Twins at Seattle. Mariners 4, Twins 3.

I'm still not entirely sure what happened in the last few moments of today's game. There was a squealing noise, and a kind of distant shouting, and then Batgirl saw something coming out of the corner of her eye. It was coming so fast, it was all happening so fast, yet somehow time seemed to slow wayyyyyy down, like slow-mo, except super. Super slow-mo. Slow-mo Extreme. And then Batgirl's life passed before her eyes, and it was not a pleasant experience, especially during what Batgirl likes to refer to as the "hair years."

Disaster was inevitable, there was nothing Batgirl could do to stop it. It was like she was living outside her body, watching everything happen. I mean, she was there, but it's like she wasn't there, you know?

It all started innocently enough. Willie Bloomquist was pinch running for Scott Spiezio and poor Boo Berry was trying to keep him on first, he was trying really really hard and it's important to try, really it is, but sometimes trying's just not enough, like when you're trying to throw the ball to first and you bounce it in the dirt instead. So Bloomquist went to second. And then the squealing noise, and the shouting—was it Batgirl shouting? I can't remember—and Bloomquist took off for third—and really, should he have done that? Wasn't that just a mite reckless? Didn't anyone ever teach him you don't risk making the 2nd out at 3rd base when Batgirl needs a win?—and then there was this great flash of light and a loud noise, and Blanco threw to third and the ball went ricocheting off Bloomquist's head and Bloomquist inexplicably started running for home. Why would he do that? Why?

When Batgirl came to, Bloomquist had scored to give the Mariners the game and was falling into the protective embrace of his teammates (oh! Watch the head!). Meanwhile, poor Corey Koskie had apparently gone through an experience almost as traumatic as Batgirl's—again I'm not clear on the details but Bloomquist seemed to have paused in between third and home to shout "Edmonton Oilers suck and wrench Corey's arm out of its socket. Which is just plain mean.

The whole experience would be the most discouraging thing that's happened to the Twins in a month, but after Sunday it's really not so bad. Though Batgirl might allow that perhaps—perhaps--Corey suffered more than she, and while she does not, as of this writing, know the precise nature of his injury, she hopes he feels better soon. Batgirl, meanwhile, is going to pound down six or seven Happy Happy Fun Drinks (that's rum, orange juice, pineapple juice, Prozac, Xanax, and a cherry) and wait for tomorrow's Santana '04 campaign speech. Cheers!