Yankees, Twins. You know how this ends

So odd. The Twins have transformed from being perhaps the most dominant home team in baseball postseason history to one of the worst the game's ever seen. In 1987 and 1991 the Twins went 11-1 in the Metrodome during the postseason, including 8-0 in the World Series. People waved Homer Hankies in celebration, but now use them to wipe away the tears from their distraught child's face. After tonight's game, the Twins have now lost an absurd 10 games in a row at home, eight in the Dome and two at Target Field. The old Met Stadium is spinning in its mall grave.

Inside and outside, under a teflon roof and natural skies, against Angels, Athletics and Yankees, in close games and routs, the Twins have lost in every possible manner. They've lost with Pierzynski behind the plate and with Mauer, with Santana on the mound and Pavano. A battalion of relief pitchers have squandered leads and a horde of hitters have left men in scoring position. They've had injured pitchers - Liriano in 2006 - and injured hitters: Morneau last season and this year. Ron Gardenhire remains the one constant. Poor Gardy. At this point it might be a good idea if he just decides before each game to get tossed in the sixth or seventh inning, because nothing good ever happens after that. They're a hell of a playoff team for five innings. If they played Little League, the Twins would be the Chinese Taipei of Major League Baseball.

At this point, my friends in New York take pity on the Twins. No one hates the Twins. What's the point? If they could, these Yankee fans would pin purple "I tried" ribbons on the chests of Twins players and give them a kindly pat on the head while telling them how they "play the game the right way." They'd follow it with a gentle kick to the ass before breaking out into a "Red Sox suck" chant.

Last night I didn't get home until 10 p.m. When I turned on the TV, I was a bit surprised to see the Twins leading 3-0 as the top of the sixth inning began. About an hour later it'd all gone horribly wrong. By the end of tonight's fiasco, I began to wonder if the Twins might be in another new park - say, in 2030, when Target Field is obsolete and the team needs a dome stadium - before they ever win another home playoff game.

It's even possible the impossible has happened: Twins fans might be just as pessimistic and fatalistic about their team's playoff hopes as Vikings fans.

Every Viking fan expects tragedy to strike in the playoffs. Anyone who had a shred of optimism finally learned after last season's NFC title game that to love the purple is to love pain. You could call it masochistic, but no one loves this pain, the torment that comes with Hank Stram's taunts, Larry Csonka's facemask, Old Man Willie's run, Drew Pearson's pushoff, Darrin Nelson's drop, 41-0, Gary Anderson's miss, taking a knee, and 12 men on the field. These moments leave scars. If Randy Moss ignites the team and they storm into the playoffs with a 12-4 record, fans will again go crazy for their favorite helmeted warriors. Yet nearly all of them will look toward the playoffs thinking, What in the hell will go wrong this year? Will it be a Favre interception or a Peterson fumble? Will it be a key holding call or a defensive pass interference? Will Childress screw up or a referee?

Twins fans have reached that point. Perhaps some talked themselves into dreaming of a Twins victory in four games.

"Well, the Yanks' pitching after Sabathia is a bit shaky. And Jeter's struggled all year. And Christ, Lance Berkman? He's done nothing."

But even if they thought those things, they probably didn't verbalize the feelings, for fear that a wiser friend would remind them that the Twins never beat the Yankees in a series and, now, it appears, can never even beat them in a single game. No, now Twins fans watch these games waiting for disaster, in the field or at the plate. Or, as happened tonight, behind the plate. The details change but the story remains the same.

Now the Twins come to New York. Like last year, I'll probably again hear my neighbor cheer as the Yankees end Minnesota's season. Maybe they'll drill Brian Duensing in the first inning or maybe they'll rally against Matt Capps in the ninth.

But perhaps the Twins can pull off the improbable, if not the impossible. Win two in Yankee Stadium. Make the Yankees and their Jeter-jersey-wearing fans think of their own bad memories: the 2004 ALCS. Even this series back at 2. Yeah. It could happen. All they have to do then is win a home playoff game.

Oh.

The Twins, the 1987 World Series and the Berenguer Boogie

The Minnesota Twins will win the AL Central. In the first round of the playoffs they'll face either Tampa or the Yankees. They might beat the Rays in the first round and then lose to the Yankees in the ALCS. Or they'll play the Yankees in the first round and lose there, once again doomed by a heartbreaking rally or a terrible call or some other misfortune that always seems to happen when baseball's peasants face the game's royalty.

