What?

What do you want from me? Answers? I’m out of answers, brothers and sisters. In fact, I’m completely out of questions. I’ve got a head full of nothing, and whatever nonsense or wisdom I might cough up isn’t going to be of any use to a baseball team that right now couldn’t find its way out of the belly of a sawdust whale if you supplied it with a can of gasoline and a box of strike-anywhere matches.

Say what, Minnesota Twins organization? You want an apology? For what? What the hell did I ever do to you? You want me to apologize for that time I threw your Boy Scout Day promotional giveaway canteen in Turtle Creek when I was nine years old? Really? Is that what this is all about? Would that make you happy?

Fine, then, I’m sorry. How about if I tell you I’ve been waking up sorry every morning since that disgraceful and uncharacteristic episode, and that I’m sorrier now than I ever was? How about if I tell you that that one youthful indiscretion completely ruined my life, and made my parents curse the day I was born?

There. Does that make you feel better? Can we please shake hands and forget it ever happened and get on with more important matters now? Because, seriously, if you don’t get your act together by August 3rd, when the Lutherans invade the Dome, you’re going to be one sorry organization. If you give those people a performance that in any way, shape, or form resembles your performances of the last week, mark my words, or at least mark the words of my old friend Mick Garry, who knows only too well the havok Lutherans can wreak: those people will tear that Teflon Dump right down to the studs.