Twins at Chicago. Twins 6, Bitch Sox 2.

It turns out that Mark Buehrle is even more confused about the Twins trade rumors than Batgirl. The dimpled lefty, who has completely dominated the Twins (and just about everyone else in the league) this year, was so discombobulated by the whole ordeal that he pitched like a man of half his win total tonight.

You can't really blame him; first he logs on to the Star Tribune on Sunday night to catch up on the boys and reads that Dougie's going to be traded. Heart racing, he tries to find more details, but the article doesn't give any, so he scours the Internet for clues, but finds nothing besides Twins Geek's analysis of possible trades. Possible? No, Buehrle wants answers! He passes a sleepless night, tossing and turning and thinking of the many times he's gazed into the Twins' dugout and seen the light reflecting off Dougie's batting helmet. He wakes up Monday morning and runs to the Strib's website, but there's no more news. All day long he presses reload, and nothing. Nothing! Is it really true? How could it be true? He checks in with the KFAN webcast and Patrick Reusse (who Buehrle hasn't forgiven since he called Kent Hrbek the Turkey of the Year in 1990) says that Dougie might have overreacted to being told he was on the block. But message boards keep saying Dougie's gone, going to Pittsburgh, the Reds, Seattle…

"Where will he go? Follow the river, up to the neon, in young lover's eyes!"

Well, what's a dimpled lefty to think? Was there a trade, or wasn't there? No one was talking. Buehrle called up Terry Ryan and begged him for news, but Ryan was mute—that damned turtle-headed heartbreaker. He sidled up to Ron Gardenhire during BP and promised to throw a gopher ball or two during the game if only he could get an update, but Gardy was his typically-cagey self. And as for Dougie himself—loquacious and lithe, sassy and sticky—well, Buehrle kept trying to approach him, kept running over what he might say in his head, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. What if the answer was yes? What if Dougie looked him in the eyes and told him he was going to Pittsburgh? Buehrle certainly has control over his emotions, but there's only so much a man can bear.

So Buehrle's focus just wasn't on the game. He kept sneaking glances into the Twins' dougout, no, that's dugout, to make sure Minty was still there. Would he blow his bubble gum insouciantly? Would he hike up his stirrups even on the bench? Would he sit in his Lucky Spot just one last time?

Buehrle barely noticed while the Twins teed off against him, getting more hits in the first two innings than they have against him all season. Probably. What does accuracy matter at a time like this? Indeed, before Buehrle knew it, it was 2-0—and then somehow Henry Blanco hit a two-run homer. Henry Blanco? Does he still play baseball? Buehrle had thought he'd retired a couple of years ago, moved to Florida, and started a karaoke bar. Buehrle likes karaoke—maybe tonight he'll go to Excalibur and sing that Green Day The-Time-of-Your-Life song. Yeah, that might help get some of his feelings out. Oh, man, Rivas just got a double. I guess he's being taken out now. You know, maybe they'll just trade Dougie to Boston, that wouldn't be so bad. Then he could see him once in a while…

While Buehrle was lost in uncertainty, Twins fans were temporarily distracted from the whole Dougie to-do by the injury to team mascot, Little Nicky Punto. After Willie Harris laid down a bunt single, Punto made a strange attempt at flight, landing directly on his clavicle. That is not a good place to land, and poor Punto Bean will be heading back to the DL. (And by the way, Batgirl noticed dead silence at Bitch Sox Field when Punto was taken off the field. Aren't you supposed to applaud players who've just been injured? Does Batgirl need to go down and teach those fans some manners?)

And then, of course, there was the whole runs-off-Buehrle thing, which we're just not used to. And surely, eventually, Carlos Lee would hit a six-run homer anyway. You need every run you can get off the dastardly Bitch Sox, which is why Torii Hunter running from 3rd on a sac fly, did his best John Randle impersonation knocking Jamie Burke silly (and keeping him from getting the ball). The Bitch Sox fans booed Torii loudly, and while such plays are a part of baseball, you can't really criticize the fans for overreacting--they're a peace-loving people. (We know this because when Torii came up again, some those fans politely suggested to Mike Jackson that he bean Torii in the noggin.)

Well, anyway, Batgirl had been very concerned about this series, and this game in particular, what with all the clubhouse uncertainty and chaos (and what with the Bitch Sox handing us our pants of late). Plus Mark Buehrle. But not as concerned, clearly, as Buehrle himself—and all she can say to him is we're all confused, we're all struggling against the darkness—just waiting for that precious moment when we see the first light of dawn.