But maybe this year will finally be different. Maybe this is the year when the Twins don't blow a ninth-inning lead in Yankee Stadium. Joe Nathan is sidelined, after all. Maybe this is the year a Rally Monkey doesn't infuriate Twins fans. Maybe this is the year homefield advantage doesn't disappear in Game 1, leading to an embarrassing sweep. It's been a decade of regular-season success for the Twins, and a decade of postseason frustration. Since taking a 1-0 lead over the Angels in the 2002 ALCS, the Twins are 2-16 in the playoffs. Maybe this year is different. 

It could all come together for the Twins and their fans, like it did in 1991. Most baseball fans remember the 1991 World Series, which people routinely call one of the best ever and would have already been immortalized on film or in a book if it had involved Boston or New York.

That was the team's second World Series title in five seasons. But to many Twins fans - including me - the 1987 title remains the most memorable. It was the first and came out of nowhere. While the 1991 Twins did famously go from last to first, they at least had a world championship in their recent past. The 1987 Twins only had failure and, at best, mediocrity. They won 71 games in 1986, 77 in 1985, 81 in 1984, and 70 in 1983.

While the 1991 Twins played in one of the best World Series ever, the 1987 Twins are often named one of the worst teams to ever win a World Series. They finished 85-77, which included a horrific 29-52 road record. Fortunately, the team dominated at home, finishing 56-25 in the Metrodome, which would soon be re-christened the Thunderdome. Despite having fewer wins than both Detroit and St. Louis, the Twins possessed homefield advantage in the ALCS and World Series. They went 6-0 at home in the postseason.

The 1987 Twins had a roster filled with larger personalities and bigger guts. Kent Hrbek, Kirby Puckett, Tom Brunansky, Bert Blyleven, Frank Viola. My memories of the 1987 season include watching Joe Niekro toss out an emery board after umpires confronted him over a doctored baseball and Hrbek's "TCF" grand slam in Game 6 of the World Series. Before Game 7, I joined my friend Brandon in our basement, where we pelted a Whitey Herzog's baseball card with darts. By the end, there was nothing left of the White Rat's face. Homer Hankies made their first appearance, as did the decibel-readers that chronicled the ear-splitting nose inside the Dome.

That Twins team had it all and won it all. Same as in 1991. But the 1987 team had something no Twins team has had since: The Berenguer Boogie.   

Berenguer was a revelation in 1987. He went 8-1 in the regular season, then starred in the ALCS against Detroit. He gave up one run in six innings, pitching in four of the five game. Even better - from Twins fans' perspective - he taunted hitters with an over-the-top celebration that included arm-pumping and glove-hitting. With his fastballs, strikeouts and antics, he became a mustached Minnesota folk hero, a Panamanian Paul Bunyan. He became El Gasolino or, if you prefer, Señor Smoke, a possibly politically incorrect nickname embraced by all. His behavior was so unlike Minnesotans. We're meek, nice, passive-aggressive. Berenguer was arrogant, a little mean and simply aggressive.

The Cardinals hammered Berenguer in the World Series. He finished with an ERA of 10.38 in his three appearances, surrendering 10 hits in only 4.1 innings. Didn't matter. His ALCS performance and his personality guaranteed his popularity in Minnesota.

And there was the Berenguer Boogie. Look at that video again. Who is the creative team behind the video? They're jammed into a conference room, brainstorming ideas like they're political operatives plotting a video about a rival candidate that will claim the man fathered a child with an illegal immigrant. They have $25,000 to work with. Fueled by copious amounts of Diet Pepsi and World Series fever, they toss out their dreams for the Boogie.

The intensity: "We're going to kick in six Minnesota Twins leaning in and shouting...something."
The musical genius: "Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duhduh...Senor Smoke."
The sex factor: "Sequined leotards."

Then the finished product. A cameo by Matt Blair, a former linebacker for the Minnesota Vikings whose connection to the 1987 Twins was...well, nothing. The set looks like something leftover from "Thriller," except instead of zombies we have girls with big hair in leotards and Twins in trench coats and blue jeans. And the guy in charge of the smoke machine possessed an overeager trigger finger.

