Deep Cover: Target Field Job Fair

I had to pretend I was interested in laundering sweaty jock straps. It was the quickest way of entering the new home of the Twins after two years of watching the construction from afar. It all sounded so romantic.... not so much the jock strap thing, but the deep undercover reporter idea. I imagined a rogue journalist, bitter because he and his blog associates had never been invited to take a construction tour of Target Field. He'd get his revenge while posing as a jobless, scruffy-looking proletarian (quite a stretch,) and waltz inside the walls of the sparkling new stadium, taking spy-style photos all along.

security personnel recognized my spy goggles immediately

Delaware North, the company the Twins hired to run their food service, held a job fair yesterday with the intention of hiring 900 locals for a wide variety of jobs. Myself and three other associates of Alright Hamilton shared the dream of getting this sneak preview of Target Field, and doing it in awesome secret agent style - - applying for gross jobs we didn't want. As it turned out, the name TARGET FIELD JOB FAIR was completely misleading.


Instead of being whisked inside Target Field toward stunning views of the diamond, we were left standing in the cold in the open-air skyway above 7th street. If we had waited much longer, we would have started burning our resumés for warmth.



Instead of Tom Kelly greeting us at the door to deliver a speech, there was a security guard preventing us from seeing anything sweet. I guess we were on the outside edge of the Legends Club, but we didn't catch a glimpse of anything. We were hoarded in groups of 20 down a dark stairwell to the basement, where we waited for our name to be called...

Instead of corn dogs and cheese curds, like any good fair would offer, they had nothing. They didn't even have water. And I know some of those folks were getting hungry toward hour three.

Instead of inviting us to run around on the playing field, they handed us a drug test form. I was offered a job, although I don't know exactly what the position is yet. My interviewer said I didn't seem like the laundry type. I'm not sure if that's a compliment.

Veins of beer run through the innards of the stadium

Instead of a fun, romantic and exciting spy odyssey, it was just depressing and strange. The harsh lighting, drab basement and the diverse crowd gave the experience a Twilight Zone quality. At times, it felt like a prison or homeless shelter.


But when you see some creepy guy in the Twins dugout, trying to brush dirt off Justin Morneaus' pants, you'll know it's me. Super Spy Laundry Guy.

Mission accomplished. Romantic basements, beautiful experiences, witty conversations, secret photographs, falsified documents and emotional expenses - -all in a hard days work for a blog super spy.