Dear First Base Ump:

Okay, you know what? Batgirl doesn't like to complain about calls. Because bad calls are a part of the game, yadda yadda, and when a call doesn't go your way it's your job to buckle down and win anyway (as opposed to bitching about it the whole $?@%!#? game). And as you may remember on Tuesday nothing seemed to go the Twins' way, umpire-wise, lots of bad calls at first and then Cuddy was out on a foul tip with two on and two out in the eighth, which was pretty curious because the ball never actually hit his bat, which I think is sort of required in a foul tip, don't you?

But, you know, part of the game, blah blah blah. Bad call. You win some, you lose some. It all evens out, unless you’re the Angels in the ALCS. Umps are humans, except for the ones that are Cylons, but those tend to be quite accurate, really.

But you know what I do mind, Mr. Umpire Man? When a kid's—no, no the Kid—has got a no hitter in the sixth—yes, a no freakin' hitter, not a one-hitter or a two hitter, but a no hitter which means he has not allowed a hit—and there's a close call at first you better be damned sure you get it right. And you know what, you blue bellied boobie? You blew it. Carbrea was out by half a step and you cost the Kid his bleepin' blargin' no hitter because you have a depth perception problem and you've been too embarrassed to tell anyone because you're an ump and you can't be an ump with a depth perception problem (clearly) and then they'd fire you and you have no other skills, except for macramé, but that doesn't pay very well and besides every time you express yourself in macramé your brother Stan beats you up and it hurts and maybe that's what's responsible for your depth perception problem in the first place because when Stan found you hiding in the closet making a macramé owl he hit you in the brain and you've never been the same since except for the one thing that you are and always have been a total freakin' moron and a stupid-ass crap weasel and I hate you.

Jerk.

Sincerely,
Batgirl

p.s. You suck at macramé, too.