Winter lingers on here in the Twin Cities. With nine inches of snow falling in our yard on the 18th. Heavy, wet, back-breaking snow. Startlingly white. Blindingly so.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” I said to my mother, on the phone, up in Hibbing.
“No,” she replied. “It’s ugly as hell.”
Well, they have gotten a bit more snow than us this year. Hang in there mom. Soon it will be June.
Ahhh, but we still have baseball. And the Twins have won two in a row. They got rained out of a game with the Mets, missed a game with the Angels because of snow/rain, then got chilled out of last night’s game in Chicago, but now they’re playing an afternoon game in Chicago, looking to make it 3 in a row, and get back to .500. Another afternoon game tomorrow in Chicago as well.
And I’m still reading Ball Four. Which I’m neglecting to spend time on, for a variety of baseball and non-baseball reasons.
I’m up to August 2nd, 1969. Jim is doing pretty well with the knuckleball, though when he finally got to start a game the KB abandoned him and he got rocked.
In addition, the Pilots’ season is headed south, as you might expect for an expansion team. They’ve just gone through a rough patch, and they’ve got another stretch against the East Division clubs coming up which, as you can see, will not go well for them.
Twins win! Three and a row, and back to .500, and — at last — a decent game from Worley. And all’s right with the world.