The Last Days of My Beautiful Twins Zubaz

Do I wear them expecting they’ll bring me closer to the Minnesota Twins as I slumber? Absolutely. Pajamas should always be a bridge to pleasant dreams.

In truth, I often dream of going to Twins games. Usually I’m just wandering Target Field, trying to meet up with some group of people I’m supposed to join at the game. Once, despite being in my early forties, I dreamed I was the first runner-up to be the Twins ball boy. They asked me to field a grounder and toss the ball to the coach. When I failed as miserably as I would while I was awake, the other dude got the job.

I actually made the team one evening, but it was a nightmare. Sure, I was excited to be a Minnesota Twin. But I also knew I suck at playing baseball. In my dream, I was taking up a roster spot with no skill. The dilemma - do I tell Coach I shouldn’t be there or wait until he figures it out and drink in the joy of baseball?

Maybe my Twins Zubaz are like a dreamcatcher in reverse, letting out the best parts of baseball dreams and sealing in the existential doom of regular living.

Whether or not your dreams come true, it’s fun to play pretend you’re on the team. If you’ve got your own version of my Twins Zubaz, share some details in the comments. How far do you go? Some nights, I break out the Twins socks and a TC t-shirt and when I wake up, I’m still a guy in his early forties. A guy in his forties with the smile of a goofy twelve-year-old.

My wife will probably kill the Zubaz when I’m not looking. They’re one hole away from being invisible and she preys on weak and wounded clothing. When that day comes, I’ll have to get a new pair immediately. The new pair won’t be as soft and worn-in. They’ll get into game shape in no time, though. It’s spring training for sleep slacks, too.

Pleasant dreams, Twins Territory.