Seattle at Twins. Twins 4, Seattle 3.

Now that Mr. Brad William Radke, is more like it. This is why you make the big bucks—to take an inferior team and mow them down. To pitch against Freddy Garcia and outclass him. To go into the ninth inning with a shutout. (What might happen after that we need not discuss; all is forgotten. Forgiven.) To win the game for us, giving us our first back-to-back victory since April.

This is who you are supposed to be. This is who we need you to be. And, forgive me Brad, but this isn't exactly who you've been. You were really bad that one game against Detroit, and other than that you've just been mediocre, and—again, forgive me—usually mediocre costs us a lot less.

Enough, I say, Brad. Enough of the sketchy outings with the crooked-number innings and the what-in-the-sam-hill-is-wrong-with-that-boy postgame head-scratching. Enough with the Rad-or-Bad pregame metaphysical musings. You're our anchor. Our rock. Our ace. When our younger pitchers are struggling, you stand up and say, "Look, Lohse, Look Johan. This is how it's done. You have it in you, we've seen it. Now come on. You're next." When our bullpen is coming off a Titanic-esque week, you say, "Fear not, my good sirs. Tonight, you may rest. I am in charge. Put your feet up. There you go. Let me rub them for you. Isn't that nice?"

The last three starts have been great. Three in a row Brad, that's what you're supposed to do. There you go. Put up your feet. Rest a while. Think of what you did, and what you are going to do next time. Because this is how it's done.