And what of the Twins, who play their home games all of eight miles from my house? Sorry. I shed no tears when the Twins lose, except when those losses come against the Yankees. I'll never forgive the Twins and their worthless excuse of a ballpark for snatching the 1991 World Series from my Braves. All those innings I've since spent watching plastic baseball on a carpet under the baneful influence of the designated hitter rule have endeared neither the Twins nor the Metrodome to me. And though my time in Minnesota is rapidly approaching my time in Georgia (13 years versus 15), the Minnesota years contribute absolutely nothing to my sports team loyalties. This has more to do with the psychology of identity and tribal imprinting than with the (non)impact of my vocational affiliations on my avocation as a sports fan, which is to say that these musings on the Twins belong on BioLaw rather than MoneyLaw.
But never fear. I harbor no animosity toward the American League Central. Any division that harbors the longsuffering Kansas City Royals deserves a little respect. Besides, another Central team lives yet, and as of this moment they have some urgent business. Go Tigers; beat the Yankees.