Frozen ropes for everyone!

The mighty metaphysical hammer of cosmic justice has fallen. Twins win! Twins win! Twins win! Of course, this probably means nothing to you because you fall into one of two categories of philistine: the backwards or the idiotic.

Your basic backward philistine enjoys sports that have more to do with smashing and/or lame fashion. Sports such as football, basketball, tennis, golf, NASCAR, curling and anything "X-treme." Observe.

Man of class: Just yesterday the Twins capture at AL Central crown after what was believed an insurmountable lead by the Tigers.
Bacwards Philistine: What does insumountable mean? Is like when the quarterback throws a "long-bomb down the gridiron?" Or is it more like basketball players and their lack of team work and awesome ghetto tattoos and baggy shorts.
M.O.C: It’s rather unlike either of those things.
B.P: What about tennis and its racist, WASPy metnality that permeates the international rankings? Or NASCAR pile ups? Or like when some 33 year-old BMX rider goes up and down a half-pipe?
M.O.C: Excuse me please, I have to go have martinis on the veranda with movie stars now.

Then of course there’s the idiot philistine. Often times this is an individual who, having discovered books without pictures, believes sports to be below their refined tastes.

Man of Class: Just yesterday the Twins capture at AL Central crown after what was believed an insurmountable lead by the Tigers.
Idiot Philistine: Insurmountable reminds me of a quote by G.K. Chesterton: "All things in moderation except quoting fat ass Englishmen who like to swap religious convictions."
M.O.C: That was unnecssary.
I.P: I read poetry instead of boxscores.
M.O.C: Do you even know how to read a boxscore?
I.P: I imagine I would fancy sports played by the marginalized immigrants of washed-up European superpowers.
M.O.C: Why?
I.P: Because Eruopeans are full of class.
M.O.C: Name one thing that has come out of any European country in the last 30 years?
I.P: That’s easy, Harold Pinter.
M.O.C: You should kill yourself.
I.P: Only if it becomes the rage after a futball victories.

And there you go. If you don’t like baseball you're either a dumbfuck or lamefuck. If however you do know and appreciate a heater in the batter’s kitchen on a hitter’s count with ducks on the pond, you’re more than welcome to come over the my apartment anytime and drink some of the super fancy bourbon I bought to celebrate.

On Bartlett and Punto and Mauer and Radke. Fuck you Morneau and Cuddyer, I still hate you.