HOUSTON — The average Minnesota sports fan is complicated, tortured and pessimistic. Perhaps no local athlete understands their collective psyche better than Twins reliever Caleb Thielbar, who was raised 45 miles outside the Twin Cities in Randolph, Minn.
A fan of all the local teams growing up, Thielbar has experienced back-breaking, series-ending wild pitches and inside-the-park homers, domination by superior postseason opponents, the heartbreak of Gary Anderson, and the sheer ineptitude of the Timberwolves.
He understands deeply why local fans always expect the other shoe to drop, which is why it was so fitting last week when Thielbar played a prominent role in preventing such a moment.
During Wednesday’s wild-card clincher, in a moment that defies the Phil Cuzzis and Blair Walshes of Minnesota’s sordid past, Thielbar expertly tiptoed the thin line between success and disaster. After Toronto loaded the bases on a little one-out dribbler up the line — a play which typically has been the precursor to Minnesotan disasters of the past — Thielbar faced Toronto slugger Matt Chapman. And just as everyone suspected he would, Chapman followed by hitting a screamer toward the left-field corner, a 111.8 mph laser destined to crush the souls of every man, woman and child in Twins Territory.
But the other shoe never dropped.
Unlike every other Minnesota sports horror movie of the past 25 years, Chapman’s bullet veered foul at the last second. One pitch later, Thielbar brought the house down by inducing a perfectly executed 6-4-3 double play. And just like that, the Twins averted disaster. Call it the Minneapolis Miracle, part deux.
“I kind of blacked out,” Thielbar said. “Honestly, I don’t even remember the crowd noise after that double play was turned. I actually had to watch replays to get an idea of how loud it actually got. It was an awesome moment.”
For decades, these moments impossibly and embarrassingly avoided Twins fans. The franchise became a bit of a punching bag as the postseason losing streak grew. Rather than buy into a team that won the division three times in five seasons, the most skeptical fans, perhaps fearful of more heartbreak, lived by the mantra of “Let’s talk after you do something in October.”
To some extent, last week’s wild-card sweep is changing the outlook. Although his Minnesotan fandom reminds him to remain guarded, Thielbar is hoping this moment brings the fans back,
“I thought the Minneapolis Miracle a few years ago was going to turn that around, but we go and lose 41-7 or something like that in the NFC Championship game,” Thielbar said. “I’ve seen it. I mean, the Timberwolves went to the conference finals I think one year with (Kevin) Garnett, but other than that, it’s tough as a fan. I get why people are down all the time. Hopefully we can at least make some people happy and make them realize that playoff success can happen.”
Nobody knows what the rest of the month will look like for the Twins. But Thielbar suspects many more fans will optimistically watch along with the club as a result of its recent success. Ahead of Saturday’s opening game of the ALDS, myriad Twins fans shared their experiences with The Athletic. Submissions were edited for clarity and length.
“Get in the car, we’re going to Sesame Street Live!” my dad told me on my 8th birthday in 1991. Little did I know that I was in for an extremely exciting surprise. Only when we got downtown and he took an unexpected turn toward the Metrodome did I realize that he was really taking me to Game 2 of the World Series. That game and evening remain perhaps my favorite childhood memory.
Baseball in general and the Twins in particular has always been central to my relationship with my dad — especially as his health deteriorated in recent years and catching a game on TV became something easy for us to do together. The last time I hung out with him was June 9 of this year. He was very sick with cancer and barely able to walk around the house, but I brought my 1-year-old son over to catch the Twins-Blue Jays game with him. The Twins were under .500, and I remember complaining a lot about how disappointing the team was. But my dad and I high-fived after they pulled off an inspiring win in the 10th inning. He was gone less than a week later. Part of me wishes we spent more time that evening talking about things deeper than lineup construction and bullpen management, but given the thousands of Twins games we watched together at the ballpark and on TV over the years, it’s an appropriate final memory. I’ll always be grateful for that last high-five.
