The WGOM

It's Nick Punto Day. Okay. Well then. When I'm lying in my bed in the old folks home and I can't remember whether it was Jack Morris or Frank Viola that won Game 7 of the 1991 World Series, I'll remember Nick Punto. Specifically, I'll remember what an idiot he was to slide into first base. I'll remember his 2007 season, when a hot streak in September got him over the Mendoza line and prevented him from having the lowest seasonal VORP total for a Twin (well, I might not remember exactly that). I'll remember his inability to lay down a successful sacrifice bunt. I'll remember his ridiculous base running error in the 2009 playoffs, when he relied on crowd noise to determine whether the ball got past Derek Jeter. And my roommate will despair as I cry out in a full throated wail, "Effing Punto!" or some such epithet. I don't expect that it will be pleasant for anyone.

Below are some contributions from the WGOM Nation on Mr. Punto. Enjoy. And then vote for your favorite.

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Citizen #1

Gardy’s love for Punto is making me numb
O sure, his fielding is as tight as a drum
But he can’t bunt for a lick
Plus he lacks pop in his stick
And Lord his sliding into first is just plain dumb!

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Citizen #2

Nick Punto is an excellent defensive utility infielder. Unfortunately the Twins play him as a starting infielder and expect him to hit. If he could learn to bunt, and not headfirst slide into first base, he'd be a great guy to have on the bench in later innings when holding onto a lead. As it is, we're paying (and playing) him too much for the awesome Web Gems.

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Citizen #3

Pointless slides at first
Looking like he tries so hard
Perfect whipping boy

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Citizen #4

Nick Punto is a guy that seems impossible to judge. So much of what he has brought to the Twins over the last 6 years have filled the whole spectrum from awesome to putrid. On the surface he has those traits in a player we were all raised to respect; gritty, versatile, fundamendatly sound, good defense, hustle. However as we we look closer (and get older and more cynical) we see that maybe some of that hustle is fake, that sliding into first base is not faster and in fact slower, and for all the talk of fundamentally sound he's just not a very good bunter, and no amount of grit covers up being bad at baseball, etc. Nick was great at 3rd base during the 100+ game run in 2006. He was pretty good at shortstop during the Twins run that fell just short in 2008. But, man was 2007 ugly. I feel I get in arguments standing up for LNP and bashing him in the same week. I guess in the end, I'll remember the positives, a big grand slam he hit at the Dome in 2004, coming home to get a possible go ahead run in game163 (even though at the time I was screaming to turn 2), the big hits he got in Chicago late in 2006, the barehanded webgems where he's just begging to break a rib as he flings himself around the Metrodome turf. And I'll try not to remember that dreadful 2007 season when he threatened to bury the negative VORP number where its never gone before and I would heckle opposing outfielders with chants of "YOU'RE WORSE THAN PUNTO!". He is what he is, a pretty flawed player who has carved out a somewhat long Twins career with a lot of ups and downs but the team has experienced plenty of regular season success. I guess I tip my cap to Nicky, you can't seem to keep him down. And if the organization is going to honor Greg Gagne into its Hall of Fame clearly we've lowered our standards enough to say "Punto isn't awful, he's serviceable"

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Citizen #5

The J.D. Drew of Minnesota.

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Citizen #6

Despite the awful baserunning gaffe to end the Twins' season, I was very impressed with Mr. Punto's work at the plate over the final week or so of the season. The Twins could have been eliminated in any of the final four scheduled games of the regular season plus the one-game tiebreaker. Over these games and the three games of the playoffs, Punto has 33 plate appearances and hit .333/.485/.375/.860. He saw an average of 4.8 pitches per appearance. I think he was batting as well as I have ever seen him bat. Nothing outstanding, but wearing down opposing pitchers with multiple fouls and taking a lot of pitches. See a full breakdown at this link:

http://stickandballguy.com/blog/2009/10/12/nick-puntos-last-eight-games/

There are times when Nick Punto can be frustratingly bad at batting, hitting high fly balls that he's not strong enough to get out of the park (or even over the outfielders), or swinging and missing at high
fastballs. But when he's on like he was at the end of the season, he's using the talents he does have to his advantage. See pitches, get on base. If he can keep up with this strategy (and sticking to his strengths is not one of his strengths), I'd be very happy seeing him get the majority of the starts at 3b.

Oh, and I think he's pretty good with the glove, and loses his head too easily when he's baserunning.

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Citizen #7

I want to preface this by saying that I'm a fairly new-ish fan of the Twins and baseball in general. I started listening to the Twins on the radio fairly regularly back in 2002, 2003 and truly started following the team in 2006. So I am not an expert on baseball, and my understanding of the game is still growing. That being said, I have very strong opinions on Little Nicky Punto. I think that for me, and most other Twins fans, my issues with Nick Punto are mostly based on Gardenhire's insistence on playing him as much as he does. Admittedly in many cases we haven't had a better option, but I think in all of those cases the "no better option" is really the fault of the front office, so I don't think that's an excuse. Punto is a good to great utility man and defensive replacement. Watch him penciled into the lineup card every single day, though, is a little frustrating. Almost as frustrating as watching him try to lay down a bunt. Or making a nice, crisp throw from the hole at short to first base. Yuck.

