The Twins won, the Wild lost, the Wolves stayed alive — and Patrick Reusse covered it all

There is nothing to base this on other than anecdotal evidence from observations and conversations, but I've come to the conclusion in the past couple of years that generous views toward our sports entities have taken over the younger generations of Minnesota's fandom.

Generation Z is alleged to date to 1995 … and 28 years doesn't quite cover all the optimistic views that are out there these days.

More so, it probably can be traced to when the internet and do-it-all cell phones took over Young America's lives — starting with Facebook in 2004, and then Onward, Ho!

Maybe a decade ago, I was talking with Dan Shaughnessy, then and now a Boston Globe sports columnist, and he said:

"You realize we aren't in a unique position anymore, don't you? There are now roughly 350,000 sports columnists in this country."

That was a low estimate for people involved in various forms of social media to send out sports opinions that gain attention.

The sports teams also started creating more sophisticated websites where they could break news and massage their messages in the most positive manner imaginable.

The blogosphere is infinite and analytics have replaced the eye test (Carlos Correa is an exceptional shortstop, and I don't care what made-up range numbers you want to show me) and somehow it all has added up to this:

In an era of unprecedented political hate, fueled largely by my dottering generation for sure, we have seen created the most supportive fan movement this sports columnist has ever been forced to encounter.

And Sunday was a big day in the Twin Cities for this — with the Twins home against Washington at 1:10 p.m.; the heroes of the moment, the Wild, trying to put Dallas in a huge hole some time after 5:30 p.m.; and the Timberwolves trying to avoid the first 4-0 sweep in their history some time after 8:30 p.m.

Sunday's mission was to see hunks of all.

The observing of sports fandom actually started on Saturday evening, after writing a review of the Twins-Washington game. The final was 10-4 for the lowly Nationals, and it must be admitted the offering did not come with a positive spin.

The Twins had given away Byron Buxton jerseys of reasonable quality for this game, providing a fairly good turnout for a game where the windchill was 25 degrees.

Of course, we don't call it windchill — it's "feels-like" now, I'm told — but it was miserable. I could tell that through the closed pressbox windows.

Heading back home around 7 p.m. Saturday, I stopped at the 1029 Bar on Marshall Street … a couple of blocks down from Elsie's, just off Broadway.

This is the official Reusse source for takeout of lobster roll (her), lamb sandwich (me) and clam chowder (also me).

It was jam-packed madness in there with blue-collar customers. I stepped through the side door and there was an immediate conversation with a near-40 guy overcome with Wild fever.

He was not aware the Twins had been pounded, and did not care.

Later, I was sitting at the bar, taking up valuable space drinking a Diet Coke and waiting for the takeout bag. Two guys that had come from the Twins game started a conversation.

They were 60 or so, old enough to remember four Super Bowl losses and other tragedies, and they had just frozen themselves watching the Twins get humiliated by one of baseball's worst rosters.

"Bad today, but they're going to be OK, I think,'' George said. "They need more hitting. [Jorge] Polanco should help. I'd like see [Alex] Kirilloff back in the lineup. That kid can hit.''

Kind-hearted fellow that I am, I didn't have the heart to tell him Kirilloff had left Friday's Saints game in St. Paul after two at-bats and wasn't in the lineup Saturday.

I did not want to cause "surgically repaired wrist" panic. And, fortunately, that subsided when Kirilloff was back in the Saints lineup and batting second Sunday.

Heading for the ballpark Sunday, and I was driving down First Avenue, and there it was across from the Loon, an attention-grabbing billboard with Tony Oliva sharing space with the boss at Spire Financial.

Seeing Tony with that smile it was again unimaginable that the greatest ambassador in Twins history is 84 years entertaining.

An hour later, I saw him in the Target Field pressbox and said: "You are looking darn handsome on that billboard, Tony."

Oliva gestured as if making his hair and face more beautiful, took a couple of steps and then said:

"Hey! Did you see David's fight last night? Two minutes."

Tony threw some rights and lefts at the air and said: "Boom, boom, boom. Two minutes. Put him to sleep."

He was referring to David Morrell Jr., the Cuban defector that quickly became a holder of a world title belt when fighting out of Minneapolis.

Tony and his wife, Gordette — as they have a tendency to do when Cubans arrive from Oliva's homeland — have played host to Morrell and friends for dinner at their home in Bloomington.

Oliva also had started sitting near ringside for Morrell's fights at the Minneapolis Armory. Saturday's bout was Morrell's first in Las Vegas.

He had a prime spot and on huge Showtime card and knocked out Yamaguchi Falcao suddenly — ''destroyed" was the action verb — to retain a 168-pound title.

Bailey Ober, called up from St. Paul to start for the Twins, had a shaky first inning and his team fell behind 1-0. It stayed that way into the fourth, keeping alive the possibility the Twins could not only be the first team to lose a series in 2023 to the Nationals — that they could get swept by Washington's anonymous lineup.

Finally, Jorge Polanco homered off the foul pole and Michael A. Taylor went deeper to give the Twins a 2-1 lead in the fourth. Which brings up an addendum to that column written from Saturday's game:

It was stated shortstop Correa was the Twins' lone exceptional fielder. Taylor is also an exceptional fielder in center; it's just that he's not quite Byron Buxton at full health, which we could never see again from the now-daily DH.

Ober lasted until two outs in the sixth, then came the still-trustworthy back of the bullpen: Caleb Thielbar for four outs, and Jorge López and Jhoan Duran for three apiece.

