Jim Thome hit his 600th home run.

Everyone who has ever read the Dugout sent me a message saying “hey, can’t wait to read the Thome Dugout”. He’s been our signature character for over seven years now. ESPN stuttered saying “Jim” and I couldn’t tell whether or not they did it on purpose. Maybe this dumb baseball webcomic will be erased and forgotten in a hundred years, but I hope the big goofy rosey-cheeked manchild we spotlit along the way gets his big shiny face in the Baseball Hall Of Fame and is never forgotten.

Today’s Dugout follows.

Read the rest of this entry »

At the risk of ruining a perfectly cromulent Dugout, I wanted to share the latest commercial from Explore Minnesota, a group hoping to embiggen the state’s tourism. This is a fine follow-up to the Jim Thome Paul Bunyan commercial, even if it gives me fewer images of Kent Hrbek desperately trying to outrace a steam engine. Stay tuned until the end, where Twins catcher Joe Mauer breaks out some Chris Colfer-quality warbling. Would auto-tune be considered a performance enhancer? He’s not a great singer, but at least he isn’t trying to rhyme “California” with “Minnesota” like the rock climbing lady.

This is all in good fun, but I’m sad that only two kinds of commercials get to exist anymore. You’re either the Old Spice commercials (I’m looking at you, Edge Shave Gel), the Free Credit Report dot com commercials, or (like this one) a mixture of the two. I guess the makeup commercials where they make black ladies look like white ladies to sell shimmering eye-care count as a third kind.

Informal poll: How many of you want to go to Minnesota now that you’ve learned they have food, cities and lots of water?

The Minnesota Twins always have great commercials, but they’ve outdone themselves by adhering to one simple rule: dressing Jim Thome up as things = comedy. To advertise their series with the Tampa Bay Rays, the Twins dressed Thome as Paul Bunyan to express how much Jim is getting into the “Minnesota thing.” This is one of those times, like when Barry Bonds dressed up like Paula Abdul, that a Dugout pretty much has to be a transcript of what actually happened. Because come on, how do you make that funnier?

The video of said commercial is included after the jump, and make sure you watch it before reading today’s Dugout. Or watch and read at the same time, as they’re more or less the same thing. Tomorrow: Manny Ramirez starts traveling around the country planting seeds.

Read the rest of this entry »

HEY GUYS

Before Thursday, the only way baseball players got injured is by conditioning improperly and requiring Tommy John surgery, conditioning properly and requiring Tommy John surgery, kicking or punching inanimate objects in anger, or trying to iron a shirt while wearing it. You never actually break your leg playing baseball, unless you’re the Twins’ Tsuyoshi Nishioka, who did so during yesterday’s game.

As it often tends to do, the real baseball world tends to bend over backwards to accommodate serendipitous Dugout storylines. This is one of those times. In today’s Dugout, we are afforded the opportunity to check in with an old friend.

P.S. this is the first Dugout I’ve written in over a year. Happy to be back. If you’re inclined to hear me say more words about sports, you can find me at SB Nation, where I’m an associate editor, and Twitter, where I’m a jackass.

Read the rest of this entry »

Twins catcher Joe Mauer, obviously tired of all the effort it takes to select a groupie from the hotel lobby (and apparently split from 2005 Miss USA Chelsea Cooley), has turned over woman-finding duties to Extra TV.  (Yes, that Extra.)  Seriously, all you ladies have to do is fill out this form.  And Extra is really selling it, too:

[B]ehind all that fame and fortune is the humble heart of a regular Joe… Joe’s not the flashy type, but get this, ladies: he owns four houses, loves to shop for shoes, and wants to be married! “Well, I think I’ll be a great husband…I’m pretty easygoing, I’m a big family guy. Family comes first for me.”

“I like all kinds of women: blondes, brunettes, it doesn’t really matter to me,” he said… “If she doesn’t like baseball, I can probably get around that – but it would be better if she did!”

Joe and I are pretty similar.  We both like all kinds of women, and we're similarly flexible about what a gal is interested in.  I think it was just last week I was telling a friend, that if a girl doesn’t like being drugged with ether and chained up in the basement, I can probably get around that – but it would be better if she did!  Because birds gotta fly, fish gotta swim, bloggers gotta take their women in the night as they sleep.

(Story from sassy Bat-Girl via professionally hip RandBall)

It looks like the Twins are probably going to the playoffs this year, and it will be largely in part to MVP candidates/youngsters Justin Morneau and Joe Mauer. SI's newest issue has a feature that takes a look around the two-bedroom, three-story house that Morneau and Mauer share.

Considering that Mauer and Morneau are 23 and 25 and make millions of dollars to hit and catch baseballs, it might be the least surprising story ever. They have a gigantic flat-screen. They only have beverages in the refrigerator. One of them is messy; one's neat. They have a vending machine that serves Gatorade and beer. Add in the fact that Mauer is from St. Paul and Morneau is from Canada, and they're probably the nicest, most laid-back guys on the planet. I can't make fun of that.

But then there's this: "Last month Morneau downloaded the first season of Prison Break; one off day the two watched the show for six straight hours." Guhhh. Six hours? I couldn't watch that show for six minutes. It's like a cross between "Oz" and The Shawshank Redemption… only bad. I don't know how FOX did that, but I suspect the most important part was getting rid of swearing. Oh, and Mauer has a picture of Miss USA Chelsea Cooley cuddling up to him, so that sealed it: they're definitely gay. Yep, lots of butt-sex between these two.

I didn't want to be their friend anyway. I've got lots of friends. Like my mom. She thinks I'm the handsomest boy in my grade.