In addition to being a RandBall contributor, Stensation works under our strict control on the high school sports team. Perhaps this is a sign that we need to dial things down just a little on the work intensity. (Remember, this comes on the heels of our Talance Sawyer dream). Stensation?

Am I thinking about work too much? Perhaps it’s because this is among the best times of the year for a sports fan, what with baseball playoffs on the horizon, NFL, college and high school football well into swing and the NHL and NBA about to open camp. Or am I reading RandBall too much, lamenting on his dream about covering the Twin Cities sports market while living in the quick-paced world that is NYC? Maybe I’m just nuts. Whatever the reason, the following* is a synopsis of a dream I had a few nights back:

The Scene: County Stadium — Milwaukee, Wisconsin (which, mind you, is now a parking lot).

The Situation: I, Stensation, am the only Star Tribune employee available to cover Game 7 of the World Series between the Twins and Brewers. Where’s Rand? Where’s LENIII and Joe C? Where’s Reusse? Where’s Sid? Heck, if this is a dream sequence, where’s Barreiro? Who knows. To that end, it is my job to write the game story, the sidebar story, the columns, the insider notes and the full notebook for the Newspaper of the Twin Cities. Yes, Twin Cities sports readers depend on me! Flabbergasted at all this work, I spend far too much time in the press box and not nearly enough on the field. By the time I get my act together after the game (I have no clue who wins, by the way) I have but one source for my umpteen stories: The Twins’ bat boy. He’s not worth a [redacted] for anything worthwhile. So in a complete panic I look wherever I can for information.

The Solution: I find a door adjacent to the Brewers’ club house. Through there, the Green Bay Packers are getting set to play a game. In the far corner, I find the Green and Gold’s quarterback — none other than Michael Rand (wearing, for whatever reason, No. 3. And, I guess, answering why he was unavailable to write this particular day). From an information standpoint, he is worthless. He’s in the zone, of course, and does not want to talk baseball. I am, thus, screwed.

The Sanity: At this point, I vaguely remember looking to a row of jock straps hanging from the ceiling of the Packers’ locker room. And (I kid you not) shortly after waking up in a sweat-filled panic. I’ve never been more relieved that my work day is still 5+ hours from beginning. And that a Twins/Brewers World Series is a far-fetched idea. Although, how cool would it be to see CC back facing Mauer and Morneau in a game that really mattered?

* Proprietor laughed hysterically upon hearing this story.

So, um:

1) Feel free to deconstruct that one.

2) Any strange dreams you’d care to share? (Just keep on walking, Joker. No need to stop here).

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