Polanco, now back from knee inflammation, knocked in another run to make it a 3-1 final … in a sprightly 2 hours, 13 minutes.

And there was early good news from St. Paul: Kirilloff played first base, homered twice and drove in five runs in an 8-5 victory for the Saints at CHS Field.

Hopeful as that appeared to be, there was another event taking place a mile up the street in the Saintly City that was due to receive a significantly higher level of attention.

There was an Uber ride leaving Minneapolis at 2:50 p.m. It was extremely rapid across I-94 and required only one bellow of "Get in the right lane!" from the back seat as we were approaching the Kellogg Boulevard exit.

López was finishing up the eighth as I walked into Tom Reid's Hockey Pub. The hockey part of the title was being taken very seriously, since the NHL playoffs were on most of the numerous televisions.

The West Seventh joint was packed with loyalists wearing a variety of Wild jerseys, a good share of which were of recent vintage, with No. 97 and Kaprizov on the back.

The large screen in a back room did feature the Twins, although not for long as Duran put away the Nationals quickly in the ninth, pausing to strike out only one.

Legend had it, the Wild crowd for Friday night's 5-1 blowout of Dallas was as psychotically energetic as any to jam into the Xcel Energy Center in this team's wildly successful history of packing the house.

That level was going to be tough to match for those heading into Sunday's game, for the handicap of three fewer hours of drinking time before the late afternoon faceoff.

Still, the beer-drinking effort inside Tom Reid's was impressive, and the conversation among the rowdies walking the two-plus blocks toward the X was filled with wackiness.

As it turned out, the people making the trip from the Twins game to the main event in St. Paul included Buxton and Correa. They were given the "Let's Play Hockey" honors and did so with proper enthusiasm.

I can't compare what came next to the wildness of the crowd for Game 3 on Friday, but one thing the Game 4 audience did display:

The fans were in good form for shouting the required insult at their latest villain — that being Ryan Suter, a defensive staple here for nine seasons.

Suter is now 38 and on the top defensive pair for Dallas. He delivered a cheap crosscheck to Kaprizov in Game 1 and Wild fans are unlikely to forgive him until … forever.

The former North Stars in Dallas and the North Stars' replacement in Minnesota offered a less-than-dynamic first period.

Dallas seemed intent on a bit more physical presence than it was said to have offered in Game 3. The Stars also hit a couple of posts early, and then the teams settled in for a scoreless first period.

The second period revolved around the Wild's Marcus Foligno. He's a lightning rod-type, and he had his own version of a hat trick:

He failed to score on a breakaway that included a chance at a rebound. He drew a penalty and Tyler Seguin scored on the power play to give a Dallas a 1-0 lead at 15:22 of the period.

And then he delivered a thump to defenseman Thomas Harley behind the net, and Harley retaliated in rather idiotic fashion to give the refs a chance to asses a penalty on him.

Kaprizov failed to convert on a breakaway earlier, and then missed an open net from the right side on the power play.

One-zip going into the third period. I smell overtime.

(Almost. That darn Oettinger. Although Wild fans can always do the Minnesota thing and blame the refs.)

The Timberwolves returned down 2-0 to No. 1 seed Denver on Friday night and there were enough believers to fill Target Center all the way to those seldom-needed rows up there by the ceiling.

The Wolves hung around for a time, and then were outclassed again — this time by 120-111.

That made the hole 3-0, inescapable for all previous NBA teams to face that deficit in seven-game playoff series. And that reality caused some gaps up high for Game 4 on Sunday night.

The Wolves draped white T-shirts over all seats on Friday and did so again Sunday night. They could have saved the effort on two or three thousand chairs, but the areas of blue emptiness would have been too obvious amidst the white.

One-vs.-eight is supposed to be a foregone conclusion as a series. The absences of Jaden McDaniels and Naz Reid — two of the Wolves' top six players — due to injury made it more of a mismatch.

The older generation of Wolves followers (not those young, positive fans) fired some shots at coach Chris Finch and maybe the highest-ever level of vitriol at Karl-Anthony Towns.

Hint: The bottom of Star Tribune stories online remain an excellent place to still find sports outrage, such as:

"Fire Finch.'' "KAT's soft; trade him."

From here, Finch is at least an asset to this team, and possibly a strength. And as much as the whiny version of KAT has bothered me through the years, he has given this series total effort, even though the chance to win a seven-gamer is basically nil.

KAT had a couple of bad nights. He had some bad turnovers. But he has put his head down and fought to the basket repeatedly.

Even when he was completely mugged by Aaron Gordon in the first half on Friday night, KAT did not permit himself what would have been a valid outburst and technical. He allowed Finch to take a slice out of the no-call official.

The Wolves could have went away quietly on Sunday night, along with 2-3,000 of their ticket buyers, but they gave it a full shot and avoided the sweep with a 114-108 overtime victory.

And while we're at it here, there's a need to address another column offered up over the weekend that has me feeling sheepish:

On Friday night, in addressing the Nuggets' advantage in talent, it was mentioned that Tom Thibodeau's biggest mistake wasn't the Jimmy Butler trade — as many believe — but drafting Kris Dunn at No. 5 in 2016 when his other option was Jamal Murray, now a seven-year veteran and Denver star.

The "Thibs' mistake" part made its way to headlines. And to Twitter summaries.

So, Thibs, I didn't mean it. You're my guy. You're proving mettle as a basketball genius right now with the Knicks, leading an excellent Cleveland team 3-1 in a 4-5 series in the rugged East.

Allow me to sign off for this big day in Minnesota sports with this:

"Go, Thibs."