"Let us go forth a while, and get better air in our lungs. Let us leave our closed rooms...
The game of ball is glorious."

--Walt Whitman

Friday, May 11, 2007

An Open Letter to Johan Santana

Johan, my (lamentably platonic) love, do me a favor.

Please be muy en fuego tonight.

The Tigers are coming to town, and they are very much en fuego themselves. It would be tough to beat them under the best of circumstances, but these are not the best of circumstances, are they, Johan?

Because the Twins are not en fuego. The Twins are not even en tepid. They are hitting like a municipal summer team after Bob who works at the liquor store treats the boys to a keg before the game. And that's against righties. Against lefties, they are hitting like blindfolded kindergarteners trying for a piƱata.

And tonight they will be facing Mike Maroth, who is indeed a lefty. We could save a lot of heartache and prime Friday drinking time by skipping the bottom of innings 1-6.

It gets worse. For your en-fuego-ness (should you choose to exercise it) will be pitted not only against the sizzling bats of Detroit, but also against the boneheaded adventures of your own team. There is not just poor hitting in Twinsland, Johan, you know this. In order to counteract the few hits that do somehow squeak through cracks in the wall of ineptitude, the boys have taken to making baserunning mistakes that would get a twelve year old kicked out of Little League. Mistakes like advancing to third on a grounder to third. I am sure you also experience the instant throbbing at the temples that witnessing such blunders gives me.

But take an ibuprofen, Johan, and soldier on! For tonight I bring with me to the Dome a friend who is not so much a baseball fan. Mostly I think she just wants a night away from the kids. But you see, I have an agenda. Like the homosexual agenda, only not so well decorated. I hope to turn my friend into a baseball fan, and through her, her children.

However, given the exceptional suckitude of the Twins offense, you are my only hope of opening her eyes to the wonder and majesty of baseball. The wonder and majesty of you, Johan CyTana.

You don't have to do it for me. You don't even have to do it for her. But do it for her two adorable little boys, who would look ever so cute in tiny Twins gear. Do it for the children, Johan.

Be en fuego.



2 rejoinders:

H sounded off...


frightwig sounded off...

Well, Johan was good. But the offense and bullpen wasted his effort.

I hope you and your friend had a good time, so she might come back to the ballpark, anyway.