Royce Lewis is possibly hurt again. Chris Paddack is more like last year than this year. It’s not what you want.
The Twins aren’t better than the Astros, and Royce Lewis is lifted in the 9th inning of a pointless loss because he’s probably hurt again. This game was bad. Inning-by-inning notes:
1: Pregame, Paddack is on radio talking about the company that makes his stirrup socks. 9 different kinds! It is the worst promo I’ve ever heard. We’re doomed.
Buxton with single. Jeffers with GIDP. The Astros crowd does not boo Correa. Cheaters never prosper, except when they do, which is most of the time.
Jeremy Joan Peña singles and Yainer Diaz doubles him to third. The stirrup doom begins. Joseph Altuve infield groundout — contact play not on, imagine NOT running into easy outs at home! We can dream… Christian Walker, appropriately, walks. There’s a K and then rookie Cam Smith gets the RBIs. Fuggin’ stirrups, man, it sould be a JINX to talk about those.
Atteberry says Jacob Melton is from “Medford, Oregon, down there on the coast.” Did Medford move since I left Oregon? It wasn’t on the coast before. Lots of weed and meth production there, though. It gives Melton enough superpowers to knock in one more. STIRRUPS. Astros 3-0
2: A bad hop eats up Correa, and Justin Morneau mentions fielding tips Tom Kelly used to give him. Hadn’t Kelly retired by then? I guess he musta kept hanging around. Just to throw more BP in Zubaz.
Walker does not walk this time; he makes the third out. Is that good? Well, he batted last inning, so what does that tell ya! Use your baseball MIND. Enron Fielders 5-0
3: Signs of life? One out Lee single and Bader double. Lord Byron pops a shallow fly to right, no tagup. A walk to Jeffers loads ’em up for Correa. Groundout. The stirrups have cursed THIS WHOLE SEASON
Atteberry: “it’s not Chris Paddack’s fault, but” injuries, etc. No, injuries aren’t his fault, but pitching poorly in this game is. Standard disclaimer: Paddack is better at baseball than I’ll ever be at anything, same goes for Atteberry and broadcasting. Minute Maid Parkers 8-0
4: Willi Castro bombs one. He’s not the greatest bat or greatest glove, but this guy is a great gamer. He’s a pro. Team doing great, team in a rut, he’s gonna do his thing the same way every day. I like him.
And the Astros bomb one too, OK. 9-1
5: Atteberry now comparing something to Roman aqueducts. I just watched six hours of depressing Italian movies about WWII. I know nothing of aqueducts. Anna Magnani was really good at acting, though. I like Sergio Leone’s movies — especially Henry Fonda as the evil baddie in “Once Upon a Time in the West.” Am I babbling? No, it’s the computer. I’m not babbling, I’m overtyping. There’s a difference.
Paddack is finito. Justin Topa relieves him; “topa” is Italian for where you put Parmesan cheese. On topa the pasta.
6: Royce Lewis hits a bomba, which will help him when he’s traded for prospects.
Morneau on radio: “my brother is a great meat smoker.” Apparently, Glen Perkins makes great ribs. Good for you guys; I make the best homemade bagels. Can you put cream cheese on ribs for breakfast? You could, but it’d be Wrong. Bagels rule.
Do not, however, cut a bagel, in your hand, with the knife going towards your palm. It might not end well. There was an incident in New York, where a person sharing my first and last names did this foolish thing, and the ambulance was called. The EMTs immediately asked, “bagel?” They’d seen that before. Tequila Sunrises jerseys (not tonight, alas, those jerseys RULE) 9-2
Subsequent innings:
Morneau talks about playing in Puerto Rico, “life experience.” Does he mean the island’s rich history and vibrant culture? Or baseball groupies? Must be the museums, I’m sure.
Atteberry mentions a favorite margarita bar in Houston. I’m sorry, margarita lovers, but I’ve never been a fan. Salt? Salt has no place in a tasty intoxicating beverage. Booze dehydrates you enough, salt doesn’t help.
When making bagels, watch the salt! This is my go-to recipe, but I add Kirkland bagel toppings (from Costco) to the dough, and there’s salt in the toppings. Salt impedes the dough rising. So, I use a little less than a teaspoon of added salt. Ignore the overnight stuff, it’s completely unnecessary.
Oh, and, at the close of the 8th, Atteberry says “7-2, this is your home for Twins baseball.” The score is 10-2. I feel less guilty for rambling about bagels. (Rambling, not babbling, there’s a difference.)
Google keeps trying to tell me that it should translate this page to English. It fits.
Studs: don’t care. Duds: Paddack having a bad day, it happens. Too much salt in bagels is a Dud. Also, cutting them with the sawing knife moving towards your palm. This is really stupid, but I’ve heard it’s been done.
Thanks to the folks who checked in before this game became something you’d flush and follow with one of those blue crapper cleaners. sandwiches had what’s really the best summary of this snoozer:
“The Twins did the thing that was mentioned about the clock striking midnight, pumpkin, Cinderella, blah blah blah. Paddack pooped his pants, defense sucked, offense couldn’t do anything against a freshie per usual, wetting their pants in the progress. Willi Castro and Royce Lewis went yard as if the team were in minute bouts of a fever dream about possibly winning but the rest of the team slept soundly as the Astros rode off into the night on their space rockets or whatever their City Connect softball uniforms say.
Comments of the game go to everyone who took the time out of their precious life to make remarks about this crap of a game – except Joel and Jeff because they haven’t paid the site alimony for the past 5 years because of ‘hardships due to the lack of fresh E.T. movies under the new AI regime’, whatever that may mean.
The Twins and Astros face off again tomorrow, with the Twins trotting out a quote-unquote starting pitcher that’s expected to go three innings while the bullpen either changes the pitcher’s diaper or makes a mess in their own.”
I wouldn’t have used so many excretory-themed metaphors, except I realize I kinda did about blue crapper cleaners. So, I have also used “blue humor.” You’ll live!
Finally, to the critic who gave me crap for a “broken link” last week: I am imperfect, and constructive criticism is always welcome. But bold text is not, always, a link. This is bold text; this is a link. I realize they look the same, most of the time; I wish that links were always blue, like they used to be! Alas, I am not in charge of the internet. Not yet.