Mojo, Eh?

The Twins haven't done well with bases loaded this season, and that's putting it mildly. And Justin Morneau, our lone Canuck, hasn't been doing so well at the plate this season...and that's putting it mildly.

So when Justin came up in the bottom of the eighth for his first and only at-bat of the evening with the bases loaded, two out and the Twins clinging to a 3-2 lead, something had to be done. Mojo had to be created, and quickly!

Confession time: I have, for reasons I won't go into here, a small and selective collection of stuffed moose (Toys! Not real moose! Are you mad?! Who could kill a moose?). The latest addition to the collection is a small moose in a Twins jersey who was duly christened Cordel Justin-Moose.

I reached into my game bag, pulled out Cordel Justin-Moose, pointed his velvety nose in the direction of the plate and said "Justin, I want you to hit that ball many, many moose-antlers away."

And he did. Inspired by the beady gaze of my plush little friend, Morneau ignored his aching elbow and his miniscule, soul-crushing batting average and launched the first pitch he saw into the upper deck for his first career grand slam.

If, in future, you should happen to be at the Dome and look around during a Morneau at-bat to see an otherwise ordinary woman desperately clutching a stuffed moose and muttering in the general direction of home plate, remember the mojo. Eh?


Cordel Justin-Moose recounts his triumph to a rapt Tolie at home after the game.