Friday. Twins 5, Bitch Sox 4.
Saturday. Twins 8, Bitch Sox 7. (11 innings)
Sunday. Bitch Sox 6, Twins 1.

Well.

Batgirl, for one, is completely done for. Today's loss was unfortunate—though expected—but a rather welcome respite from all the heart attacks and aneurysms of the weekend. A few of those can really do permanent damage to a girl. The Batkitties are still under the bed, fearful of some stream of joy/agony induced expletives to come streaming at a high volume out of Batgirl's mouth. They're very sensitive, you know.

I hope you got to sit yourself down and watch some baseball this weekend, because I'm here to say games don't get much better than this. Sometimes, Batgirl wishes we could separate these games from the tension of the playoff race, because if this string of magic and miracles doesn't hold out, she doesn't want it to take away from how fracking awesome these couple of days were. And if you're feeling low one of these days, go read the BOD threads for Friday and Saturday, and remember this playoff-baseball in August, when a bunch of replacement players and replacement parts showed us they're the team to beat in baseball.

I mean, did you watch the games? Really? Are you okay—can I get you a nice tisane or something, or a sedative or a large forehead-ready mallet? Okay, really, just let me know, because I got plenty. Friday seemed doomed almost from the beginning. Bradke out in the third inning, Vasquez dealing… and then, well, a (animation courtesy of Kurtis). Little Nicky Punto went yard, and suddenly all things seemed possible. Cuddy singled, Morneau singled, Guillen put in David "No, it's too" Riske, and Torii Sweetcheeks Hunter stepped to the plate. And, ah, well….

Boom.

Hold me like you did by the lake on Naboo.

By the time Lew Ford ran all the way past home plate, through the Twins dugout wall—leaving a KoolAid Man hole—and all the way up to Wrigley for the winning run in the ninth, most of us required electroshock therapy. I mean the game could have gone into extra innings and if Rincon pitched the ninth we would have only had Nathan and Will E. Eyre left, and what would that have been like, huh?

Please don't hurt me.

Well, funny story, that. All looked good on Saturday for the Twins when they struck first, with an RBI Rondell triple that he punctuated with this awesome flying leap onto (and I do mean on to) third base. And then things got really crazy and Dennys Reyes went all Moon Over My Hammy, and there was something horrible having to do with Jermaine Dye that I've sort of blocked out, and then Ol' Papa Stelly went to the bullpen cupboard to get his poor doggie a relief pitcher, and when he got there, all there was was Willie Eyre, and the poor doggie went, "Oh, crap."

Silly doggie.

Picture courtesy of AnnaM.

Now, a couple of quick points as we head into this much needed off day. First off, Jermaine Dye is awesome, Batgirl really likes him and has since his Oakland days, even though it wasn't very nice of him to come into our division and kick ass like this. And he completely deserves MVP consideration, and it would be so great to have an MVP from the Central, and in fact BG thinks whoever gets this Wild Card for their team should get the MVP—but if she hears one more person in Bitch Soxia cluck that Dye's not getting any attention for the award she's going to have some sort of violent spasm (I mean worse than this game) because it's all anyone is talking about this week. Even the PiPress mentioned it, and they just ran an article about the meringue sweeping baseball stadiums around the country. Sportscenter had this whole thing right after Saturday's game talking about him after his game-tying homer, and they obviously put it together thinking the Sox would win, and then it was like, "Oh, also, they lost." And then Baseball Tonight called him the "hero of the game" on Saturday which was sort of cute on account of the losing, and the heroes of that game were clearly, as Batgirl pointed out already in her role as BOD Supreme High Commandress, 1) Little Nicky Punto 2) Sideshow Pat Neshek and 3) Will E. Eyre.

Secondly, there has been a lot of teeth-gnashing in Bitch Sox blogdom this weekend, beginning with Friday's loss, and Batgirl must admit she does not understand it. This thing wouldn't have been near over even if we'd won today, and now there's a 1/2 game separating the teams—which could change in a day. So, my South Side friends, fret not, there's a lot of baseball to be played, and we could match up pretty well in garment-rending over whose starting ro' is more f'ed. So, buck up, and we'll see you guys in a month.