Since Mauer's having a good year, I suppose he had to find other ways to fill his column inches.
I kind of wish I had a subscription so I could cancel it.
Glen Perkins retired?
I was baffled by that too.
Glen Perkins' weight tore his labrum & rotator cuff?
He doesn't even mention the Basement. Loser.
He did. But still a loser.
I've had my problems with Gleeman* and now choose to ignore him, but I don't like seeing him treated this way. I hope Poulty Man gets some serious comeuppance for this.
* Unless I'm mistaken, Gleeman is now the Editor-in-Chief of some worthless blog called Baseball Prospectus, which has (of course) never featured writing by any real journalists and certainly isn't accredited by the BBWAA. You know, like the esteemed litter box liner employing Poultry Man.
Gleeman sticks a lot more to baseball than he did in the bad old days so I've found him enjoyable again.
I have to say if the quip "Jabba the Stat" wasn't so dang mean, I would've smiled at the creativity.
It's sooooo mean.
What's impressive, though, is that poultry dick-fart here doesn't realize that the backlash isn't entirely because of this article. It's because of his reputation of being a jack ass.
Not here
Rochester is in a rain dealy. So is their rival, Lehigh Valley.
Elizabethton's game at Greeneville has started. No score through one inning.
Unfortunately, I have to meet with people tonight and so will not be able to follow these games as they happen. You can follow them yourselves, or you can read about them tomorrow in Minor Details.
But I can tell you that J. J. Robinson has hit a home run in the second to give the Twins a 1-0 lead.
Greeneville hits a home run in the bottom of the second to tie it 1-1. And now I really am leaving.
You guys, Sawks-Yanquis on the 4ltr. What are the odds of that?
My cat died today. It was completely unexpected. She was just eight years old and, I had thought, completely healthy. I found her laying in the basement, I thought she was just sleeping. I'm not taking it well at all.
My wife found Abby at her mom's in a heating vent, part of a litter from a barn cat. I was on green bay at a bowling tournament and said it was ok. I fed her from a bottle until she was able to eat solid foods, so we had a very strong bond. Most nights, she would sleep on my chest, but not until she headbutted me for half an hour in hopes I would stroke her back. I'm going to miss her dearly.
I'm sorry, man. They find little niches in our heart and take a little piece of it when they leave us. You gave her the best life she could've asked for, had she the words. Sounds like she had her own way of telling you how much you meant to her.
What CH said. The furbabies take a piece of our hearts.
Oh, man, that's terrible.
Thanks, fellas. She really meant the world to me, even though I know she wouldn't live forever. What's really hard is how unexpected it was. I found some cotton from a pillow by her mouth, so I don't know if she choked or if she was sick. Both possibilities suck and I don't know which one would help me get over it easier. I'm really having a hard time with this, too be perfectly honest.
What I think I'll do is drink a bunch tonight and play some video games until three in the morning. Maybe tomorrow I can move on.
I'd never had a cat until I befriended the scared little female Mrs. Hayes had rescued from a bad situation shortly before we met. Her other cat, a big male, didn't appreciate her presence and would whup on her and try to corner her. The little girl, barely five pounds, had been abused by a male in her old living arrangement, and it took a lot of coaxing & trust-building to get her to open up to me. Once she did, it was like we were meant for one another, or that we recognized something in one another. She loved sitting on my lap or shoulders, giving headbutts, and she slept under my arm every night, paws under my chin. That little cat got me through four years of readjustment before she got sick. Saying goodbye was very hard, and I still miss her something fierce seven years later.
FanGraphs odds: 47.7% (up 6%)
Post Season Satisfaction Value (August 31):
Twins win: 50%
Angels win: 0%
Orioles lose: 10%
Yankees win: 0%
Mariners win: 0%
Indians win: 0%:
---------------------
60% statisfaction
As of today, the Twins have used 35 pitchers. Here is Giminez's rankings:
Games: 22nd
ERA: 26th
FIP: 22nd
WHIP: 14th
BB/9: 1st
*Gimenez
So, how does he do in run support? Not good, I'm guessing
Well, this sucks. RIP Walter Becker.
