If you’re a Minnesota Twins fan, January has a way of feeling quiet. The holidays are gone, the roster is mostly settled (whether you like it or not), and spring training is still far enough away to feel theoretical. Yet, every year, the same emotional journey unfolds between the first offseason quotes and the first pitch that actually counts.
It is not linear. It is not healthy. But it is predictable. These are the five stages of Twins fandom between January 1 and Opening Day.
Stage One: Rational Acceptance
This stage usually hits right after the calendar flips. The big free agents are gone. The Twins have not made the splash some fans hoped for, but you’ve talked yourself into understanding it.
You read the payroll context. You understand the TV situation. You remind yourself that last year’s plan didn’t work, anyway. You tell yourself that internal improvements are real and that smart teams don’t always need to make noise.
You nod along when someone says flexibility. You say things like ‘value’ and ‘depth’ unironically. You convince yourself that this offseason was fine, actually. It is calm here. Briefly.
Stage Two: Prospect Inflation Season
By late January, rationality gives way to hope via proximity. You start rereading minor-league stat lines. You remember that player development exists. Every prospect is now one adjustment away. The flaws are fixable. The timelines are aggressive, but fair. You begin saying phrases like, “If everything clicks.”
You mentally pencil two prospects into the Opening Day roster, even though you know better. You talk yourself into believing that this farm system has more answers than questions, because it needs to. You start waking up reluctantly after dreaming of a Walker Jenkins walk-off home run.
This is when you say things like, “The floor is higher than people think.”
Stage Three: Every Player Is in the Best Shape of Their Lives
Spring training arrives, and suddenly, the most critical development of the offseason is conditioning. Everyone looks stronger. Everyone looks leaner. Everyone had a great winter. A player you’ve watched struggle with durability for three seasons is now moving better than ever. A pitcher added muscle. A hitter cleaned up his swing path. The word accountability appears.
You tell yourself that health changes everything. You believe that this roster just needed a typical offseason. You ignore the fact that this stage happens every year and means exactly the same thing every time. Still, it feels good. It always does.
Stage Four: Lineup Construction Obsession
March is for decisions. You begin building lineups in your head that feel balanced and deep. There are matchups. There is versatility. Some platoons finally make sense.
You convince yourself that there are more good players than spots. You imagine a rotation that just needs health. You start using the word ‘sneaky’. This is the peak of belief. You can see the path. You can explain it to others. You begin to think the Twins might actually be better than last year. You schedule your Opening Day plans.
Stage Five: Opening Day Amnesia
By the time the season starts, everything before it disappears. The concerns fade. The context resets.
The Twins are 0-0. This year is its own thing. You remember why you do this in the first place. No matter how it goes from there, you have arrived. The journey resets next January. And when it does, you will be ready to rationalize it all over again.