Glib

I tell you, I have had the most abominable case of writer's block the last couple of weeks. I don't think I could have managed the rent check if I'd needed to fill that out. And blogging? Pffft. Out of the freakin' question.

Nothing loosens the proverbial tongue like a sweep of the Whine Sox though, eh? Now there was a thing of beauty, what with the BOOM! And the STRIKE THREE! all over the place.

And how about Jason Bartlett, huh? (Ignore that smacking sound, it's just me hitting TK across the nose with a rolled-up newspaper.) Can that kid play or what? He hits! He fields! He runs! After the last five years or so, did anyone in Twinsland still remember that shorstops were supposed to do that?

Speaking of blindingly obvious roster moves, Pat Neshek's been a great addition to the bullpen. I love watching the hitters after they see their very first Neshek pitch. Batters of all nationalities and levels of experience invariably make the exact same face, the one that looks remarkably like Wile E. Coyote when he has that split second to wonder why he's suddenly running on thin air.

Meanwhile, Jason Tyner is the clear winner of this month's AL Award for Best Performance by a Guy Who Really Quite Desperately Wants to Stay in the Majors. Good job!

Oh, and one more thing. I'd like to give a big ol' round of applause to Michael Cuddyer for wearing his socks the right way on Sunday. Ya looked good, Cuddy.