(Base)ball-gagged/Meltdown in Motown

Remember that extremely unplesant scene in Pulp Fiction when the two rednecks take certain, ahem, "liberties" with Ving Rhames character? Well the Minnesota Twins re-enacted it on a baseball diamond in Detroit last night, and the sequel was even more horrible to watch than the first time around. Scott Baker played the role of Maynard in this analogy, creating the situation that allowed it to happen, the umpires were Zed, actually doing the ****ing, and Marcellus Wallace? Alas, fellow Twins fans, that was you and I; hopefully you're not having trouble sitting down this morning.

Now I know I need to throw out the caveats of "long season", "can't win them all", "can still win the series", etc, but I'm not wired that way. Keeping an even keel through the storms of a baseball season is what's required to stay focused and win a title, even the best teams lose 60-70 games, so if you're going to lose your mind every time it doesn't go your way, you'll never make it through. But I'm not on a ship, I'm on a roller coaster, and fortunately, success or failure doesn't hinge on my personal conduct, so let the meltdown begin!

Game 21 of 162 was only one loss in the L column, but will be one that is remembered all season. The last two years have taught us every game counts, and when we're sitting one game up with one to play in September, April 28th will be a date that lives in infamy. Losing, although unpleasant, is acceptable; it can (and has repeatedly) happened. But losing by 5 after leading by 5, with your starting pitcher becoming so abjectly horrible you begin to wonder if he's wagering against the team, is not an option. Sure they were jobbed by the umps, but the game should've never reached a point where the umps were allowed to impact the outcome.

I'm talking to you Scott Baker, at this point I would have no problem letting you chuck a baseball at my chest from 20 feet, ala Bull Durham, cause there ain't no way I'm getting hit. One more outing like that and I start petitioning for Scott Baker D-Cell Battery Night, where you stand on the mound solo and each fan gets one chance to loosen a couple of your fillings with a well-placed Duracell. Better hope the big kid in row 3 above the dugout isn't better at hitting his spots than you are.