Damn
Whoa, Souhan goes off on bloggers, including a not so veiled reference to Gleemans weight.
http://www.startribune.com/on-minnesota-twins-and-cowardly-trolls/442596783/
Since Mauer's having a good year, I suppose he had to find other ways to fill his column inches.
I kind of wish I had a subscription so I could cancel it.
Glen Perkins retired?
I was baffled by that too.
Glen Perkins' weight tore his labrum & rotator cuff?
He doesn't even mention the Basement. Loser.
He did. But still a loser.
I've had my problems with Gleeman* and now choose to ignore him, but I don't like seeing him treated this way. I hope Poulty Man gets some serious comeuppance for this.
* Unless I'm mistaken, Gleeman is now the Editor-in-Chief of some worthless blog called Baseball Prospectus, which has (of course) never featured writing by any real journalists and certainly isn't accredited by the BBWAA. You know, like the esteemed litter box liner employing Poultry Man.
Gleeman sticks a lot more to baseball than he did in the bad old days so I've found him enjoyable again.
I have to say if the quip "Jabba the Stat" wasn't so dang mean, I would've smiled at the creativity.
It's sooooo mean.
What's impressive, though, is that poultry dick-fart here doesn't realize that the backlash isn't entirely because of this article. It's because of his reputation of being a jack ass.
Not here
Rochester is in a rain dealy. So is their rival, Lehigh Valley.
Elizabethton's game at Greeneville has started. No score through one inning.
Unfortunately, I have to meet with people tonight and so will not be able to follow these games as they happen. You can follow them yourselves, or you can read about them tomorrow in Minor Details.
But I can tell you that J. J. Robinson has hit a home run in the second to give the Twins a 1-0 lead.
Greeneville hits a home run in the bottom of the second to tie it 1-1. And now I really am leaving.
You guys, Sawks-Yanquis on the 4ltr. What are the odds of that?
My cat died today. It was completely unexpected. She was just eight years old and, I had thought, completely healthy. I found her laying in the basement, I thought she was just sleeping. I'm not taking it well at all.
My wife found Abby at her mom's in a heating vent, part of a litter from a barn cat. I was on green bay at a bowling tournament and said it was ok. I fed her from a bottle until she was able to eat solid foods, so we had a very strong bond. Most nights, she would sleep on my chest, but not until she headbutted me for half an hour in hopes I would stroke her back. I'm going to miss her dearly.
I'm sorry, man. They find little niches in our heart and take a little piece of it when they leave us. You gave her the best life she could've asked for, had she the words. Sounds like she had her own way of telling you how much you meant to her.
What CH said. The furbabies take a piece of our hearts.
Oh, man, that's terrible.
Thanks, fellas. She really meant the world to me, even though I know she wouldn't live forever. What's really hard is how unexpected it was. I found some cotton from a pillow by her mouth, so I don't know if she choked or if she was sick. Both possibilities suck and I don't know which one would help me get over it easier. I'm really having a hard time with this, too be perfectly honest.
What I think I'll do is drink a bunch tonight and play some video games until three in the morning. Maybe tomorrow I can move on.
I'd never had a cat until I befriended the scared little female Mrs. Hayes had rescued from a bad situation shortly before we met. Her other cat, a big male, didn't appreciate her presence and would whup on her and try to corner her. The little girl, barely five pounds, had been abused by a male in her old living arrangement, and it took a lot of coaxing & trust-building to get her to open up to me. Once she did, it was like we were meant for one another, or that we recognized something in one another. She loved sitting on my lap or shoulders, giving headbutts, and she slept under my arm every night, paws under my chin. That little cat got me through four years of readjustment before she got sick. Saying goodbye was very hard, and I still miss her something fierce seven years later.
You take all the time you need, man.