. Meanwhile, toast a few slices of sourdough bread and slice them in half. Serve the oyster stew over the sliced sourdough, sprinkle with the crumbled bacon and finish up with another couple of dashes of black pepper and paprika.
The Buddha would not really approve of this but screw him for a change. This is very good stuff.
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I would have loved the show, OG. Sounds great. One other point:
If we have no other reason to love the French we have this. They favor serving their soups and stews over toasted crusty bread. A great boon to mankind.
Lost in the fact that my team of choice, the Braves, were the team of the 90s for the most part is the other fact that we couldn’t buy a win in the 80s even with Dale Murphy on our team, or that the team was one of the laughingstocks of MLB since around 2012 (or when Chipper retired, take your pick). This resurgence this year has been really amazing. What’s funny is that the fans I’ve met who are in their 20s who have never known life pre-1991 World Series were saying “This is so awful, why am I a fan of such a terrible team” and I’d just laugh at them and remind them that the reason the 1991 team is so beloved and still own Atlanta to this day almost more than the 95 team that won it all was PRECISELY because the Braves were absolute rock bottom garbage for years. Literally worst. And then they came back to within basically one inning of winning it all the next year. For those of who feel like we fail over and over again and our lives are crap, it’s really inspirational. Even in failure, you can be successful. Even when you stink, you’ve got the makings of something great. The 91 team did. Look what they accomplished.
What I’m saying is that even the worst teams out there sometimes just need a tweak and a new way of thinking, if the bones are good.
In which case you could say the Feesh are baseball’s answer to osteoporosis.
The awesomeness of Dale Murphy was balanced by the mediocrity of Biff Pocaroba, one of my all time favorite baseball names.
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Yeah, but he was no Wayne Terwilliger.
Sadtwinsfan forgot to lock the basement windows. The Twins just finished off the Fightin O’s.
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We are taking Cole Hamels to the cleaners.
Also, the Doping Putins are out of the World Cup. I am drinking alone.
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Is George Thorogood touring somewhere near?
Coda: last night during their 18-4 shellacking of the Feesh I was wondering how Someguyinva was enjoying himself at the current Gnats turnaround, even knowing they won’t have the Feesh to kick around for the whole season. After tonight’s artillery practice I suspect my whole point about their buying some pitching help from the Rainbow Warriors became pretty moot. Dear Buddha, what a rout. Now Mark Reynolds really has some stories to tell his grandchildren.
Coda to coda, though I’ll revisit this in the morning: as long as there’s a subliminal “great names” theme running through today’s thread, maybe it’s time to retire Tanner Roark to the dustbin of history too. Dear Buddha, he was serving the Feesh beachballs today.