I want to extend a personal thank you to the Cleveland Indians for sweeping the Twins and finally shoveling the last bit of earth on a team that has actually long been dead and buried in a figurative sense. The Twins have been dead men walking for at least a month and it is with more a sense of relief than grief that I greet the official news of their demise.
The inability of the Tribe or the Tigers to put the Twins out of their misery (thus prolonging our suffering) was frustrating and dangerous. It gave rise to delusions among some Twins faithful that this pathetic collection of weak-hitting sad sacks actually had (or in any way deserved) a shot at making the playoffs. We suffer no more.
The way the last two games concluded were fitting ends to a Lost Season. Justin Morneau--one of the few legitimate major league batters in the lineup--resting the bat on his shoulder as he watched strike three sail by on with two outs and the tying run on second in the ninth on Tuesday night. Last night, with the Twins again trailing by a run in the ninth, Jason Tyner opens with a single. Nick Punto--vying to become the Mario Mendoza of the 21st Century--attempts to sacrifice Tyner over to second and pops up to the catcher. He can't hit and he can't bunt. Why is this man wearing a major league baseball uniform? One batter and one double play later and it was over. The game and the season.
Now, I can enjoy baseball once again.
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