Royce Lewis didn’t think about what he’d do during the player introductions. He instinctively turned around to face the crowd and threw his hands in the air. The sellout crowd at Target Field reacted with an explosion of cheers. It cut through the natural anxiety that the 38,450 people in attendance were feeling. The weight of an 18-game playoff losing streak. The dread that something will go wrong.
Lewis does that. He creates good feelings. He hasn’t let two ACL injuries and other ailments get him down. He has always been a ray of light in a city with a dark postseason history. Turning around and engaging the crowd is more common in football. Think about the linebacker or star receiver bounding jubilantly out of the tunnel, amping up the crowd before a big game. Most of Lewis’s teammates walked out of the dugout, greeted their teammates, and waited for the next name to be called.
By engaging the crowd, Lewis told everybody, I got this.
“Honestly, this atmosphere, truly, like when I tell you it was electric,” said Lewis. “It brought that electricity into my body. I felt different. My heart was beating — it was the most nervous game, exciting game I’ve ever played in my life. It was so much fun.”
Lewis hit a two-run home run off of Toronto Blue Jays starter Kevin Gausman in the first inning. Then he hit another off the ribbon display in right field, above the scoreboard that has consumed many a right-handed hitter’s deep fly. Lewis has done it all season. He’s done it his whole career. Lewis has hit five grand slams, four this year. He hit .300/.317/.500 in his injury-abbreviated rookie season and .309/.372/.548 coming off the ACL injury. Lewis has been incandescent when healthy and can still hit with an injured hamstring. It’s what Lewis does. He creates good feelings.
The pitching had to take over after Lewis gave the Twins an early lead. Pablo López did his job, holding Toronto’s potent lineup to five hits and a run in 5⅔ innings. But Baldelli called to the bullpen in the sixth after Bo Bichette singled with one out, Alejandro Kirk drew a two-out walk, and Kevin Kiermaier drove in a run. In came North St. Paul’s Louie Varland. “I felt like the pressure, the emotion, everything,” he said. “I was kind of expecting to feel more. But I think it’s probably a good thing that I didn’t feel too jacked up.”
Varland said he treated it like any other outing. It was tense in the bullpen before he warmed up, but multiple relievers said it felt like any other game. There’s always pressure. There’s always tension. Ultimately, they were excited for whoever’s name Baldelli called. Still, Varland entered the sixth inning needing an out with men on first and second. Matt Chapman fouled off Varland’s first offering, a 99 mph fastball. He connected on the second one, sending it deep toward the right-centerfield wall. “It wasn’t any good thoughts initially,” Varland said with a short laugh. “I saw Michael slow down and get a good read on it and eventually catch it. It was a big relief, I’ll tell you that.”
That would be Michael A. Taylor, the center fielder who stepped in for the injured Byron Buxton all year. Taylor made a sliding catch on Kirk’s screaming liner to left-center in the second inning, then bailed Varland and the Twins out in the sixth. “Shout out to Michael A. Taylor,” exclaimed Varland. “That thing was almost out of here. [It] was a huge relief seeing him catch that ball.”
Northfield’s Caleb Thielbar pitched a one-two-three inning in the seventh. Griffin Jax worked around Vladimir Guerrero Jr.’s leadoff double in the eighth, and Jhoan Duran walked Daulton Varsho, the 9-hitter, but got George Springer to ground out to end the game. It occasionally got tense, but the crowd was loud and supportive throughout. The impending rain became threatening. Would it delay the game and change the momentum? What if a game that ended in two hours and 40 minutes dragged long into the night?
The rain started creeping in, moving from Maple Grove to Robbinsdale. The sky darkened enough to make Duran’s cell phone-lit, fire-breathing intro simultaneously spectacular and disconcerting, which was appropriate in its own way. Like Minnesota’s 18-game postseason losing streak, the rain lingered ominously close to the game. But the Twins staved it off. Lewis scored early enough. The pitching quickly dispatched Toronto’s hitters, ending a losing streak that dated back to 2004.
“Fans here support this organization through and through,” said Baldelli. “Generations do. They love the team, and they want to enjoy things like they just saw. I thought this place was going to split open and melt, honestly. Fans took over the game.”
It all started with Lewis’ pregame introduction. By turning to the crowd and waving his hands, he fanned the flames of a fire that had grown dormant with each playoff loss. His first home run gave them permission to cheer relentlessly and unabashedly, which helped the pitching staff. Suddenly, Toronto’s hitters felt the pressure. In the past, Twins pitchers have privately complained that the crowd seemed tense and wasn’t engaged enough. It would help if they got loud and distracted the hitters. The counter? Something bad always happens. Therefore, it’s hard to let loose in the biggest moments.
Not with Lewis, though. He makes good things happen.
