Twins at Detroit. Tigers 2, Twins 0.
The mood in the visiting clubhouse was grim before tonight's game. News of Kyle Lohse's demotion had spread quickly and the team was stunned.
"I just can’t believe Kyle's gone," muttered Torii Hunter
"I wonder how he took it," mused Little Nicky Punto.
"Did anyone see it happen?" asked Luis Castillo.
Silence over the Twins clubhouse, then a voice, in barely a whisper, could be heard. "I saw," breathed Michael Cuddyer.
One by one, the team looked over to the clubhouse corner, where Michael Cuddyer was huddled, his eyes wide, his face white as death. "I saw," repeated Cuddyer, voice quaking. "His eyes turned red and flames came spouting from his ears. He began to spin 'round, faster and faster he span until he was just the wind itself, but the wind was no summer wind filled with green grass and dew, no no, this wind blew death. It sucked the breath out of six hot dog vendors. The wretched souls suffocated, then dessicated, their remains sucked into the tornado of his rage—yes those men sold their last hot dog today."
"Oh no!" cried Dennys Sampler Reyes.
"Man," said Punto. "I guess he was pissed."
"It's true," breathed Lew Ford. "He made the plane to Rochester divert to the Dome, so he could beat on Gardy's door with a bat."
"How do you know that?" asked Rondell White.
"Oh, he called me on my cell afterwards. He says hi."
"Gosh," said Punto. "I feel really bad. I wish we could have done more for him."
"What could we have done?" asked Justin Morneau. "We scored four runs for him!"
"I know! Four runs! Last year he would have kissed us all for four runs!"
"He did!" said Ford, looking far away for a moment.
"You know…." mused Littly Nicky Punto, "Maybe that's the problem?"
The players turned to look at him. "What do you mean, Little Nicky Punto?" asked Shannon Stewart.
"Well," Little Nicky said, standing up (though no one noticed the difference) "last year the pitching staff was awesome right?"
"Si," said Juan Castro.
"And we sucked, right?"
"Si," said Castro.
"And this year we're pretty good but the pitching staff blows chunks, right?"
"I see what you're getting at!" exclaimed Ford. "Maybe the pitching staff's sucking is our fault. Maybe we're too good offensively!"
"Yeah!" agreed Mauer. "and Johan didn't win the Cy Young last year because of us!"
"Well," said Torii Hunter, jaw clenched, "We're not going to make that mistake again."
"No we're not!" agreed Morneau. "Come on guys, we've got to go out and suck!"
"Yeah!" yelled Ford.
"For the pitchers!" squealed Punto.
All across the clubhouse, the cries rang out. "For Johan! For Brad! For Carlos! For Nutty!"
"And for Lohse!" added Mike Redmond quietly.
The players gazed at each other intensely, fire in their eyes and their bellies. "That's right," whispered Hunter, eyes full of tears, "for Lohse."