I was at Target Field as the Twins swept the Jays this week. I bought tickets in 319, the same section where my dad and mom had season tickets until his cancer diagnosis in late 2014. They were easily the best games I’ve seen in Minnesota since I was there with my pops to see Ron Gant overrun first base and get tagged out by Hrbek. For a couple days at least, it felt like that 1991 magic was back. But for me personally, something was missing.
My heart hurt on Thursday when my mom came over and told me she’s having a tough time watching the Twins, because she knows how excited my dad would be to see them finally have playoff success after all those years of disappointment. I knew exactly what she meant. And yet part of me can’t help but believe that he’s out there somewhere, following along with great interest as the Twins make believers out of a new generation of fans. I wish he could’ve stuck around long enough to savor this playoff run with me, but the Twins will always be our team, and I can’t wait to surprise my kids with World Series tickets at Target Field some October before too long.
— Aaron
When the Twins won their first World Series in ’87, I was told by my wife in no uncertain terms to celebrate quietly in front of the TV so as not to awaken our three-month old daughter. Today, that daughter has a 17-month-old daughter of her own and both of them were decked out in Twins gear Tuesday for Game 1 of the playoffs (and my grandson played his t-ball game this week in the Twins cap he got on our all-family trip to Target Field this summer to celebrate my 65th birthday). From my childhood hero Harmon Killebrew to Royce Lewis, our Twins family fandom is spanning the generations.
— Michael F.
I started loving Twins baseball when I was 13 years old.
The year was 1990. My parents grew up in Minnesota, but after my dad’s sojourn in the Air Force, we settled in North Carolina. Dad watched the Twins via satellite, and that year I joined him. I fell hard for the game and that cellar-dwelling team. The next year was 1991. Good timing, huh?
The emotions of that October are still so clear—real core memory stuff. I remember just sitting there sobbing after Game 7, long after everyone else had gone to bed. I still tear up a little when I hear the theme from Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. But hey, after all that, and knowing all about ‘87, it seemed like the World Series would be a semi-regular occurrence, right? HA.
I never lost faith. Years later, they threatened to move the team to a city practically in my back yard! I was furious. Sure, they’d be my local team, but they wouldn’t be the Minnesota Twins any more. But of course I went to the exhibition game they played down here, all decked out in my Twins gear and bouncing around like a little kid after a Fun Dip binge. It was one of the best days of my life, especially considering that they ended up staying where they belong. More core memories.
I’ve followed along as best I could all these years. Not always able to watch, but always cheering on the box scores. And hey, every time they got to the playoffs, I was able to watch the nationally televised games! So even 1100 miles away, I didn’t miss out on any of the really exquisite suffering.
My dad and I call each other almost every day during the season to talk Twins, especially these last few years since we got MLB streaming and can actually watch again. During the wild-card series this week, we kept calling each other to make sure no one was having a cardiac episode. Hey, he’s 76; it could happen.
But my dad is the only other Twins fan I know around here. I find that this week, this glorious baseball week, I’m feeling all the things every fan is feeling. Massive relief, elation, pride, some nerves about the upcoming series (that’s plural, you understand). But I’m also feeling oddly lonely. I wish I was there, surrounded by other Twins fans. I wish I could say “Royce” to an acquaintance and have them know who I was talking about. I wish the local news cared about my team. Most of all, I wish I could be at beautiful Target Field, screaming myself hoarse for the Twins.
I’ve never been inside Target Field. I did get to walk around the outside once, peering in with the wistfulness of a Dickensian orphan at the manor gates. But this week, I could feel the magic all the way from my living room. The noise. The chanting. The homer hankies. It took me right back to my 14-year-old self, feeling the Metrodome madness in my bones as I shouted my support for the ‘91 World Champions from half a country away. The magic is back. Bless you, Minnesota, you brought the magic back. I think I’ll go call my dad.
— Jenni
I was 9 when my dad brought me to the first and only playoff game I’ve attended against the Toronto Blue Jays in 1991. My father passed away in 2003 from cancer. I now have a 9 year old son, and he’s an avid MN sports fan. I surprised him with tickets to the Twins’ first playoff game. It was his first playoff game and my second. When I found out who we were going up against I couldn’t stop thinking of my dad. Then we went and we beat the Blue Jays just like we did in 1991. To say it was a great feeling would be an understatement. Go Twins!!!
