Twins at Detroit. Weekend Round-Up.
Friday. Tigers 9, Twins 0.
Saturday. Tigers 750, Twins 1.
Sunday. Tigers 6, Twins 0.

A small contingent of Twins players and coaches was gathered outside the clubhouse bathroom before today's game, whispering to each other and glancing at the closed door nervously.

"You try," hissed Rick Anderson to Steve Liddle.

"What do I say?" asked Liddle, wide-eyed.

"I don't know," said Andy. "Anything."

Casting a glance around him for support, Liddle approached the bathroom door and knocked gently. "Kyle? Kyle, are you in there?"

No answer.

"Kyle," Liddle said, knocking again, "it's Steve. Will you answer me?"

From the other side of the door, a voice emerged. "I'm not going out there!"

"Come on, Kyle," said Liddle. "You can do this!"

"No, I can't!"

Liddle sighed. "He's not coming out," he said to the crowd.

"Offer him a cookie," whispered Lew Ford.

"Lew has a cookie for you, Kyle!" said Liddle.

"I don't wanna cookie!" yelled Lohse.

Little Nicky Punto and Luis Castillo joined the fray. "What's going on?" asked LNP.

"Lohse's locked himself in so he doesn't have to pitch to the Tigers," said Anderson with a sigh.

"I don't blame him," muttered Castillo. His eyes traveled unwittingly to the corner of the clubhouse where Carlos Silva and Brad Radke were huddled together, holding each other and weeping softly.

"Did you offer him a cookie?" asked LNP.

"Yeah. It didn't work."

Punto's eyes grew wide. "He doesn't want a cookie?"

"He can have my lucky rabbit's foot," said Rondell White, joining the group. "I take it with me wherever I go."

A moment of silence.

"Uh….that's okay, Rondell," said Anderson.

"What are we going to do?" moaned Liddle. "Game time's in ten minutes."

Anderson sighed. "If he doesn't come out, someone else is going to have to pitch. Where's Guerrier?"

From the back of the room came a high-pitched scream, then the sound of a pair of feet running out of the clubhouse door, down the hallway, into the parking lot, and towards Lake Michigan.

"Kyle!" said Liddle, pounding on the door. "You come out here right now and take it like a man!"

"I donwanna!" yelled Lohse. "You can't make me!"

"I have to pee," said Little Nicky. "Kyle, let me in, I have to pee!"

"Kyle," said Liddle warningly. "Nicky has to pee."

"I don't care!"

"I'll take care of this," muttered Wayne Hattaway."Get out of my way!" And as the Twins scattered, Hattaway launched a flying side kick at the door. The door fell off its hinges and Hattaway strode towards Lohse, picked up, slung him over his shoulder, and stalked out of the clubhouse toward the field, Lohse screaming the whole way.

The coaches exchanged glances.

"There he goes," said Andy with a sigh as they watched him go. "I sure hate to do this to the poor kid."

"Oh, it'll be okay," said Liddle. "How bad can it be?"