Ground ball, Jeter has it, throws across, Harris is out, the Yankees win and complete the sweep.
It's hard to be completely surprised by any of it. We've grown used to how the Twins make these miracle September runs to the finish. Cite the stats repeated over and over these past weeks to a Twins fan — 17 wins in 21 games, the only team to close out a stadium with a division title; to come back from 3 games down with 4 to play — and you're likely to get a knowing smile. "It's September baseball in the Teflon Era," they'd say.
Unfortunately, the quick playoff exit isn't surprising either (and there's a point at which one cannot use the fact that we've drawn the Yankees as opponents in 3 of our last 5 trips to the ALDS as an excuse). I'm disappointed the Twins couldn't make a miracle playoff run to bring their Metrodome tenure full circle. It would've been spectacular, but it also wouldn't have fit. The team always enters the playoffs as a team of destiny, and always fails to perform in the playoffs' klieg light. The 2009 ALDS looks exactly like October baseball in the Teflon Era.
What I find the most surprising, actually, is the effusive sentimentality among fans that the Teflon Era is over in Minnesota. For one, I'm surprised I'm getting so sappy and teary-eyed about it — I guess when they dig up home plate on national television, that's a cornerstone of my childhood they're digging out.
Still, I'm surprised we Twins fans are able to squeeze any sentimental value out of the FieldTurf at all. After all, the Twins may have arguably had their best years in the Metrodome. Still, those years are vastly outnumbered by a lot of really, really bad years.
In the stadium's first 19 years, the team finished above .500 four times — two of those were the World Series years. Despite the team's surge in 1987, 1988, 1991, and 1992, the team's predominant story line over the 28 years of Metrodome baseball has been one of rebuilding and, more recently, of a complete renaissance. But even during that renaissance (let's call it 2001-present), the Twins have languished in their quest to join the league's elite: they are 6-18 in postseason baseball since 2002 — only 2-9 at the Metrodome. Even including the championship years, the Twins aren't above .500 in the postseason (22-26). The Twins are vaunted as "piranhas," and feared for their fundamentals, but still, the team can't quite crack the inner circle of elite MLB franchises — and their archaic view of the business of baseball is the culprit.
From an economic standpoint, the franchise has outgrown the Metrodome, and now heads for a place where it can expand without a roof to stunt their growth. If there's a destiny for this team of destiny, it's for greener pastures, open sky, and — in all likelihood — for a bigger payroll. Hopefully, if there's a lesson learned in the front office from the last year of the Teflon Era, it's that the game has changed, and the Twins must use the financial advantage of the new, taxpayer-funded stadium to fuel this team's growth. And as Twins baseball enters the Target Field era, there's clearly a lot of growing to do.
