Cool Breeze, Eyes Closed (Twins 1 White Sox 12 - Game 149)

After getting our house Halloween ready the night before, I came home to a perfectly decorated house. The smell of fall blew through the windows and hung in the air.

It covered the stench of what Liam Hendriks was doing on the mound in Chicago. The Great Dane agreed with me.

If anyone's excited to see the Twins lose, it's Stella the Great Dane. She was traumatized when I jumped up and stomped around the living room after Kubel won the game with a cycle-completing home run. She was mortified when Liriano got the no-no and I picked her up and spun her in a circle.

Crisp fall weather is great for Great Danes, but a boring season for the Twins is pretty good, too.

The Mermaids Aren't Singing (Twins 3 White Sox 4 - Game 150)

When I drove past Target Field tonight, I knew I was done going to games for the year. The thought didn't smack me across the face, but it did sour in my gut.

Two games at Target Field. The fewest number of games I've attended in years. If we're tallying the stats, I haven't bought a Twins shirt this year, either.

I'm a fool with my money, but the Twins aren't getting into my pocketbook like they used to. Either I'm growing up or they're losing their touch.

Twins lost again, as if defying me to care.

Daydream Disbelief (Twins 4 White Sox 3 - Game 151)

The game came and went with a victory while my wife and I were negotiating doctor time.

It's funny how no one complains about stat-heads in medicine. In fact, doctors really are better off keeping their gut instincts to themselves. We may want them to be brave and occasionally take chances, but we need them grounded in reality.

Today, I kept wondering what it'd be like if our doctor was a soured baseball scout or embittered baseball writer. Don't think I'd like it.

Glen Perkins saved yet another game, by the way. Right now, he's his own winning season.