FORT MYERS, FLA. – It's a good thing I no longer drink pop. If a visitor ever opens a carbonated beverage in the Twins clubhouse, the hiss will drown out all other sounds.
This spring, the Twins clubhouse is almost as quiet as their lineup.
That might be irrelevant. It might be generational. This is certain: It feels familiar. Being around the clubhouse this spring was like watching reruns of a show you hate.
Not to preach about the old days, but in the old days the Twins clubhouse was part finishing school, part vaudeville act.
Kirby Puckett would take charge of young outfielders and propel a stream of comedy that made players want to arrive early and stay late. Torii Hunter learned from Puckett and reprised his act. Johan Santana gathered Spanish-speaking players around him to tell jokes and talk ball.
Corey Koskie placed ice in David Ortiz's underwear so Ortiz wouldn't notice the peanut butter in his jeans. One of Ron Gardenhire's first acts as manager was to trick Ortiz into hitting an exploding golf ball.
Every good Twins team in the past 30 years has featured large personalities.
The other day I walked into the 2014 spring training clubhouse. Two writers, waiting for interviews, were whispering, because to speak in full voice would have been like setting off a cherry bomb in a library. A few pitchers were playing cards at the center table. Some players were working out or doing drills. The remaining players in the clubhouse were all sitting at their lockers, staring at their phones.