I could go on, but I imagine plenty of other people will make the other points I would make. So, I'm going to basically sum up my feelings on Nick Punto with a story.

After the frustrating end to the 2006 season, I was totally excited for baseball in 2007. I decided, to fuel my excitement, I would attend in my first Twins Winter Caravan. The Twins on my leg of the Caravan were Joe Nathan and the man of the hour, Nick Punto. I had a good time, and was very excited for the season. After the presentation, I decided I would get in the endless autograph line. I waited for about two hours, but I got to shake the hands of two Twins! I was 24 years old, but I was excited as a little kid. I got Nicky to sign a ball, and I got Joe to sign a ball.

The next day at work, I told a girl who sat across from me about going to the Caravan after being asked how my night was. She seemed disappointed that she didn't know about it, as she would have taken her son. I promised that in 2008 when they came back, I would let her know when it was. When she asked me which players were there the previous night, she seemed deflated. She then told me her son's favorite Twin was #8. My first thought was a sudden thought of WHY!? and my second thought was to tell her I'd bring the ball I got signed to work the next day, and she could give it to her son. She said that I didn't really have to. I insisted that it wasn't a big deal. Since it wasn't.

This past April, I was at my boss/friend's wedding, and this girl, who had quit years earlier, was there. I didn't recognize her at first, but we chatted for a while and caught up. She then asked me if I remember giving her son the Nick Punto signed baseball.

Up until that moment I had completely forgotten about giving him the ball, and in fact, that Nick had even been at the Caravan that year.

I think that sums up my feelings on Nick Punto.

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Citizen #8

Enigma of North
Nick Punto, the Nick Punto
Run through the damn bag

Watching every day
results in so much contempt
Punto: not that bad

Like 6th grade Spanish
Punto sounds like a bad word
it could be much worse

In comparison
A man, a plan, Panama
Nick Punto makes sense.

Dave Cameron likes
Nick Punto more than Kubel
Why do I read them?

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Citizen #9

Little Nick Punto
Our Tiny Superhero
Cannot bunt a lick

LNP-3B?
At least we don't have to suffer
Tony Batista again

Batgirl taught us all
of unicorns and heroes.
Nicky, please don't slide!

A kitten is sav'd
Every time our Nicky
Runs through first base bag

Who needs Eckstein here?
We have a super hero
call'd Nicky Punto

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Citizen #10

"Out"
I saw the small infielder of the Twins run towards first, gritty maddening dirty,
Throwing himself onto the brown dirt at first looking to be called safe;
Heavy-headed spectators burning with the repeated infernal frustration
Of the spacey scrubini of the middle infield.

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Citizen #11 Note: Today is the anniversary of Abe Lincoln's birth.

Lil' Nicky Punto
Shares nothing in common with
Abraham Lincoln

Pariah Punto
Last surviving piranha
Headfirst dives, can't bunt

There once was a scrubini named Punto
Who never could learn to bunt-o.
With his uni and hair mussed
He leaves WGOMers nonplussed,
While Gardy just says "Bingo, bango, bongo."

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Citizen #12 Note: two stories here of considerable length. Fevered!

My grandfather had a saying. It went something like, “If an angry bear attacks you, don’t cower in fear, don’t run away, stand up and fight it. Kill it quickly, and kill it knowing that you are doing it for the right reasons.”

I remember the first time he told me this. I was about eight years old, and had just gotten home from a game. I had pitched, and we had lost. Badly.

“When you kill that bear, you will become stronger. You will become a better man.”

I didn’t get it. I watched Wild America all the time on television, and I loved the bears they showed. My favorite was always when they would wait by a waterfall and pluck salmon out of midair as they swam up the current. I tried to imagine myself running up and stabbing a bear with a sword as it munched on a fish. Why would I want to kill an innocent animal? I wouldn’t.

I looked at grandpa and rolled my eyes.

“I’m not gonna kill a bear.”

He ruffled my hair.

“Sure you will.”

In high school I noticed that scouts were showing up at some of my games, talking to the coaches, clicking stopwatches, writing notes in tiny note pads. One day I saw my grandfather in the stands, talking to one of the scouts. I asked him afterwards what they had talked about.

“Baseball, mostly.”

“Come on grandpa, I’m serious. Did he say anything about me?”

“He said when the bear comes, to kill it.”

“Quit joking around, just give me a yes or no answer.”

He tried to ruffle my hair, but I pushed his hand away.

I went through an angry phase my senior year. My grades slipped. My batting average dropped. I came home in a police car one night. My mom asked my grandfather to have a talk with me.

“Nick, the bear is coming. He’s pissed off. And you are running.”

He placed a hand on my shoulder.