— Luke
This season has been so memorable in our household. My husband and I each have our own Twins memories over the years — for him it’s his late uncle taking him and his cousins to the Metrodome once a year from western Wisconsin. For me it’s random games attended with my friends in high school and college on dollar dome dog nights. But now we have two kids who are 9 and 5 and for our oldest, this is the first year that all of the stats and players and strategy really started to click in his brain and get his attention. He’s had a charmed baseball year — his 10U instructional team won their championship in a walk off — and I can’t even tell you how many player autographs he’s gotten at Saints games (even Byron Buxton!).
We’ve been to amazing games this year at Target Field, including when they clinched the AL Central. Our kids went wild getting to see Duran’s entrance at night for the first time — they’re obsessed with him and that song. They literally request it on repeat as their cleaning music jam when it’s time for chores.
I had no plans initially to attend any of the wild-card games. We didn’t want to spend the money for all four of us, especially knowing our 5-year-old would get a little bored no matter what, and my husband is a teacher and getting time off can be difficult. But on Tuesday morning, I was feeling pretty sure I’d regret missing out, so I hopped on StubHub and got tickets for myself and our oldest for Wednesday, and told his teacher that I’d be taking him out. He was beyond excited to go to the game and missing school for it was an extra thrill. He approached our seats with a little trepidation, noticing the Toronto jerseys next to us until they disarmed him with a laugh: “We’re not the enemy! Don’t worry! Did you get to leave school early for this, young man??” We had the best time chatting with them. I loved those Canadians and I loved baseball for giving him that experience of seeing how people can be excited about different things and it isn’t something to be aggressive about!
The game was, obviously, unreal. I don’t even know what to say because I had never attended anything like it in my life and I’ll always cherish that energy. We were absolutely losing it and hopefully he always remembers his mom taking him to one of the best baseball games of his life.
And I’m hoping that I can still get something figured out for my husband to attend next week. Poor guy has been the biggest fan for so long and was just dying of jealousy!
— Julie
I was born in October of 1987 and the first known picture of me is in the nursery with a Homer Hanky over top me. Unfortunately, I’m not old enough to remember ’87 or ’91, with my first real Twins memory being the disappointment my dad showed after Kirby got hit in the eye.
Growing up, my grandfather was responsible for training and scheduling the altar servers at church and every year he’d bring all of them to the Twins game. The last time we went before he died, David Ortiz hit a walk off for the Twins against Cleveland. I think it was 2002. Essentially, he died of a broken heart nine months after my grandma passed and that game was the last time I remember seeing him happy.
The past 10 or so years, I had been my dad’s primary caretaker through dementia. Even though he didn’t really understand what was going on, I made sure to keep him updated on the Twins, especially Arraez’ chase for the batting title last year. He passed away in January after a lifetime of being the quintessential ball guy and I know he’s got a popcorn and a Michelob cheering right alongside us.
— Andy
I was born in 1998, so in my conscious memory I have never seen a Twins playoff win. The years and years of always being swept by the Yankees capped with the 2017 wild-card game first inning, along with thinking the tide would turn and still getting swept by the Astros…
My hope has been capped. Any good thing that has happened in the last few years has brought hope with a dread that I couldn’t kick. “Yeah we signed Carlos Correa, but we’ll probably still get swept.” “Pitching staff is looking great this year, let’s hope they don’t choke or get hurt when it’s crunch time” “Oh cool we won the season series against the Yankees, but we probably won’t be at them when it matters” The streak was just the dark cloud that looked like it would never leave.
I can say now that dark cloud is gone. I actually have pure hope again like back when I was growing up and so naive. The games this year have felt like classic Twins losses, except the flub ups never materialized! Royce being our savior, plus Carlos and the pitching staff, all around to not only get the game win but the series win… We’re playing with house money! I’m actually optimistic again, looking forward to the competition of the Astros instead of dreading how good they are. Getting the monkey off our back means we can just have fun watching baseball again and have that pure hope that s— we might be able to win the whole thing!
