Dearest readers,

Batgirl had typed half an entry about the little known ancient Greek Bake-Off competition, sponsored yearly by the Platonic Meal company, and how one team, managed by a bitter ex-contestant came to dominate the competition. Joetorre had suffered a tremendous embarrassment many years before at the Bake-Off when he substituted salt for sugar on his Very Best Baklava and caused three of the judges to desiccate from the inside. It was the worst Bake-Off choke since Grady Little left his Pedro Martinis out in the sun too long. (Ha! Get it? Ha!) Anyway, after the humiliation Joetorre took it upon himself to put together a team of All-Stars from all over Greece. He traveled for years, finding the best amateur chefs the Empire had to offer, including one Derek Jeter, who made a souvlaki that was just to die for.

Well, anyway, as you can imagine, Joetorre's team won every year, yadda yadda, no one else had a chance, yadda yadda, until a motley crew of yadda yadda showed them a thing or two about melintzanosalata.

But you know what? Enough. Enough with the tortured Grecian metaphors, the Grady Little jokes, the half-baked Bake-Off idea. For today, the Minnesota Twins beat the New York Yankees by five runs, for their second victory in a row against the evil empire, and this, my dearest BatLings, deserves more than mousaka.

Let's go back to last week. Do you remember last week? Do you remember the Oakland series, the Mariners series? Do you remember all the sucking? Or have you blocked it out, stuck it in the dark corners of your brain in the place where the bad things go, like the ninth inning of the 5th game of the 2002 ALDS or your tour in 'Nam.

Let me refresh your memory. We sucked. We fell from our lofty perch quicker than Sisyphus's boulder goes rolling back down the ol' mountain in Hades when he's this close to the top. Cleveland was coming, yes, Cleveland was coming and in the words of the crusty old sailor in trailers for The Perfect Storm a couple years back, she's coming on strong, boys, she's coming on strong. Two weeks ago we thought the division was all sewn up, but that is because we are proud creatures, destined, like mighty Agamemnon, to be slain unceremoniously by our wife's new lover after we so haughtily return from victory in Troy. Agamemnon thought he had the central division all sewn-up, too. 'Til he got stabbed.

Anyway, we fell, and Cleveland, they rose, and pretty soon, what with all the rising and falling, the two teams were going to meet in the middle, and then it looked like we'd just keep falling on down, way to the bottom of the mountain, and Aegisthus would cuckold and stab us and then Sisyphus's boulder would smoosh our cuckolded, stabbed, pathetic little heads.

Oh, but then the great miracle happened, for Terence Mulholland pitched his aged, shriveled little heart out, and Cordel Koskos discovered the healing power of beating on defenseless chairs, and suddenly the Twins had stopped falling. Suddenly, the light was shining on us again. And then the mighty Yankees came to town. Perhaps you remember them from, you know, every game we've ever played against them. Yet somehow, this year, they didn't seem as fierce. Perhaps because on Sunday we remembered how to play baseball, or perhaps its because the Canadians suddenly got pissed, or perhaps its because we have Johan Santana, and they do not (note: Can we please keep it that way?). Whatever the reason, the Twins seemed ready to look the Gorgon in the eye and say, hey, Gorgon, you may be a team of genetically engineered superhumans, but we are not afraid of you.

So it was tonight, when Shannon Stewart faced off against Mike "Mousaka" Mussina and launched his second pitch high into the left field seats. And so it was when Johan Santana took the mound, stared at the likes of Derek Jeter, and politely suggested to them that they put their high-priced tuckus back on the bench. And so it was when Cristian Guzman scored two runs on a double in the fourth, then Stewart added another with two out. By the time the Twins had added three runs in the sixth inning, we'd pretty much poked that Cyclops in the eye.

Yes, the Twins have won a series against the New York Yankees, and tomorrow they go for the sweep. As we look to September, and glance casually but noncommittally toward October, what more could we ask for? Bake-Offs simply don't suffice, for we are in an epic battle of good versus evil, light v. darkness, aberrations v. Selig. The themes are weighty, the stakes great, the impact eternal. How Greek it is.

Love,
Batgirl