Baltimore at Twins. Orioles 11, Twins 2.

Ball players, I've heard, are a just a little superstitious. I've heard that if Lew Ford steps on a crack, he immediately jumps up and down three times, spins around once, spits, walks backwards over the offending crack, leaps back over it, and then goes on his way—but when he gets home he'll call his mama just to be sure. I've heard that if a black cat crosses Luis Rivas's path, he'll immediately find the cat, take it home, and bleach part of its fur, and if the cat cannot be found, he'll simply rip off a toenail. I've heard that if Matt LeCroy accidentally walks under a ladder, he'll then climb the ladder, strip off all his clothes, shout, "I only regret that I have but one life to give for my country!" and then leap off the ladder to the ground below. I've heard that if someone mentions "Macbeth" in a baseball park, Kyle Lohse will say, "Who's that?"

So, after a late night flight from Detroit on Monday, Gardy gave the Twins a day off from BP before Tuesday's game. Tuesday night, the Twins took their shots off Freddy Garcia, so Gardy decided to call off practice for the next day. The Twins took no BP at all during the Bitch Sox series, unless you count what they did the Bitch Sox pitching staff. Feel free to count that, by the way. I don't mind.

The Twins did take some BP today; Shannon Stewart apparently began his at about 6am. The Orioles began theirs at about 8:30pm, and really whatever it is that Rafael Palmero is taking; it's working. That ball had a lot of lift! Anyway, for three days, no BP and we win. One day, BP, and we lose a lot, and poor Jesse Crain has a really bad night's sleep.

The question here is: did the Twins BP habits affect them? Or is it something else? For the last two days, manager Ron Gardenhire has been suffering from a terrible stomach flu. Today, he's better, and is managing again. Two games, sick Gardy=two wins. One game, healthy Gardy=a loss.

Now, I'm not saying there's definitely a connection, but can you argue that there isn't one? Do you have any proof? Isn't it entirely possible that the Twins, motivated by their beloved manager's illness, tried just a little harder—because Gardy would have wanted it that way? Or that somehow Gardy's vomiting tickled the fates in such a way as to guarantee a Twins win? I mean, the fates are a capricious bunch—look at what happened to poor Grady Little last year when he failed to tie his sneakers left foot first.

Where does this put Gardy? Should he down some raw eggs, or perhaps eat some undercooked chicken, or maybe lick paper money or coins? Yes, it's a risk—but isn't it riskier not to try? If this is the key to the Twins going all the way, then I expect Ron Gardenhire to take a page from his portly DH and shout, "I regret that I have just one spleen to give to my baseball team."

Meanwhile, there was a game played tonight, and it was pretty exciting. I mean, it looked like it was going to be pretty one-sided there, until Bobby Higginson and Dmitri Young hit homers in the sixth, then Omar Infante and Craig Monroe went long in the seventh to give the Tigers 6 runs in that inning. Whatever pregame rituals they have; they're doing it right! But the B-Sox, they fought back and it was 10-9 going into the bottom of the ninth. With two outs in the bottom of that inning, there was a jackanapes on each base, and Esteban Yan let fly a wild pitch that tied the game.

But Batgirl was stalwart. The magic number was going down tonight, yes it was, the Magic 8 Ball told her so, and Batgirl had found a penny, picked it up earlier in the day, and she found a four leaf clover. Plus she's eaten soup every night the past week and the magic number has dropped each night, and she totally had soup tonight.

Also, stalwart were the Detroit Tigers, bless their furry little hearts. For, in the top of the tenth Carlos Pena hit a homer to put the kitties up one run. (And when it's between kitties and bitches, who would you root for?) In the bottom of the tenth, reliever John Ennis got two bitches out, then Carlos Lee and Paul Konerko each hit a single. And—close your eyes with Batgirl, and imagine with her this scene—the Bitch Sox fans are probably all standing and cheering and saying, "See, we are better than the Twins and they have to play that whole extra week of baseball and here we are about to win the game and it's going to be so exciting and even though this week has been really really bad, I'm going to feel so good because the bitchy sox are the best team ever and we will deprive the Twins tonight!"

And then Ennis struck Ben Davis out, putting the Bitch Sox two games below .500 and all the Bitch Sox players and fans were sad. The magic number is now three. And that, my friends, is good luck.

(What about you, Batlings? Do you know of any superstitious pregame rituals of the Twins players?)