Whimsically speaking, there's a valid reason the Twins didn't sweep the Yankees. Look at the back of your ticket and check out the list of prohibited items. They don't want guns at the Metrodome, which makes sense, and you're not supposed to bring in your own likker, oversized bags and laser pointers.

And also on the list of prohibited items, right there between projectiles and balloons, is BROOMS. There are no BROOMS allowed at the Dome, and it makes you wonder how in Swiffer's name are the guys supposed to sweep the Yankees if we can't bring in brooms. Someone thought to bring one because there was a nice angled floorsweeper sitting in the trash outside Gate F a few minutes before the first pitch.

OK, that being said, Bradke had to friggin' know that he wasn't gonna get the kind of run support that he's gotten in those starts against the Jays and A's, and that six runs in six innings doesn't pass for "getting in trouble early and then shutting 'em down."

And Rondell? Calling Rondell (The Other) White (Meat)! Stop it right now. We took a vote after the game and it was a unanimous verdict among RD, Sweet-n-Sassy and the Sassyettes that you should spend the off day on Monday in the batting cages at Grand Slam in Eagan. Set the speed real slow to start out and then work your way up to major-league speed. Pretend the mechanical arm in Bradke ... or some guy you owned in high school back in Georgia. This is getting ridiculous. It was kinda cool to say that our guys had won 5 straight and could afford to have you swing your way out of this morassic malaise. WAS is the operative word here. Four more at-bats, three more strikeouts, four hits for the whole season. And don't even think about using the excuse that you stunk today because Hoobastank was in the house.

That being said, Twins life certainly looks better on Easter than it did on Palm Sunday. Ruben Sierra will be in uniform on Tuesday and RD is hoping that Gardy hangs out around the go-karts over at Grand Slam, quietly eyeing work in the batting cage. Gardy, if you don't like what you see, there's a 40-year-old hitter coming your way. Can it be any worse?