I've never been a huge baseball fan. I usually catch a few games on the television during the season, and every couple of years I go to the ballpark. But it's to see the Saints more than the Twins. The Twins are playing some great ball these days, and any year it feels like they could make a run at the Series. But it's not something I obsess over. I can't keep track of stats for sports. I just don't have the head for it. You can get away with that with many sports, but not baseball. To be a true baseball fan, you've got to be a numbers person. Batting averages, box scores, Earned Run Averages. It's like a statistics class with athletes.
Yesterday I heard that Kirby Puckett had a stroke and had been taken to the hospital. This morning when I checked the news there was little more information. But one thing caught my eye. An employee of the hospital he was admitted to anonymously stated that Puckett was in critical condition. Call it a premonition, call it a feeling; I was sure he was going to die after reading that. And he did.
The Vikings went to the Superbowl four times and always came home as losers. The North Stars made some admirable attempts, but their names never went on Lord Stanley's cup. Neither has the young Wild team, yet. Wolves, nope. The Twins are one of the few hometown teams we have here in Minnesota that got it done. They went to the big dance and came home a winner. Not once, but twice. And a huge part of that was thanks to Kirby Puckett. Thanks for the memories, Kirby.
Date: March 6
Ride type: Commute
March mileage: 50
Year to date mileage: 499