— Andrew
I was seven years old when the Twins last won a playoff game. Not even sure if I was able to pour my own bowl of cereal at the time. Being 7, I was still figuring out what sports were and unfortunately I have zero recollection of that win. Do I remember the 18 playoff losses? Yes, every single one.
Baseball was my first love because it’s the team my dad was most into at the time, and there were so many household names and guys on those mid-late 2000s teams you could cling to.
I had to take a break from this team. I couldn’t take it anymore until last season when we signed Correa. I kept my eyes on them, but didn’t think highly.
This year was painful for months two and three. I was ready to give up, but I consistently kept telling my friends: “I have no idea what it is about this team, and this could be the worst Twins playoff team I’ve ever seen in my life, but that makes me think we’ll win at least a game IF we don’t blow the division like last year”
Thank god for Cleveland selling the farm at the deadline. I cried when we beat the Blue Jays in game 1 and I HAD to make sure I was there for game 2.
Every hit the Blue Jays got, felt like the end knowing the history. Once Duran struck out the last man, my legs couldn’t hold up. Eyes watered up, I hugged everyone I could. This means a lot, not only to me and the fans, but I’m sure former players in those mid-late 2000s that couldn’t get it done.
It feels like we can finally look back and talk about how awesome those teams were instead of realizing the choke job that would ensue.
The Twins and Timberwolves had me in tears because I’ve wanted them to make/win a playoff game/series so bad. Truly one of the most uplifting moments in my sports fandom.
It’s hard to imagine them going any further, but as Minnnesotans, we always have hope.
— Austin
I grew up watching the Twins and going to the Metrodome all the time. It was my favorite place on earth.
My grandma was a huge Twins fan and she passed away this summer. So every time they keep winning we say this one’s for you grandma. We know she’s watching down on them and excited. But she would watch them every day and would keep notes on the players to keep track of them as she got older. She used to bring Circle Me Bert signs to games with her. And my favorite is, my mom and I stood all morning one day to meet Justin Morneau at a Best Buy and get his picture and autograph. When we got up to meet him we just had to tell him that he was my grandma’s favorite because she loved his smile!
I’m excited to pass on these memories and make new ones with my kids this playoff round. We met Lewis and Miranda this summer which my kids loved. And we’re excited to get out our Metrodome chairs and wave our Homer Hankies this week as we watch the games.
— Monica
I grew up in Nowthen, MN as a lifelong Twins fan, and it goes back all the way to when I was a kid. My grandpa was a massive Twins fan, listening to and watching all the games as far back as I can remember. One of the few pictures I have of him from when I was little has him in a Twins jacket and hat. When we were working outside in the yard or on the house, there was always John Gordon and Danny on the radio every night. He passed away suddenly from a heart attack 15 years ago, and when Target Field was being built we as a family paid to have his name on the name wall. (I included a picture of my parents at the wall with his name.)
Every summer we would go to one game as a family, getting our gloves and jerseys and riding the light rail and we’d always go to the place where his name is. My sister and I spent many late nights as kids listening to games on the radio when we should have been sleeping – from Jason Kubel’s grand slam against the Red Sox, to Morneau’s homer against the Brewers on Sunday Night Baseball at the Dome, to the comeback to catch the Tigers and Casilla’s winner, to the crazy loss against the Athletics, and so many more.
I’ve moved away from Minnesota now and live in Salt Lake City, have for a few years. Every year I get MLB TV and listen/watch as many games as humanly possible. My grandma passed away a few weeks ago, and I was able to come home for the funeral and spend time with family.
While home, I had the idea to see if we could go as a family to a Twins game, since we hadn’t in 7 years. We made it work with the schedule, and ended up going to the division clincher with my siblings and my mom. Great game, fun time, absolutely loved the atmosphere but the whole time I was thinking about my grandpa. He would have been so excited about winning the division and a playoff series. I know he’s watching and excited, and maybe just maybe this is the year. I already told my wife that if they make the World Series I’m coming back for a game. I’ve got my first kid on the way, she’s due Nov. 6th and that would be the best way to celebrate a Twins title, keep the memories and tradition going.
— Jordan
(Top photo: Stephen Maturen/Getty Images)
