Kansas City at Twins. Twins 11, Royals 8.

Batgirl tries so hard not to devote this site to her personal problems; she has a higher mission. Surely you do not care about her splinters, her blisters, her phalange. But sometimes her personal problems are so great that they interfere with her solemn blogging duties.

In other words, BG is still on Moldovan time, and finds herself overcome with an incredible desire to crawl into the BatBed at about 8pm. It's all quite strange, as--while Batgirl expressly disavows any relationship with nocturnal flying mammals of the order Chiroptera, as she is only a Batgirl in the sense that she is a girl who is employed by a baseball team to look after their equipment, (and by "looking after their equipment," one means, of course, sassing)—BG normally keeps rather nocturnal hours. Thus allowing her to look after her team's equipment well into the wee hours.

But now she is dazed, confused, exhausted, perpetually dehydrated, suffering from a rather unpleasant case of indigestion, and around 7 o'clock every night begins to slip slowly into unconsciousness. In other words, Batgirl has become quite sympathetic to the Kansas City Royals pitching staff.

It is a well-known fact that it supposed to take as many days to recover from your jet lag as time zones you have traveled across. It is a lesser known fact that it is supposed to take as many days to recover from your suck lag as runs you have let in by your pure incompetence.

I mean, first you've got starting pitcher J.R. Howell, who it seems like the Royals called up to give Zack Grienke someone to play Star Wars guys with. In three innings, Howell gives up six hits, four walks, and five earned runs. That's going to set him back at least 'til Sunday. Unfortunately for Howell, Sunday is his next scheduled start, so it's quite likely the cycle will start all over again.

After Howell came Mike "Knock on" Wood, who, while he gave up five hits over two innings, walked only one and allowed just two runs—thus looking like Cy Young in comparison. Less successful was Andrew "Please Make The Giant-Man Go Away" Sisco, who got to earned runs over one inning without giving up a hit. By the time Leo Nunez and Ryan Jensen got done doing the voodoo that they do, the Royals pitching staff had walked eight batters, which is exactly eight more than the Twins pitching staff.

The Twins pitchers managed to give up runs the old-fashioned way—by letting the Royals hit the crap out of the ball. Our first two pitchers had a suck lag of their own, before various people whose names start with "J" came in and stopped the bleeding. Poor Carlos was more Crapal than Jackal tonight and Terry Mulholland, well, apparently had too much carbonated green tea. Something is deeply wrong when the Royals pitching staff walks 84 batters, but we still can't put the game away 'til the 7th, when Jesse Crain stepped up and said, "I am Jesse Crain, and I've never suffered a day of jet lag in my life."

So, yes, we had some suck lag today. It happens. Unfortunately, it happens to the Royals pitchers every single day of their lives. It's not their fault—there's a lot of talent there, but most of them aren't even old enough to throw a curve ball yet. I don't know what's worse—being twenty-two-year-old J.R. Howell, who was just from the minor leagues untimely ripp'd, and forced to endure this agony because the club never bothered to get any real pitchers for the starting rotation, or to be Jimmy "Gobble" Gobble and to be deemed unworthy of said rotation.

So, boys, Batgirl feels your pain. She really does. And she's done some research into the issue. Drink plenty of water. Eat lots of protein. Don't take naps. Get some sunlight—melanin is good for you! Just try to adjust your body gradually. Be patient. It will take time, but we'll get there. We'll get there.