Division Champs

October 2nd, 2006

I would never claim that I knew the Twins would win the division in the final minutes of the season. That would be dishonest. But it was clear that something changed in the third inning of yesterday’s game at the Dome: the two “screamers” in our section decided to pick up and move.

The screamers were two young women with large sunglasses balanced on the bills of their pink Twins caps and plastic Mike’s Hard Lemonade empties littered about their persons. They would shriek at 45-second intervals — more frequently when Joe Mauer batted. It was deafening and everyone in a 25-fan radius was bothered by their deliberate disruption. And being Minnesotans, no one told them to shut up. Dirty looks, yes. Direct action, no.

They screamed for three straight innings. This ballgame — the most important game of the season, it was clear from the start — appeared to be ruined.

And then — they simply got up and left.

I’ll admit now to some a selfish thought: “I don’t care how this game turns out. I’m just so glad they left, and I can sit here and dab away the blood pouring out of my ears.” In light of the amazing baseball twists-and-turns that were to follow, I feel somewhat ashamed.

I am not ashamed that I still hope those fans were struck by a luxury party bus upon their exit from the Dome.

Yesterday was the single most amazing baseball moment that I’ve experienced in person. (This is a milestone I have kept updating throughout this season, mind you.) It was more than the game. Standing there in the upper deck of the Dome, watching Twins players dive into the left field stands full of (appropriately) screaming fans still in disbelief, it was clear: the baseball universe is a mysterious place. It cannot be understood. Some set of random circumstances aligned to give Joe Mauer with the AL batting title, to energize the lowly Royals to make up six runs against the powerful Tigers, and to bless the Twins with a home-field advantage in the ALDS. These things don’t make sense, but we must accept them.

I called my Dad once I exited the Dome. He did not doubt the Twins for a moment this season, often explaining away the team’s early (and undeniable) badness with wild conspiracy theories among the umpires. “We did it!” I shouted to him as I walked through the parking lot.