“He’s not going to stop chasing you. He will chase and chase, and he’s not the only bear out there. There will be more in the future, and they will all come after you. But you can kill them, Nick, and if you kill this one bear now, you will know that you are strong enough to face the next one.”

“Damn the bear,” I said in anger.

“Damn the bear,” he gently repeated.

I went to summer school. I lifted weights. I hit doubles and stole third.

Damn the bear.

I went to college. I lifted weights. I hit triples and stole home.

Damn the bear.

The scouts were at my games again, and this time they came to me directly. They made small talk about my classes and grades, dancing around my batting average and 40-yard dash. The Phillies liked me, they said. The Phillies loved me.

My grandfather was there on draft day. He ruffled my hair.

“I killed it,” I said, drunk with joy, “I killed the bear.”

“Yes you did, Nick,” he said, “but there will be others.”

There were others. Damn them all. I laughed in their faces. The life of a minor leaguer is beset with bears of all sizes, but down they went. Damn them all. I climbed my way to the major leagues up a mountain of bloody claws, fat, and fur.

I will never forget the day I was traded to Minnesota. I was visiting with my grandfather in California, dropping off a few signed bats for the neighborhood kids. We sat in the backyard, facing the mountains.

He ruffled my hair, and asked me how many bears I had killed.

“All of them,” I smiled.

He winked at me, and raised his glass of scotch.

“Sometimes it’s okay to let a just few of them get you.”

There was a crash from the neighbor’s yard, then a scream. There was a crash in our yard. There was a scream.

A bear, a grizzly, fully mature, eight feet tall and thousands of pounds, had smashed through the fence. Its muzzle was slick with fresh blood, its claws clotted with torn flesh. It was a killer.

“My God!” my grandfather shouted.

The bear reared on its hind legs and roared. I moved between my grandfather and the bear, silent for one tense moment. I looked down at my hands, realizing that they held one of the bats. Solid maple, the ol’ Louisville Bear-Slugger. The bear roared again, shattering the silence, splattering the lawn with gore.

“Get out of here!” I heard a voice shout me. “For God’s sake, run away!”

I couldn’t tell who was talking, or who they were talking to. All I could see was the bat in my hands and the murderous beast before me. It was only a matter of time before the great thing charged. I gripped the bat so tightly that my hands ached.

My name is Nick Punto and I play baseball for the Minnesota Twins.

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Here's the second offering from Citizen #12.

We was dead men in that Lowry tunnel, we knowed it too. We all knowed. Trapped like rats with greycoats at both ends, smell of burned up bodies make us all go crazy, sound of greycoat laughin make us wet ourselves. Pincy start prayin pretty early and that set us all off makin our testaments. Not Nicky though. Nicky ain’t never set down his gun from his shoulder. When we was all down on our knees cryin all pathetic, good Lord why won’t you save us, Nicky just click a clip into place.

405th light dragoons, the brokest-ass company ever scraped up in the war, all stringy hoppers and freak orphans, and Nicky. Ain’t even in our platoon, just wandered by. All us bottled up under Lowry, with them greycoats ain’t even bother to make a move. They just sit back laughin, drinkin blood, starvin us out or waitin on us to suicide charge. We all broke down and pray with Pincy and Hassan and Moua, pray to whatever, I ain’t even know. Nicky mouth some words but keep both eyes down that barrel, wait for what he knowed was comin.

Pincy ask him, “What you doin here? Who are you?” Ain’t give no real answers, just say he follow a greycoat company from across the river. Say he kill a greycoat for his gun, and kill eight more til they chase him. He got that look in his eye we all seen. He all alone til he find us cowards in Lowry tunnel.

Pincy ask him, “What you do before?” Nicky just shake his head, like it don’t matter anymore. It don’t, but Pincy wanna know.

“Baseball,” Nicky finally say.

The greycoats charge at both ends. Nicky and that greycoat gun keep shootin, Moua and Hassan shootin too, Olafson and Juarez lose it and start runnin at the greys, me crouched down can’t even find the trigger my eyes shut so tight. Pincy next to me holdin my head prayin.

Blood drinkin greycoats scream when they charge, but scream too when they dyin. Nicky had em all screamin. Ain’t nobody shoot so fast as he. He empty that greycoat gun in seconds, reach down and grab my carbine right out my hands and keep shootin.

At the end of it Nicky was standin up over us like a king. Moua was dead, Olafson and Juarez dead too. Pincy shot real bad. Nicky just stand there, covered in greycoat blood and steamin like a newborn calf. Greycoats all piled up everywhere, Hassan walkin round pickin up their guns. We all knowed they gonna charge again, ain’t gonna stop chargin til we dead. Nicky still standin real quiet with his eyes closed and a smile on his face.

“Why you smiling?” Pincy ask, slumped over with all the greycoat bullets in his gut. “What you thinking bout?”

Nicky don’t even open his eyes, just let his smile get wider and wider.

“Baseball,” he finally say.

The Twins have signed Nick Punto to a 2 year, $8 million deal. The Twins have an option for 2011, as well. He will apparently be the starting shortstop.