The Eldritch Power Of The Twins’ Home Run Sausage Must Be Handled With Care

The Twins can’t lose. Sunday’s 11-5 win over the Angels was their seventh in a row, and the team that started 7-13 is now above .500. However, the fact that this streak is happening is less interesting than why it is happening. It is happening because of the sausage.

Back on April 22, the Twins found themselves trailing the putrid Chicago White Sox 2-0 through five innings. That’s when Minnesota hitting coach David Popkins retrieved a large, tangy summer sausage from his bag and displayed it in the dugout. He instructed all of the players to touch the sausage before going to the plate, and the Twins went on to hit a bunch of homers and win the game, 6-3. The sausage went on the road with the Twins, and the ritual expanded: Whenever a Twins player hits a homer, the sausage is tossed at them as they make their way back to the dugout.

Though the sausage’s power can’t be explained, its potency can’t be denied. After just a few days in its presence, many of the Twins already seem to have fallen under the sausage’s sway, worshipping it without hesitation or need of explanation. “Everybody touches it before we go to the plate,” Kyle Farmer told reporters on Sunday. “Every at-bat, they just kind of tap it. It just organically happened.”

“I don’t know how the sausage ended up in the dugout,” said Ryan Jeffers, indicating that the sausage’s arcane influence may be affecting the players’ short-term memory. “But it was there.”

As anyone who is familiar with powerful totems—orbs, talismans, ritual daggers, things of that nature—can tell you, the power they bestow must be accepted on faith but cautiously. That which appears sacred is often accursed, and it can be hard to tell the difference before it’s too late. Twins manager Rocco Baldelli, perhaps more resistant to the sausage’s influence due to his age and experience, expressed some trepidation about the sausage’s presence before Sunday’s game.

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“I’m slightly concerned as, like, more of an adult than maybe some of the people in the other room, that the package is going to open up, and the thing hasn’t been refrigerated in many days,” said Baldelli. “And there’s no doubt that when that thing opens up, whoever’s touching it is in deep trouble.”

Baldelli’s players would do well to heed their manager’s warnings. One cannot hope to bend the power of such a sausage to his own purpose for long. If I were on that team, I would cast the sausage from the dugout and see it destroyed before its true will could be revealed.

Then again, why should I or anyone else deprive themselves of the sausage’s comforts? What harm could come from peeling the packaging at the corner, just enough to reveal the sausage’s vibrant color and texture? What should stop any man from leaning in for one small sniff—just a sniff!—of the aroma exuded by the sausage? Mightn’t I have a taste of the flesh within? Just a small one?



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