There was nothing inherently wrong with the conditions at Target Field as the Twins had their home opener Thursday against Seattle.

All traces of our early-week dumping of snow were eradicated by the Twins’ efficient crew. Fans — the vast majority of whom presumably grew up here — knew how to dress for a chilly day. The flyover was on cue. Baseball proceeded pretty much as usual.

And yet with nothing really wrong, it still didn’t quite feel right — a reminder that baseball, perhaps more than any other sport, is just as much about a feeling as it is about what happens between the lines.

The return of baseball is supposed to mean we made it through winter and emerged victorious. When winter insists on a long Minnesota goodbye, it’s not just a little depressing.

It just seems flat-out strange to be at a ballgame when everyone is bundled up, like someone tampered with our internal clocks.


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