If you're not into satire, or if you're easily angered by talk of Minnesota Nice, please don't read this. All others, please enjoy:

Yup, you betcha! Gardy is back, right where he should be. Sure, it took me awhile to understand it, but that’s just because I’ve been spending too much time watching other “coastal” teams like the As and Rays. That’s a big no-no. I need to keep my attention at home, right where my folks always told me to keep it.

You see, from a true Minnesotan’s perspective, bringing back Gardy makes all kinds of sense. In fact, in Minnesota, the word "Gardy" actually means manager. You can hear it in the halls of some of Minnesota’s top companies: "I’ve gotta go see my Gardy for my annual performance review.” And you can hear the response from coworkers in their cubes as he walks down the hall “Go on! Get after it!” Why confuse the good people of Minnesota by forcing them to think about another word for manager, like "Molitor," or "Glynn," or … "Martinez" (hey, let’s not go crazy now).

Sure, he’s had some bad seasons, but in Minnesota, “bad” and “season” are our two most commonly used words. Besides, Minnesota is the land of misplaced optimism and 10,000 chances. What else could explain such odd cultural phrases as, say, Vikings playoff excitement or Timberwolves draft party? Not successful? Don’t worry so much. In Minnesota, we know all too well that getting to the big games and enjoying the limelight are overrated anyway. Just ask Walter Mondale or Tim Pawlenty.

Besides, we’re a health conscious state, and the proud home of the Mayo Clinic. Turns out, we learned some pretty tough lessons with our last run of baseball success (or should I say “excess”?). The playoff series of 1987 and 1991 left countless numbers of our people exhausted, hoarse and with at least temporary hearing loss. Productivity at workplaces and schools suffered, and to make matters worse, we willfully polluted our beautiful downtown streets with pounds and pounds of shredded paper landfill. Some of our young people even stayed up past 10:00pm! Is that really the way we want to live in this state? I don’t think so. And don’t forget, we don’t even have a roof on our home park anymore. Playoff baseball would just let October’s deadly chill sink into the lungs of every single fan at Target Field, as it did for two games in 2010. Fortunately, the resigning of Gardy is a clear statement from management that this should never happen again.

And really, we HAD to resign Gardenhire. After all, not extending his contract after it had ended is practically the same thing as firing the poor guy, and that’s just a place none of us wanted to go. So hurtful! Besides, it’d clearly be wrong to treat a southern guest and Oklahoma native so callously, particularly one who likes fishing our lakes. Minnesota nice!

Now some say that there is a wave of talented immigrant Latino ballplayers on their way up, and I say who better than Gardy to anglicize their names with fun pronunciations and a y-sound at the end? Besides, we need somebody to assist them with cultural acclimation, and it’s reassuring to know that, even if J.O. Berrios (that’s kind of flashy -- can we just call him “Joey”?) isn’t entirely fluent, he’ll still know how to say “I threw the living fire out of the ball” and “they just got after it more than we did” in perfect English. And not to worry, if it turns out that this new crop of players can’t adapt to the Twins Way (hallowed be that phrase), we can always trade them in for utility infielders and established closers.

So, dontcha know, where once I was lost, now I am found. Terry Ryan, whose stern presence and no-nonsense talk reminds us all that, after all, baseball isn’t supposed to be fun, made the right choice. Bringing Ron Gardenhire back after zero league pennants and three straight 90+ loss seasons may seem odd to outsiders, but it’s fundamentally, exclusively, quintessentially Minnesotan.