Glen Perkins
Look, I’ve been around. I’ve seen the pregame fireworks, the emotional goodbyes, the skyline sunsets. But when Glen Perkins started talking about smuggling sandwiches into the Metrodome as a kid and then closing out the All-Star Game at Target Field 20 years later? That’s when my baseball heart did a cartwheel. This guy lived the literal dream—from watching Puckett to standing on the mound in front of every neighbor, every childhood friend, every fan who ever said “he’s one of us.” You want to understand what a ballpark can mean to a person? You read this. You feel this.
What's this experience like for you, just being a hometown boy playing for the team overall?
I always just felt like I went to work like everybody else. I just went to the Metrodome, or I went to Target Field. I got to sleep in my own bed, pitch in front of fellow Minnesotans, and then go home. It doesn't get better than that. Every time I ran out on that field, I knew the people watching me were the same as me. I was just lucky to be the one they were watching.
When you look back on that time now… how cool is that to have that be your life?
Could you script it better? Maybe if I were Joe Mauer. But I got a book in fifth grade, "If I Were a Minnesota Twin," with a cut-out for your face. I got to live that. I was that kid watching Puckett and Herr from above the baggie, smuggling sandwiches into the Metrodome. And then I became one of those guys.
What did Target Field do for baseball in Minneapolis?
It made it feel like we had a big-league team. You'd go around the league and see beautiful stadiums—then come home to the Metrodome. No kitchen, bad food, tiny clubhouse. Then we got Target Field—modern, well-planned, incredible views. And for the first time, everyone got to feel how magical a Minnesota summer really is. It transformed the fan experience. Everyone loves it.
What were the adjustments like for you, pitching in a new ballpark?
I missed the Metrodome mound—it was my favorite. But Target Field was worth the trade. Sure, the wind, sun, and mound dryness were things to adapt to, but this is how baseball's supposed to be played. Outdoors, on grass, not in a warehouse.
You made the All-Star team in 2014, in Minnesota. What was that like?
I was sitting with Phil Hughes when someone came in and said Gardy needed to see me. I knew then—I made the team. I was our hometown guy. I felt pressure to represent. I drank like seven Red Bulls before the game because I was so amped up. When I finally took the field, it hit me—everyone was cheering for me. It was the coolest moment of my life.
What do you remember most from the game?
That moment on the mound. I looked at Kurt Suzuki and said, “Can you believe this shit?” And he just replied, deadpan: “One, three, wiggle, second sign, shake first.” We went right into routine like it was any old game. I got a flyout, a groundout, and a strikeout. But what I remember most is everything before the first pitch—the anticipation, the fans, the adrenaline.
How about Mariano and Jeter’s final All-Star Games?
Being in the bullpen with Mo was surreal. Leyland handed him the pregame speech. Then in 2014, I had to ask Jeter for a signed ball… not for me, for my daughters to meet Idina Menzel. It was the most embarrassing moment of my career. But he was awesome about it. I actually told him the story again in Cooperstown.
What do you remember about Gardy’s 1,000th win in Cleveland?
That was about him, not me. We weren’t a great team, but we celebrated each other’s firsts—first hits, first wins. Gardy’s 1,000th was special. You don’t win 1,000 games by accident. We all knew that. We trashed the visiting clubhouse. That’s how you know it was a good one.
~~~
More from Glen Perkins
NOTE: The above was edited for clarity and length.
You can read the full transcript here.