By La Velle
The 4:45 a.m. alarm did me a lot of good this morning. My flight to New York has been delayed. So I’ll hit the ground in the Big Apple around 2:15 and head straight for Yankee Stadium.
ESPN reported that the Twins landed at 3:05 a.m. eastern time. I’m sure most of them will be tired, buzzed from beer and champagne – but running on adrenaline.
Before the game began, I wondered to co-workers about how much celebrating the winner of the game could get away with. The Twins didn’t hold much back. The game ended about 8:45. They had the clubhouse soaked about 20 minutes later.
My assignment was to get notes for the notebook and write a Joe Mauer story, since he was so amped for the game that he nearly slid into left field in the first and nearly fell on his face rounding first later in the game. Got my stuff, headed back upstairs and filed my stories for the first edition at 9:45 p.m.
I wasn’t satisfied with my Mauer story and wanted to get a couple fresher notes in the notebook. So I went back down to the clubhouse at 10:10 – nearly 90 minutes after Casilla’s game-winner. Half the team had hit the showers. The other half were still celebrating.
I got through my first trip to the clubhouse fairly well. The return trip didn’t go so well.
“Hey! Somebody is dry!” Justin Morneau yelled.
Someone grabbed me from behind, I ducked, then got four beers poured on me. My head was down so I didn’t see the culprits. I did hear Delmon Young’s voice. I ended up getting the quote from Morneau that I wanted, so I guess the tradeoff worked out.
Five division titles since 2002. I’ve avoided getting crushed like that most of the time. Jacque Jones got me good in 2002, yelling, “that’s what you get for saying I couldn’t hit lefties!” while pouring two cans of beer on me. Kenny Rogers got me pretty good in 2003 but kept telling me how great a guy I was. Then he wouldn’t speak to me a week later because he was ticked about the Twins not starting him in the postseason against the Yankees.
This was the first time I was attacked by a horde of beer-wielding, baseball-playing revelers.
The Point of this Entry
What I wanted to throw up for discussion – before the Twins take on the Yankees – is if last night was the best baseball game in Twins history. We tend to get drunk on the moment and the emotion can distort our thinking.
But national media types this morning are still raving about last night. I wasn’t here to watch Puckett in Game 6. I wasn’t here to watch Jack Morris take the mound for the 10th inning. Twins fans would know a little better than me if last night topped them all.
What say you?
That’s all for now. Joe C. will be the first to arrive in New York, and I’ll check in once I get organized.
What a night. Unreal.