Twins at Kansas City. Royals 3, Twins 1

Okay, I've spent a lot of time making fun of Zach Greinke. But I can't help it. The guy's twelve years old. He makes Chairman Mauer look like Mike Piazza without the hair product. It's like some Disney movie, maybe The Rookie meets Little Big League--whether through magic or a rich daddy (or both) an adolescent finds himself in the starting rotation of a major league ballclub.

Of course, in this case, the Royals are only a major league in the technical sense. But that's just the point—the kid (school teacher/has-been/girl/monkey) joins a team that is down and way, way out. And at first, the team is hard on the kid—remember the part where Mike Sweeney hid all of Greinke's clothes when he was in the shower and he had to do his post-game interview wearing only his glove? Or when Dennys Sampler Reyes locked him in his locker and wouldn't let him out until he sang the complete works of Britney Spears? Or when Desi Relaford pinned him down, wrapped him up in duct tape, and pulled off all his body hair? Fortunately, he didn't have much to begin with.

But then the kid started to pitch. And Mike Sweeney found himself clutching Greinke's Teen Titan t-shirt close to his palpitating heart, and Desi Relaford unconsciously gnawed on the body-hair dappled duct tape, and Dennys Reyes's burped up several days worth of Grand Slam Breakfast. "Dude, that little schmuck (old man/Robert Redford/girl/monkey) sure can pitch!"

The Twins are 1-2 against the little squirt this season—though one could argue that if the Twins weren't in a movie of their own called Dude, Where's My Offense? Corey Koskie wouldn't be putting peanut butter in Justin Morneau's knickers right now.

The Twins have managed to make any number of pitchers look like Eppy Calvin "Nuke" LaLouche this year, or at least Dennis Quaid in The Rookie. It's a service to the community—oh, Nate Robertson, Zach Greinke, Victor Santos, Paul Abbott, you need a good start? Here you go!

As for Kyle Lohse, after his complete game shut-out last week, he went right back to his old "I-was-really-good-last-year!" form. If we’d been playing a real team, things might have been a bit more Bad News Bears.

What do we do for poor Kyle? There's a good pitcher in there somewhere. Perhaps the answer is in the movies? I remember a fine film in which a pitcher had good stuff but just couldn't find himself—until the team found him a buddy...and the pitcher found himself.

Why not? It worked for Matt LeBlanc. And he's got a spin-off!

Posted by Batgirl at July 15, 2004 10:32 PM