My Jersey-Chasing Rant

            People always give me weird looks when I start talking sports, my family included.  I’m not sure really sure why.  Maybe it’s simply because I’m a girl.  Or maybe it’s because I’m usually rocking heels and pageant hair—you know, the quintessential girlie-girl—when I start spouting of Twins history at the bar.  But stereotypes aside, I’m getting beyond frustrated at the idea that a girl can’t possibly know sports.

            It happened again today.  I was at the chiropractor nursing an injury I aggravated during my half-marathon last weekend.  My doctor and I started talking Twins baseball—how great the new stadium is, how we actually have a team that could take us pretty far this year if everyone stays healthy.  We joked about how signing Jacque was a smart move because most of our players are capable of backing up a different position so we could throw him anywhere in the outfield and be okay.  I commented that we would be in picture-perfect shape if we could convince Ramos to try-out third base, our seemingly only weak spot this year.  My doctor sighed and said that it was a real disappointment that we couldn’t get Crede off the DL—he had the potential to be a good player for us.

            But Crede isn’t on the DL.  He’s not even a Twin anymore.  As I explained what had happened to the former White Sox, I saw the look.  It wasn’t just from my doctor.  It was from the other patients in the rehab room as well.  I continued on about what had happened in the off-season, where he was now, etc. etc.—the whole time knowing full well that everyone in the room was listening to me.

            I know sports—more importantly, Twins baseball—and I’ve been called a jersey chaser more times than I’d like to count because of it.  To me, it’s probably the biggest insult I could get.  Criticize my hair or my outfit but call me a jersey chaser and you’re likely to make it on my shit list right away.  For people that know me, they know it’s the farthest thing from the truth.  Did I get excited when I saw Dan Gladden in the elevator in Kansas City?  Heck, yes.  That will never change.  But does that make me a jersey chaser?  Not a bit.  I’ll always be a girlie-girl and I’ll always know more about sports than most guys—it’s just who I am.  But watch it.  If you call me a jersey chaser, I may just have to embarrass you by proving how little you actually know about the Twins.  It’s happened before.