After watching it live in 1991, and declaring that Kirby Puckett was a bona-fide baseball legend while jumping up and down and jamming my finger in my St. Paul apartment, I watched tape of Puck’s Game 6 homer, and believe that he called his shot!

I watched it over and over again. Conclusion: Kirby Puckett knew he was gonna win that game for the Twins, and he deilvered. He is in the Hall of Fame because of that moment. Read on…

Birdhouse in Your Soul by the band “They Might Be Giants” is one of my all time favorite sings. I almost forgot about this song, until a recent episode of Showtime’s Weeds reminded me of how cool it is.

I remember jammin out the FLOOD album back in the early 90′s, and putting this song on almost every mix tape I made for that era. From Wikipedia I learned that Birdhouse it “tells the story, in very abstract terms, of a nightlight with the appearance of a blue canary, from the point of view of the nightlight itself.”

It’s definitely a happy song with a positive psychological message. As the song fades, the line “while you’re at it, keep the nightlight on inside the birdhouse in your soul” echoes the chorus, essentially telling the listener to keep all the good things that provide light in their soul protected.

It’s a great tune for your kids to jam out with, and provides a parent the opportunity to read the lyrics with their kids, and help them find that “Happy Place.”

This is a story about Kirby Puckett. I wrote this back in 2001, and it’s one of many reasons why “The Puck” was so beloved by Twins fans and the baseball world.

We all have that one special hat in our collection. Baseball fans know. It’s the odd one with all the sweat marks in it, the hat that you would never wear in public.  For some sentimental reason, you keep it on your shelf because it’s the one that reminds you most of why you love the game.

Mine is an old, red trucker’s style hat from the 1986 Watertown SD VFW team. This is that hat’s s story.

It was toward the end of 1986 baseball season. I just returned back to the Twin Cities for my senior year of college, after a summer of coaching baseball and delivering pizzas.

True to form, the first thing I would do after checking into the dorms, was get to the Metrodome for my fix of Major League baseball.

I put on that VFW had, threw on a Twins t-shirt, and drove my 1971 Pontiac Catalina to the 5^th & Chicago in downtown Minneapolis to watch batting practice as soon as the gates opened up.

I loved sitting in an almost empty dome, listening to the crack and echoes of the bats hitting the balls. I would always try to get in the first row right by the Twins bullpen in Section 134.

The Twins were just finishing up with their pre-game batting practice and I was in earshot of the players as they strolled around the left field area, stretching and doing wind sprints.

Most of the players had already worked their way back to the Twins 3rd base dugout, but as I looked straight ahead, I saw Kirby Puckett walking slowly toward me. Our eyes met, and I couldn’t hold back the urge to bark out,

“Hey PUCK!”

He gave me a quick head nod of affirmation, smiled, and then much to my shock, started walking right up to me.

“Hey! Hey! What’s UP my man?”

Was this really happening?  I was caught off guard. After all the years of waving and yelling salutations to Major League players from the stands, this was the first time that one had actually acknowledged me, and was now walking up to come chat. Oh and did I tell you it was it was KIRBY?

“Where are you from with that hat on?” he asked in reference to the red VFW baseball cap that I was wearing.

“Oh this hat?” I questioned, taking it off to verify that it was in fact the red hat of the team that I had coached that summer.

“This is from my VFW team that I coached in Watertown South Dakota,” I nervously responded, not knowing what to do or say next.

“Well, do you want me to sign it?” Kirby suggested as he reached towards me expecting that it was an autograph for which I had beckoned him. In fact, that thought had not crossed my mind. I was caught completely off guard by this young Twin’s willingness to come over to just say “hi.”

“Ah, sure… ah ya…here!”

I handed him my hat, absent of having anything else for him to sign. Being a poor college student on a restricted budget it was all I could do to afford the Twins ticket, gas money and parking for the trip from my St. Paul campus. I did not have the money to buy a game day scorecard, yearbook, media guide or new Twins hat.

Puck looked over my sweaty hat for a split second and then nailed me with this ultimate stumper question.

“Ah, man, you got a PEN or sharpie or something?”

I was embarrassed to admit to this potential MVP candidate, who was on the verge of finishing the season with over a .320 average and 30 plus homers, that I did not have a writing utensil.

“No, I ah… actually don’t have anything that writes on me.”

For some reason, I turned flush red with inadequacy. It felt like I was taking a math test that I hadn’t studied for. I wasn’t prepared, and didn’t know what to do next. I could just feel this awkward situation getting weirder. I was sure in my mind that Puck would just walk away, leaving me with no proof of this brief and completely unexpected moment. I think Kirby sensed my uneasiness.

“Hey, that’s okay man!  Just wait it out a few seconds here and this area will be full of kids wanting autographs. AND THEY WILL HAVE PENS!”   Puck laughed, roaring that boisterous giggle that all Twins fans would grow to love over the next decade.

