No sluggers hitting the softest grounders ever hit, with the bases loaded and one out. No relief pitchers coming in to pour gas on the fire. The hitters remembered what baseball bats are for, even though the fielders forgot what gloves are for, and the bullpen's role (praise the Lord) was limited to one inning.
Peralta singled in two first inning runs. In the second, Laird tripled in Dirks, and Austin Jackson, still The Man, doubled in Laird. I couldn't remember the last time they had a lead of more than one run after the second inning.
Doug Fister gave up a three run homer to Josh Willingham in the third, the last three of four plated by the Twins in the third. Errors by Fielder and Infante (Bless You, Boys) made none of the runs earned.
But Fister settled down (even when he's shaky, he's better than anyone else they can bring in), and his mates tacked on four more runs. Papa Shut 'Em Down did so this time, without drama, and saved an 8-4 win.
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