Culture

Brendan Harris

Johnny Trutor

Editor’s Note: This essay was submitted last Friday evening, shortly after the Minnesota Twins’ heartbreaking extra-innings defeat by the New York Yankees in Game Two of their American League Divisional Series matchup. The defeat left the Twins down 2-0 in a best of five series

Tonight, Brendan Harris gave the Minnesota fans, and fans of baseball across this country the game of his life, and nobody has said a damn thing about it. Harris is a journeyman role-player with stints in Chicago, Montréal, Washington, Cincinnati and Tampa Bay, who before he got to the Twins had struggled to find a role in an era of blind-eyed drug testing, and revenue-greedy managers. Harris had been given up on by everyone that had ever signed him, and he finally clicked with the "small ball" style of Gardenhire's Twins. Harris is not the fastest, strongest, or most dexterous guy on the field, especially when compared with the fantasy league team opposite him tonight.

Harris' play is all heart, as it always has been. I've never been disappointed as a Twins fan when number 23 steps into the batter's box, or puts on a glove at a variety of positions. Utility men are what poor teams use to fill gaps in the lineup when facing juggernauts, and Harris fits that role admirably, having two big hits filling in for the injured Matt Tolbert tonight. In addition, Harris made a key defensive stop when he was way out of position, showcasing every molecule of athletic talent in his body.

According to Baseball Reference, Harris made a little over $800,000 last year. That's not chump change, but tonight he shone brighter than guys who made twenty times that figure. Beyond that, he showed a kind of critical postseason poise that you'd expect from touted postseason newcomers, like Joba Chamberlain.

Harris went out there and did what I'll tell my children makes this country special. He went out there and did his job. I know that the media wanted a sappy story about Detroit's economic woes, and how the Tigers are a hardworking franchise that represents the spirit of that city, but Detroit is habitually bailed out by the government, Detroit can always go with hat in hand to anyone who'll listen to that story. The Twin Cities' grain mills closed down long ago. True, we've rebuilt our economy, but we rebuilt it on insurance and banking, and how are those industries doing now? Minnesotans appreciate the value of hard work, something that is frankly unheard of in the Manhattan archipelago of Yankees fans who can still afford to blow hundreds of dollars on a ticket at what amounts to the most expensive fantasy dance club in the Bronx. Harris represents the hardworking and humble people of my adopted city in the way that Alex Rodriguez' dalliances represent his.

A final thought. Harris grew up in Albany, New York as a kid. I wouldn't be surprised if there isn't a dusty Yankees cap in his mom's house sized for a little version of himself. But when you see the smugness of the Yankees as they ignore the talent of their opposition, when talentless announcers living off of their family's good name identify his team as the "Wildcard team" (apparently Boston won the AL Central), and when nobody gives the Twins a snowball's chance in hell of winning against America's heroic cavalcade of opportunists, money grubbers, and "naive 28 year olds," it's not hard to see why I'd latch onto someone who puts this much effort into the game. I'm a Brendan Harris kind of guy. As for Mark Teixiera, Alex Rodriguez, Nick Swisher and all the others who bounced from team to team not because nobody wanted them, but because they hadn't found the magical Steinbrenner price point: I wouldn't piss on them if they were on fire.