Some of the lyrics prove confusing. "It was the spring of '87 and baseball couldn't know, this was the year of destiny for a team down from the snow." Aren't they a Northern team?

Minnesota shared a connection with the 1987 team that wasn't quite there other years, even during the 1991 title or the success of the past 10 seasons. They were a goofy team that played in a goofier stadium. And they were the first pro team in the state to break through with a title, after four heartbreaks with the Vikings and a World Series defeat. 

When the Twins finished off Detroit in Game 5 of the ALCS, they returned to Minneapolis for a welcome home. Organizers expected a few hundred people to show up. Instead, when the Twins pulled into the Metrodome, 60,000 fans with nothing better to do greeted them. Doug Grow recalls that night here. Berenguer played a starring role in the impromptu celebration, sporting a Berenguer Boogie trench coat, fedora and briefcase. 

This Twins team will have a better record than the 1987 squad. They're fun to watch. Maybe they'll duplicate the success and bring home a title. Or at least win a game in the ALDS. But no matter what happens, they won't be as fun - on the field or off. They have Blyleven in the booth but not on the mound. There's no Kirby or Herbie. No Bruno or The G-Man. There's no Berenguer and certainly no Berenguer Boogie.

But maybe there will be The Thome Two-Step.

Joe Mauer is no Jake Taylor

A six degrees of separation type thing happening tonight. Or something.

Four days ago, character actor James Gammon died at the age of 70. Gammon might have been best known as playing the grouchy Lou Brown, the hard-scrabbled manager who improbably leads the Cleveland Indians to a division title in the classic movie Major League.

Tonight I saw Inception. Tom Berenger has a role in it. Berenger, of course, played grouchy catcher Jake Taylor, the veteran, over-the-hill tough guy whose guts and grittiness help the Indians to the title in Major League.

Tonight the Twins played the hapless Indians.

In the movie, Jake Taylor wins the one-game playoff against the hated Yankees with a surprise bunt down the third-base line. The winning run comes around from second to score.

Tonight, Joe Mauer stepped up to the plate with the score tied and runners on first and second. To the surprise of, well, everyone but the Major League screenwriter, Mauer bunted. He failed. The Indians got out of the inning a batter later. The Indians won the game. The Twins mourned. Their fans cursed. Writers wailed.

If Mauer was indeed inspired by a movie, couldn't it have been The Natural instead?

Now, if the Twins follow the plot to Major League II, next season Mauer will take over as interim manager for an ill Ron Gardenhire and lead the team to the AL pennant. And that really doesn't sound any more improbable than Mauer's bunt.

The ghost of Armen Terzian

I didn't see the Twins game tonight. Perhaps I should have guessed the outcome on the subway ride home, when two youths in Yankees gear boarded, grinning. No one looks that happy getting on a subway. Instead of asking them for the score, I assumed the Yankees won easily, maybe 5-1, or 10-4.

Oh if it only that was so. Turning on ESPN News, it took about 10 seconds for the score to appear: Yankees 4, Twins 3 (11). Damn it. Maybe the Twins were down 3-0 in the ninth, rallied for three off of Rivera and then lost it on a double and a single in extra innings. Yeah, they'd still be down 2-0, but at least it wouldn't have been a crushing defeat.

What's this, Joe Girardi and his horrible haircut are first to talk at the press conference? Ok.

Questioner: Did you see a replay of the Mauer hit?
Girardi: No, I didn't.

I think his eyes darted to the left when he answered. Isn't that a sign someone's lying?

Goes on to say they got a break, it's one of those things that happens. Okay, what's that mean?

Finally place the call to Minnesota, get dad on the line.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said.

He had to because I hadn't seen the game, but by the end I wished he hadn't. I could have gone on with my own story of the ending in my head and not have to deal with the reality, which I then saw in the highlights. Gomez falling down. Nathan. A-Rod. A-Rod. A-Rod. Mauer's double. Uh, Mauer's single. So that's the replay Girardi didn't see (of course he didn't). Bases loaded with nobody out. Seventeen runners left on base. Texeira. 2-0.

The Twins havent' won a playoff game since Game 1 of the 2004 ALDS, when they beat the Yankees in Yankee Stadium. In Game 2 that year, they were set to take control of the series when Nathan allowed a double by...A-Rod in the bottom of the 12th to tie a game the Yankees won a few batters lately. Twins haven't won a playoff game since.

