A trip to the Twins Clubhouse
They were all coming back from a trip to Mauer's house, where the team had finished watching a movie on his enormous movie screen in the basement.
"Boy, that's a first," said backup catcher Mike Redmond, "We went to Joe's house and nobody got hurt!" There was no laughter, and I knew he was serious. I introduced myself to the team and inquired as to what he meant.
"Well," said reliever Jesse Crain, "In the offseason, for example, Lew Ford was trying to open a can of tuna, but had some problems and tweaked his elbow, one thing led to another, and well, he's stuck in Joe's blinds, and we have no idea how to get him out."
Mauer nodded.
"Then there is Luis Castillo who was in the garage building a new swing set for some poor Dominican children, but he couldn't handle the circular saw, it spooked him, and he pulled his hamstring running away, " utility infielder Alexi Casilla told me as I cringed.
Mauer nodded.
"Ooh, don't forget about Rondell," starter Boof Bonser said.
"What about Rondell?" I inquired, scared to find out where this was going to go.
"Well, he was playing golf on Joe's 9 hole course in the backyard, and he lost his grip on the club, it bounced off of a tree," Outfielder Jason Kubel recounted.
"And it hit him?" I asked, worried for his safety.
"Oh, no. He stepped on a pissed off rattlesnake. But still. That flying golf club sure was freaky," Kubel finished.
Mauer nodded.
Just then, a youthful looking pitcher with emotional problems snuck into the clubhouse. "I'm looking for Torii Hunter," Zach Greinke said meekly. "I wanted to apologize for hitting you in the face the other day. Buddy told me to pitch high and away, and I forgot for a second that he wasn't lefthanded, like all of the other stars on the team." Torii and Zach then went off to share a bottle of champagne he had left over. Of course, Greinke didn't because he's only 14.
We returned to the conversation on player injuries, where pitcher Matt Guerrier was speaking, "Remember when Jeff was trying to make us all dinner, and he was cutting carrots for the salad?"
I winced.
"Yeah, he's not used to the funny grips on everything in Joe's house," Guerrier said.
Mauer nodded.
"Funny grips?" I asked.
"Well, yeah. Joe's a lefty. Everything in his house is designed for him to use. We even put in a bunch of lefthanded implements here in the clubhouse since we have so many valuable southpaws here," Guerrier said, while Johan Santana grinned and Justin Morneau stood stoically and Mauer nodded.
I was aghast. "Do you know how many people are injured using tools that weren't designed for their handedness? Thousands! Have you noticed that all of your injuries are to righties?"
Everyone was at first very sheepish, realizing that they had made such a terrible mistake, and I even heard Ron Gardenhire to go out and buy some normal tools. For a moment, everyone was quiet, until we head some mild oaths from behind us.
"Dagnabbit, I can't figure out these flippin' scissors!" It was sidearmer Pat Neshek, who was putting together get well cards, and was struggling mightily with a sheet of construction paper and a pair of left handed scissors.
Time slowed, and I dove across the table. "Noooooooooooo!" I shouted as I swatted the scissors away from him. Then, I heard a terrible scream. It was Rondell White, who had just returned to tell us that he was OK to play again. The scissors were sticking out of his calf. It looked like the muscle was torn.
Needless to say, I wasn't invited back to the dugout.