In the world of baseball, if there is one tribute,
one definitive acknowledgement of respect and admiration,
it's the tip of the cap.

Between generals there's the salute. Bullfighters sweep back their cloaks.
Among knights it's the lowering of the lance.

Ballplayers, they go to the cap.

And as such, hat in hand, we salute our fans.

You in the upper deck with your scorecard, lucky pencil and Hunter jersey.
You with your kids and your gloves and your diaper bag.
You, who drove 4 and one half hours to get here, and didn't leave till it was announced that the totals on the board are correct.

Your Minnesota Twins tip their hats to you.

Because of you, in the top of the eighth with two outs,
when you stand, so too does the hair on the back of our necks.
You can't possibly know how important it is to hear you reverberating inside our helmets as we dig into the box with a runner on third.

Thank you. Thank you since Killebrew and Oliva and Carew.
Thank you since Hrbek and Puckett and Morris.
And thank you since yesterday.

You know what?

In what seems a quick as a Nathan fastball, we'll be back.
With leather and wood and heart.

We'll look up, and what will we see?

You.

The best fans supporting the greatest game in the world.
Thanks for making us proud to be a Minnesota Twin.

Let's go get 'em in 2005.