Before I moved to New York, I never cheered for the Yankees. I do now, provided they're not playing the Twins. The city really is alive, though, when the Yankees are playing well. At least that's what I've read. Since I arrived in New York in 2004, the Yankees have won a single playoff series - the one against the Twins. They followed that up by taking a 3-0 lead against the Red Sox, and then...I'm not sure what happened after that. The Bloomberg administration - with an assist from the Steinbrenners and Winston Smith - systematically erased the memories of that series from every New Yorker's head. In 2005 the Angels hammered the Yankees, as did the Tigers in 2006 and the Indians in 2007. Now this year, and they're again facing the Twins. This time it seems the Yankees are again the favorites to win it all, and maybe I'll actually get to experience what life is like in the city during a Yankee title run.

It's surely one of the most crushing losses in Twins history. It's not like they have a lot of postseason disappointment to choose from, aside from the World Series in 1965. That Game 2 in 2004 was probably a more upsetting loss than this one even, since a 2-0 lead was just an inning away. Other losses that come to mind immediately are the 10-0 blown lead in 1984 in the final week against Cleveland - a feat they somehow managed to replicate against Oakland this year - and the game in 1992 when Eric Fox - Eric Fox! - hit a game-winning three-run blast in a crucial July series against the A's. The win put Oakland in a tie with the Twins, who faded the rest of the season.

How crushing was that defeat? It basically ended the 1990s for Minnesota, just three seasons into the decade. The team didn't contend again until 2001 as the Beckers, Cordovas and Stahoviaks of the world took the Twins to the bottom of Major League Baseball, while glaucoma finished off Kirby's career.

When's the last time a referee or umpire's decision had this kind of impact on a loss for a Minnesota sports team? Someone with a better memory than me might have a more recent candidate, but you might have to go back to the 1975 NFL playoffs, when Drew Pearson allegedly pushed off against Nate Wright, leading to the completion of the Hail Mary pass as Dallas upset the Vikings.

As upset as Twins fans surely are with Phil Cuzzi - the umpire who blew the call on Mauer's double, er single - they won't have the chance to enact revenge, like a hooligan did in that 1975 playoff game against Armen Terzian. Moments after the noncall on Pearson, a fan hit Terzian in the head with a whiskey bottle, a horrendous act certainly, but also a throw that's more impressive than anything Tarvaris Jackson's done the last three years. It knocked Terzian unconscious for a brief time.

If this game had been in the Dome, maybe some drunk and disappointed fan would have fired something onto the field. In Yankee Stadium, I'm just surprised the fans didn't carry Cuzzi triumphantly off the field, like the French hauling Lindy around after his famous flight.

The series isn't over, of course, and the Twins have made a habit of improbable comebacks this season so they've still got a chance of taking two in the Dome and returning to the Bronx for a Game 5 victory.

Yeah.

The Metrodome: the best worst stadium in sports

Following a three-game series against Detroit over the weekend, the Twins only have three games left in the Metrodome, barring a postseason appearance. Being that they're now three back, it seems likely that those final games in October against Kansas City will bring an end to the Twins's reign in the beloved-by-none structure.

Any tears that players or fans shed will be as artificial as the turf.

The Vikings remain in the Dome, as do state high school football championships and a few conventions. Some monster truck events still call it home. But it's the end of Major League Baseball.

Most people are overjoyed to see the Twins leaving the Metrodome. Opponents long ago tired of losing fly balls in the roof and falling victim to the stadium's other quirks. Minnesota fans want to enjoy their three months of warm weather. They'll bask in outdoor baseball in June, July, and August. The rest of the time? Well, they'll pack that quilt grandma made them for Christmas and those April series against the Royals played in 35-degree weather will be baseball at its finest. And most miserable.

Sports Illustrated a few weeks ago had a poll of 380 players who were asked to name their favorite stadium. Every park got at least one vote - even Tampa Bay's disgrace of a home. Well, every park but one: the Dome. Not even a pity vote?

That poll is just one more example - maybe the final example we'll get without a postseason appearance - that the Metrodome was the best homefield advantage in baseball. An argument could be made that it was the best homefield advantage in any professional sport. Football fields are all 100 yards long whether the stadium's indoors or out and most good teams are just as capable of winning on the road. In the NBA, recent champs like the Spurs, Celtics and Lakers were nearly as dominant on the road as at home. And as historically important as Fenway and the old Yankee Stadium were, do the Sox and Yanks have great home records because of the stadiums or because they simply have dominant teams?

