Thanks to Apple TV, my family got to watch a Twins game for a change. As luck would have it, we got a good one. The Twins crushed the Rays nine to four. Dingers abounded. I silenced my yelps of delight so my daughter would stay asleep.

I enjoyed seeing some of the players I’d only heard about on the radio. I’m not sure I knew what Pagan or Larnach looked like. Watching Buxton hit a home run is a lot more fun than just hearing about it. He enjoys every second of his trot around the bases. I didn’t even know that Joe Smith was a sub-mariner.

Speaking of things I didn’t know – Nobody told me the “Ray” in “Tampa Bay Rays” referred to a ray of sunlight. A harmless, pleasant, butterflies and tweety-birds ray of sunshine. I mean, they try to have it stand for the rays they keep in a pen, too, but is that so much better? To have your mascot be an animal so docile and sweet children can pet it? These used to be DEVIL Rays! That sounds like something malevolent from the sea! Something to fear! Not a little burst of sunlight. Why don’t they just start singing “You Are My Sunshine” instead of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game?”

Before you say it, I realize the Twins do not exactly sound threatening. Seriously, though, take a good look at Minnie and Paul. They would mess you up if they wanted to. They are big, burly men with bats. And we have a bear. TC may be friendly, but he’s still a bear. You don’t see the Minnesota Twins putting a BEAR petting zoo out in the outfield bleachers.

The Twins have to be tough from here on out. Have you seen what we’re putting on the mound these days? If the Twins let a guy go for a bucket of balls for an off-season trade, that bucket of balls would probably be pitching a game right about now. It’s bad. We need to get some of our better pitchers off the IL. Soon. It seems like the Twins need to score seven runs a night if they want to win. That’s a lot of pressure on our offense.

Next up is a midnight series at Seattle. I remember when starting something at 9 PM seemed like a fine thing to do on a week day. Now I’m over forty with a kid. Nothing holy can happen after 9 PM.