I think Twins magic begins with a car radio, a commute of erratic, skidding traffic, and staring at the sun while waiting for red lights.

Returning to baseball life is a greater gift to the fans living in places where the offseason is covered in snow and loneliness.

When the bat cracks and the crowd cheers, we know the small city filled with red- and blue-clad fans will be born around Target Field. There will be beer, hugs, and shouting.

At that moment, the shouting comes from the guy in the car beside you. You can't heart it because his windows are up and the whole world feels warm because it's just barely not freezing.

The first weeks the city of Twins Territory comes alive, the sidewalks will seem enormous without child-sized mountains of snow. People will chuckle when they remember what sandals people wore last year. Conversations will start on the street and continue, because no one is worried about frostbite.

The red light changes. The game on the radio continues. A chunk of snow falls off of the car in front of you.

If you couldn't hear the baseball on the radio, you wouldn't believe it was ever coming back.

This has been one crummy February, and this slowness of this thaw is killing me. You're right - it's hard to imagine that baseball is mere weeks away.