“We’ll just steal one of their pens okay?” he joked.  I laughed with him.  The tension was broke, and Kirby proceeded to strike up a conversation as if we were old friends from his home in Chicago.

“So how did OUR VFW in Watertown do this year?”

It felt like he genuinely cared. I felt humble, and could not believe that I was participating in a baseball chat with Kirby Puckett. This guy was going out of his way to make sure that, not only would I get an autograph, but he was going to chat about my baseball team with me too! I don’t even remember what I told him about the team, but with just those few words and interaction, this man had won a fan for life. In my book, from this point in 1986, Puck could do no wrong in his baseball career.

Within a few minutes, just as he predicted, several kids were all over the area and they did indeed have pens. Kirby jokingly taunted me as he inked his signature onto that ratted out VFW hat,

“See, I told you they would have a pen for you, and it’s even a good one… A SHARPIE!”  He laughed again, in that trademarked bubbly Hall of Fame laugh. He handed my hat back to me, grinned, nodded, and started working the crowd of adoring kids.

It made me feel like that kid in the Mean Joe Green, Coca Cola commercial.  As I walked away with my new autograph, I could see #34 smiling and laughing and teasing the kids as signed what looked like thousands of autographs. I could hear high-pitched screams of delight from the kids as he made each and every one of them feel special.

Kirby signed for every single person he saw, laughing and smiling the whole time. The entire scene fascinated me and it all started when I yelled, “Hey Puck!”

I realize of course that it really wasn’t me that started that autograph session. It was Kirby.  I saw him repeat that ritual every time I went to a Twins game, realizing how truly special this ballplayer was.

Kirby IS, WAS and ALWAYS WILL BE baseball in Minnesota. His accolades on the field, and induction to Cooperstown are just confirmation of what we Twins fans knew all along, he loved the game, and the people who watched it.

Kirby had many VFW hat days with many fans over the years. Each time, Puck added a more important stat to his resume, “Fans Won Over!”  This stat is more important than any baseball achievement on the field.

My hat now resides on my trophy case in my little sports bar basement. The autograph on the bottom of the lid is barely visible these days, but the hat remains, and will passed on to my son. It represents something that both Kirby and I share, a love of the game. That cannot ever be replaced.

With their first World Series title in 26 years, the Minnesota Twins finally earned league-wide respect. As second baseman Steve Lombardozzi put it, they could no longer be called the “Twinkies.”

The Twins, who were the Washington Senators until 1961, edged the Cardinals, 4-2, in Game 7 of the 1987 World Series to capture the franchise’s first championship since 1924.

Every day from now to Spring Training, MLB.com Live will air a classic game on Baseball’s Best. Game 7 of the 1987 World Series can be seen on Wednesday at 10 a.m. CT.

The Twins trotted out Frank Viola for the third time in the series, this time in a rematch of Game 1 against Cardinals rookie Joe Magrane. In Game 7, Viola outdueled Magrane for the second time, throwing eight innings of two-run ball in his second straight start on three days’ rest. For his efforts, Viola earned World Series Most Valuable Player honors.

Though St. Louis tagged the left-hander for two runs in the second, taking a 2-0 lead, Minnesota slowly chipped away and claimed a 3-2 edge in the sixth. Dan Gladden’s RBI double in the eighth provided closer Jeff Reardon a 4-2 cushion, not that he needed the extra help. Reardon pitched a 1-2-3 ninth to wrap it up. Minnesota finally had a professional sports championship to call its own.

Still, the title wasn’t totally convincing for a few reasons.

The Twins went 85-77 in the regular season, the worst record for any World Series champion at the time. The Cardinals, who won the National League pennant for the third time in six years, were hindered in the series by injuries to star hitters Jack Clark and Terry Pendleton.

Also, if it had been 1986 or 1988, Game 7 would have been played at Busch Stadium. Before the All-Star Game determined home-field advantage, the American League champion earned the honors in odd-numbered years regardless of regular-season success. That gave the Twins a huge edge in hosting the final game, given the home team had won each of the first six contests and they had hit .184 in the three losses at St. Louis.

So the critics certainly had ammunition, not that the 55,000 screaming fans waving “Homer Hankies” cared.

“It doesn’t matter how we did it, as long as we did it,” third baseman Gary Gaetti told the Associated Press afterward.

For the first time in World Series history, the home team won every game. The series was played partially indoors for the first time, too. It marked the beginning of plenty of October baseball in the Metrodome.

Manager Tom Kelly piloted the club to another Game 7 triumph in the 1991 World Series and, 10 years later, handed the reins to Tom Gardenhire, who made Minnesota an annual playoff contender at the turn of the millennium. Clearly, Lombardozzi was onto something.

“We are not the Twinkies anymore,” he famously shouted. “I don’t ever want to hear that again. We are the Minnesota Twins.”