Dearest BatLings,

I know it's painful. I know we never wanted to go back to this place. But as the Twins prepare to play the Yankees, we must look back at a moment two years ago which has hung like the proverbial albatross around the Twins' necks ever since. Batgirl considered typing up the whole thing in a "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" sort of way, but why work when a BatLing expressed the whole story so wonderfully in the comments last week. From loyal and talented reader Frightwig:

May 17, 2002. Twins in New York. The forces of light had fallen behind by an 8-3 score through the 5th inning, but in the top of the 6th the Twins offense erupted for 6 runs to knock out Mike Mussina and go ahead in the game, 9-8. This held until the 9th when, alas, Everyday Eddie coughed up a solo HR to "Bern! Baby, Bern!"

With that, we went into extra innings, and before long we Twins fans had to make a choice: do we go to bed at a halfway reasonable hour for our full 40 winks and feel fresh & ready for work the next day, or do we stick by our Twins into the wee hours and forget productivity and happy relationships with our co-workers and family the next day? My sense of commitment sided with the Twins, and I stayed up with them through 4 tense, scoreless extra frames. But I felt rewarded when the Twins finally put 3 on the board in the top of the 14th. I felt a glow. Why, even Denny Hocking had 3 hits & 3 RBI on the night, and I have some vague feeling that he was involved in the late heroics, too. Oh, it was sweet.

Trouble was, Gardy had used up all his good pitchers, and even the remaining live bodies onhand, besides. Jack Cressend from the 10th-13th had allowed 9 baserunners, but he'd held the forces of darkness scoreless! Yeoman's work deserving of applause, but now he was done…

Yeah, well. The rest is history. (Mike) Trombley took the mound. Giambi did that thing that Never Officially Happened in My Mind, and I finally went to bed after 5 hours, 45 minutes feeling screwed and betrayed, waking up the next morning wishing I could have my whole night back.

Trombley, who had just been called up from Triple A, loaded the bases, and Giambi, who had been booed all year by the Yankees fans after coming over from Oakland, stepped up in the pouring rain and hit a walk-off grand slam. A little piece of Batgirl died that day, never to be reborn. If Batgirl's memory serves, the Twins have not beaten the Yankees in the regular season since then. Batgirl has become convinced the Yanks let us have that one postseason game last year just to toy with us.

Yes, we are suffering from a curse, my dear friends. The question is, how do we lift it? Batgirl would take the grand slam ball and burn it ceremoniously if she could, but alas, she possesses it not.

Sincerely,
Batgirl