And It's Root, Root, Root For the Twinkies...

Around this time of year at Orchestra Hall, while Sommerfest audiences are spending their intermission break sipping wine, strolling Peavey Plaza, or conversing on any number of high-minded topics, the best place to find about half our orchestra's musicians is clustered in a corner of our backstage lounge, watching the Minnesota Twins on one of the two TVs we've stacked on top of a filing cabinet there. (We even have cable!)

Why two TVs? Well, we've had one forever, or at least as long as I've been around, and it was fine for baseball season (if a bit small for a whole roomful of people to try to watch,) but during the winter, disputes were known to break out between the hockey crowd and the basketball crowd over which sport should be on, and eventually, our principal cellist used his winnings from our annual NCAA March Madness pool to buy us a brand new set, and our wily stagehands threw a splitter on the cable wire, and voila! No more arguments.

Well, okay, there are arguments. But they tend to be your standard-issue sports talk arguments, which, as everyone knows, are fun, right up until they aren't anymore. And with multiple games playing on multiple sets simultaneously, there can be some very entertaining (and confusing) crosstalk in our little corner...



I recorded that last November, I think, just to hear how much we sound like a bunch of typical morons at a sports bar. Quite a bit, apparently. By the way, the cast list for that little bunch of nonsense, as best I can make out, includes yours truly, bassist Dave Williamson, violist Megan Tam, and violinist Mike Sutton on the hockey talk; cellist Tony Ross, percussionist Kevin Watkins, and horn player Mike Gast talking hoops;and violist Richard Marshall asking questions about a sport I can't identify.

So, anyway, back to the Twins. They're doing awfully well this year, quite a bit better than anyone really expected in what was supposed to be a rebuilding year, which is great for us in the orchestra, because we tend to make a lot of noise in our little sports corner when good things are happening to our teams, and it's always nice to go back on stage with a bit of extra adrenaline. But what's impressed me most about the Twins this summer isn't anything they've accomplished on the field: it's something they dared to do off it, in full view of the public, despite virtual assurance that they'd come off looking more than a little goofy.

If you've watched any Twins games this season, you probably know what I'm talking about. The team, always known for the great TV commercials it produces, got its entire pitching staff together to record a promotional ad in which, for no apparent reason, they stand on chorus risers in the middle of an outdoor diamond and sing about themselves to the tune of Beethoven's "Ode to Joy," while pitching coach Rick Anderson conducts them with a miniature bat.



That takes some serious guts, if you ask me. Imagine if someone asked you and everyone you work with to sing a little song for everyone in your city to watch on television for the next six months. (Actually, you don't have to imagine it. There's a reality show on TLC that does exactly that...) And the most amazing thing about it is that, with the notable exception of Matt Guerrier, these guys all seem quite capable of singing on pitch! I mean, none of them is going to be taking gigs away from Nathan Gunn anytime soon, and maybe I'm just imposing a stereotypical view of professional athletes on the situation, but doesn't it seem surprising that the Twins pitchers can (almost) all sing decently?

Just one more reason to love 'em, I guess. Now, if you'll excuse me, SportsCenter's about to start...