On Baseball Tonight on Sunday, Peter Gammons noted that the Twins, Yankees, Red Sox and Angels have the best home records over the past five years. But during that time, only the Twins have been below .500 on the road. And they're well-below .500. The others all have winning records away from home. Three of those teams have been among the best teams in baseball since 2004. The Twins, on the other hand, have been a pretty good team, with two postseason appearances in that span. Yet their home record is as good as the big boys'. How much credit goes to a good pitching staff and Joe Mauer and Justin Morneau, and how much credit goes to the Teflon-roofed stadium with bad seating, worse turf and a giant garbage bag in right field?

Watching a game at the Dome really was an average-at-best experience. The hot dogs - unoriginally called Dome Dogs - were decent. But the highlight for fans attending games there - especially during the the disastrous 1990s, aka the Rich Becker Era - was having the powerful air bursts built up by the pressure inside whooooooosh them out the doors. It was three hours of tedium followed by three seconds of bliss and wide-eyed wonder. Could Wrigley offer that experience?

Would the Twins have won two World Series if they had played in an nice, retro outdoor stadium in 1987 and 1991? Impossible to say for sure, but the circumstantial evidence is pretty overwhelming. Undefeated in eight games in the Dome, winless in seven road games.

Record-loud crowds spurred on the Twins - they were louder than a jet taking off, as the TV folks reminded us time and time again. The insulated environment led opposing players and managers to act as if they'd been institutionalized. And in the last 10 years, the Dome has again caused normally stable people to rant and rave about its roof, field quality and noise. Nothing warms the heart of a Minnesotan more than a camera shot of an opposing manager looking baffled or outraged seconds after his team has been victimized by a lost fly ball or a series of infield hits that were possible only because the ball bounced 25 feet in the air after hitting the turf a foot in front of home plate. We enjoy those shots as much as a good hot dish.

In high school we had the chance to play a pair of games in the Dome. Sophomore year, our coach put me in at second base as a late-inning defensive replacement - this was still during my good glove, no bat phase. No more than 100 fans sat in the crowd. Yet I was completely unable to hear our excitable coach screaming instructions at me from the dugout. All I could do was put my arms up, asking, "what?" We won that year, partially thanks to a dome homer: one of our guys hit a routine ball that the outfielder lost like hundreds of major leaguers before him, resulting in an inside-the-park homer.

As a senior, we lost and I went hitless in front of, again, no more than 100 people, all of whom had a relative somewhere on the field. The lowlight of that game was our coach putting my cousin at first base. As one of our main pitchers and a huge Twins fan, his dream was to pitch a game at the Dome, but the start went to our junior hurler. To top off his emasculation, Matt had a DH hit for him. There hadn't been anyone that upset in the Dome since Kirk Gibson lost his mind in the dugout during the 1987 ALCS. Mention the game to Matt today and a 2,000-word email rant will arrive shortly after.

CBS Sports columnist Scott Miller wrote a massive piece on the Metrodome several weeks ago that superbly covers every famous game and episode in the stadium's history. Reading it makes it clear why 29 other teams hated coming to the Dome.

The new Twins stadium will no doubt be architecturally impressive. The sights will dazzle. The hot dogs will sport a new name, and maybe even a new taste. It will feel like a real baseball game, the way it was - cue up the poets - meant to be played. Fans and opponents will love it. In a few years it might even get a vote in a Sports Illustrated poll about the favorite stadiums in Major League Baseball. In other words, it will feel much like every other new park. The new stadiums built during the last decade-and-a-half sometimes feel as cookie-cutter as the old places like Three Rivers and Veterans, and the old domes like the Kingdome and Astrodome. They offer great experiences for the fans, but not much in the way of homefield advantage.

For better or worse - usually worse - the Metrodome was unique. When most people think of it, they'll probably remember the bad roof, the hefty bag in right and the ridiculous turf. Minnesota fans will remember Kirby's Game 6 homer and Hrbek's grand slam in 1987. They'll remember Whitey Herzog's whines and Ozzie Guillen's complaints. They'll remember two World Series titles. Two titles that wouldn't have been possible without the worst stadium in baseball.