Originally posted at k-bro's baseball blog

I was listening to the news Sunday night as I was getting ready for bed, and between brushing my teeth and putting moisturizer around my eyes, I heard the sports guy talking about how glum the Twins clubhouse is lately. He said something about the mood there being the worse its ever been and that everyone is just demoralized.

It's hard to blame them. All this losing is hard for me to take sitting here in my comfy living room; I can't imagine what it's like for the guys who actually want to take pride in their profession.

I imagine that they're all cranky and secretly trying to figure out ways to throw stuff at each other. The hitters are thinking mean thoughts about the pitchers, and the pitchers are thinking mean thoughts about the defenders. All these repressed feelings are likely to cause a lot of clinched jaws and stress headaches.

Also factor in this awful heat. These guys are wearing polyester clothes (with long pants, undershirts, and socks) and doing physical activity in air that feels like nacho cheese in a crock pot. Ick.

These guys need something to cheer them up right quick. The fans won't have any fun unless the players have some fun.

I propose that we line up all the guys out in the outfield, arm each one with a super-soaker squirt gun and a bucket of water balloons, and tell them to have at it. Francisco Liriano can nail Denard Span and Josh Willingham can shoot Brian Duensing to get things going, and there you have it. Aggressions will be released. Tempers, and bodies, will be cooled. Fun will be had. Outfield grass will be watered. Win win. They should sell tickets; I'd buy one.

Or...they could do what they did Monday night and score seven runs in the first inning of a game that counts. But, like, every day.