Twins at Seattle. Mariners 5, Twins 4.

Hello, Batgirl.

Thank you for letting me write today on your weblog; I really appreciate the chance to communicate with Twins fans. I wanted to apologize for my mistake on the field yesterday. There is simply no excuse for my actions. I'm a professional baseball player and I made a mistake that would have gotten a good kick in the testicles in t-ball. I mean it; my dad was the t-ball coach and he was a little…strict. But it's important to be strict, because if you’re not strict, children think they can get away with anything. If you're not strict, children make mistakes. They don't keep the eye on the ball when they bat, they don’t put their glove on the ground, they forget to cover the base. Look at Bronson Arroyo; his dad never kicked him the testicles and see what happens?

The point is, Batgirl, that baseball is a team sport and a team is like a chain and a chain is only as good as its weakest link, and if on that day you're the weakest link you're going to get kicked in the testicles. And then the next time, when your mind starts to wander, you're going to feel your testicles throbbing and then you remember to keep your head in the game. It's just reinforcement.

I felt so awful on Sunday, Batgirl. You just have to have your head in the game, and what do I do? I cost the team a run. You may bet your striped socks, Batgirl and Twins fans, that I will never make that mistake again. Right after the game I went out and got a box score tattooed on each arm. I'm going to get myself a big rusty nail and every time there's an out I'll mark it in the box. I'm doing it on both arms so one can heal a little bit in between games; otherwise I wouldn't be able to read it as well.

Rest assured, I don't think that that's good enough. It might keep it from happening in the future, but what about Sunday's mistake? One thing I knew; I needed to be kicked in the testicles. Right after the inning, I went into the dugout and asked Ron to do it and he just gave me the strangest look. He gives me that look a lot. I don't want to criticize; I would never say anything bad about Ron—he's an excellent manager but sometimes I think he might have more success if he were more willing to kick a guy in the testicles. My t-ball team won our division. We would have won the state, but by tournament time some of the guys were walking kind of hunched over. It can kind of affect your batting stance.

Maybe that's why Ron wouldn't do it; I was leading off the next inning after all. So I just had to play out the game and afterwards see about getting kicked in the testicles. And, indeed, right after we got into the clubhouse I went around asking each guy whether or not they would kick me in the testicles. It didn't work very well. Most of them just sort of looked at me and backed slowly away. As soon as I said "testicles," Lew just started giggling and wouldn't stop. He was still giggling when we got to the park today. Mike Redmond winced and then started to weep gently, so I held him for awhile and he seemed to feel better, but he still wouldn't do it. Justin Morneau just stared at me blankly, but he always does that.

So, anyway, no one would do it, but I wanted to let you all know that I tried, I really did. And just because I couldn't get any of the Twins to kick me in the testicles doesn't mean I'm not going to pay my penance. We're going to Chicago at the end of this road trip, and A.J.s there. If there's anyone who will kick a guy in the testicles when he needs it, it's A.J.

Man, I miss him.