First Pitch: 6:40 PM
TV: Twins.TV
Radio: TIBN, WCCO 830, The Wolf 102.9 FM, Audacy
Know Yo’ Foe: Pinstripe Alley
The Yankees are always cleaner,
Their bats ever prone to rake.
Our fans with aloof demeanor
Expecting a big mistake.
While bleacherite hearts are pounding,
That offense is gonna score.
Long years of these gaffes confounding,
And yet we are back for more:
Under TC, under TC, Muddles confusing infinite losing, Lacking in glee. Out on the field, they come to play, Then get their butts kicked
every day. No longer hoping, already coping, Under TC.
Up here, many sports aren’t happy,
No chances for ring or bowl.
Our pathos has turned to crappy,
A detriment of the soul.
But still, when the days are sunny,
We queue at the Target gate
Inclined to dispense with money
To watch someone at the plate!
Oh-oh,
Under TC, under TC,
So many beat us, come to defeat us
Twenty to three.
Starters are rocked and get the hook,
In come relievers – no one look!
Homers and doubles leave us in rubbles
Under TC,
Under TC,
Still life is sweet here taking a seat here
Thrilled and carefree!
Hoping they burgeon day by day,
We get the urge ‘n’ watch ‘em play.
We’ve got the spirit (boos, you can hear it)
Under TC!
‘Cuz Luke ain’t a fluke
And Buck has the truck:
They race on the base
With grace over luck.
And Joe, he can throw,
For Pablo, we throb,
And Matt with the bat will roll.
Today, we can say
No thanks to the Yanks;
Will Taj make ‘em dodge,
All flat when they swing?
The paint on their black,
The blow when we whack–
So go, those Twinkies, GO!
Under TC, under TC,
Ownership mean, yet still we are keen;
It’s here we should be!
Far from the top, a flop that’s panned,
But we won’t stop, so ring out the band!
Each little fan here makes up the clan here
Under TC.
Each little rooter, Skyway commuter,
Under TC.
Each little tale here ends with a fail here,
Still we’ll be spotted, bleachers allotted,
Cheering our luck here (though we all suck here)
Under TC!
