Twins at Houston. Twins 6, 'Stros 5 (10 innings).

Batgirl tries to be dignified. Staid. Even-keeled. She wants to set an example for the children—because really, all BG thinks about is the children—that life is full of ups and downs and it’s a long baseball season and you win some and you lose some and sometimes it rains and sometimes there's Carl Everett. But--GOOD GOD BATGIRL IS SO BLEEPIN' HAPPY RIGHT NOW!

I mean, BG was pretty happy on—oh—Friday when we'd won five straight and Silva and Radke had partied like it was 2005 and Jason Kubel was going Boom! Boom! Boom! and Jason Bartlett was, you know, there and did Batgirl mention the five straight? Now, we’ve been down that road before, of course, followed generally by losing six straight but nonetheless—oh, the happiness!

"It's just more fun like this," Batgirl and Jeb said solemnly to each other. "We'd rather lose with various youngins named Jason than be mediocre with middling veterans on the CIA most wanted list." And we'd win again and Batgirl and Jeb would nod solemnly again and say, "It's not that we're winning, per se, it's just so much fun to see those guys out there." And then we'd win again and BG and Jeb would say, "The point is we're looking at the future!"

Batgirl has actually been moved to tears twice during this streak of awesomeness—the first after Kubes hit his grand salami oh-so-many wins ago, and then tonight. The Twins had been losing 4-1 and Batgirl sighed to herself, "Self, it's okay, we have to lose sometime, and losing once every eight games is okay and Roy Oswalt is good at baseball." And then the seventh inning hit and the J-Men (which is like G-men, but stupid) each hit singles and then Tiffles pinch hit for Rad and Jeb said something disparaging and promptly apologized, for Tiffee got a RBI, then Castillo did, then Little Nicky Punto hitched up the green Speedo and hit a double to tie the game, and that's when Batgirl wept.

It was 4-4 then, and suddenly you just knew we were going to win. Because that's what the Minnesota Twins do, you know, they win baseball games. Especially on the road. Our first go ahead run was a rather adorable tribute to small ball—Castillo singling then stealing, LNP walking, and Chairman Mauer throwing himself towards first to avoid hitting into a double play to end the inning. A little Crazy Pepe on the part of the Stros, and the Twins had what would of course be the winning run.

Well, Joe Nathan's saved more games in the last few days then he has all season and that wears on a chap, it really does—he's used to saving a game and then sitting back in the bullpen for three or four weeks crocheting booties for Humane Society kitties, drinking Colt 45 out of a brown paper bag, and thinking what it would be like to be Vice President of a team that didn't suck. So you can't really blame him for blowing the save; he was probably just anxious about falling behind in his bootie-quotient.

And at that point the Houston Astros fans seemed to think they had hope, which is very sweet and all, but they did not know they lived on the Island of Dr. Morneau, where hope goes to die. "Small ball, my ass," said the Good Doctor. "Let's blow this popsicle stand." One pitch, one swing, one ball flying many many moose antlers away and that, my friends, was all she wrote. And the Twins had suddenly won eight straight and were a whole game above .500. And Batgirl and Jeb turned to each other and said, "Oh, #@$& it, it's just fun to win."

BatNote: Joe Mauer has finally cracked the top five in All-Star voting. It's good, but not good enough. You may have voted 25 times, but have your dead ancestors? Your pets? Your toes? Doesn't your pinky toe have an e-mail address? Well, get one, dammit.