We might be a curse. There is sufficient evidence to suggest that the Minnesota Twins cannot play functional baseball in the presence of the Great Baseball Road Trip’s awesome presence. But let’s back up just a moment and start from the beginning of the weekend, with a rough chronology of the GBRT-to-date:

10 a.m. Saturday: Depart Minneapolis for Kansas City after a minor setback (somebody forgot his golf clubs. We’re not going to name names, but it wasn’t us, and it wasn’t the Rocket. OK, it was Crentist). Nonetheless we are full of vigor. We have exactly one week ahead of us, which includes eight baseball games. Those eight games include a day-night multi-city doubleheader in Indianapolis and Ft. Wayne, Ind. We are not yet out of the metro area when the first “Baseball Road Trip (clap, clap, clap-clap-clap) chant starts.

12 p.m.: The siren song of Iowa’s roadside casinos is a powerful lure. But we are strong. We are on a baseball mission, not a gambling mission. Also, we know that our hotel Sunday is about two miles from a casino.

1 p.m.: Gas up at the Kum and Go. Say this about Iowa: there is no shortage of Sonic restaurants or these gas stations. We are mortified to learn that one can purchase a “Chelata” (or some similar name), which is a 24 oz. beverage combining Budweiser and Clamato juice. Seriously. If anyone out there has tried one of these, please let us know and then hide your head in shame.

5 p.m.: Arrive at Kauffman Stadium. Quick evaluation of the stands indicates it is, without hyperbole, at least 30 percent Twins fans. Purchase Gates BBQ sandwich and enough fries to feed the Twins’ original starting rotation this year (yes, the one that included Livan and Boof).

6:10 p.m.: First pitch. It’s Francisco Liriano vs. Zach Grienke. We’ll spare you the details of the actual game because if you care enough you know what happened already. But we will say this: Grienke most definitely threw at Delmon Young, leading to the first dust-up in GBRT history. (By the way, we heard a comment on the Royals’ post-game radio show about how when Delmon gets mad, he usually attacks with his bat. Just further proof that some mistakes never leave you and that Kansas City needs to stay classy).

10:30 p.m.: Check into hotel. We are not into free advertising for chain hotels, but the room far exceeded our expectations. Two delightful beds and a pullout couch. A 42-inch flat screen television. More like this, please.

7:15 a.m. Sunday: A strategic early rise. First off, everyone on the trip has decided to exercise. This is a staggering first. Also: We have to eat the continental breakfast early so that we will have room for Arthur Bryant’s BBQ by 11 a.m. before the game. So it’s motivated partially by exercise, partially by gluttonous meat consumption. It’s a conflict we all have to live with. So we run 7.5 miles. Then …

11 a.m.: Arthur Bryant’s. That is what you see in the picture — a sliced pork sandwich, which is approximately 1 pound of meat. Rocket and Crentist got the “meat tray,” which is more like 1.5 pounds. It was glorious.

12:15 p.m.: Arrive at the game. It is sunny. It is glorious. We are three briskets cooking to a slow heat. We are giddy. We are ready for a Twins sweep. Every song that is played has the words replaced with “Baseball road trip.”

1:10 p.m.: Game starts. According to Royals radio, even though Scott Baker has a better record and a better ERA, and the Twins are a better team than the Royals, “the numbers favor Kansas City today.”

5:10 p.m.: Four hours later, the game ends. In the mean time, our disdain for certain Twins players has grown immeasurably. The Twins have squandered a 2-0 lead on a terrible play. They have squandered a 4-2 lead in the eighth because of a wild pitch and a bad throw on a routine ground ball to short. They have failed at the plate so many times. And they have lost because of a base hit by a man who came into the game not even hitting our weight (Tony Pena Jr., who went 2-for-2 after coming in batting .148). It’s official: we are a curse. The Twins are now 2-9 all-time on the GBRT. Nick Punto is approximately 2-for-35 in these games.

9 p.m.: Arrive in St. Charles, Mo., the halfway point on our drive to Louisville and the place we will spend the night.

9:30 p.m.: Who were we kidding. We leave for the casino and hit the poker table. Rocket and Crenist fare well at poker and black jack, respectively. Our night is summed up when, playing Texas Hold ‘em, we have pocket 10s and watch a 10, Jack, Jack flop hit. The full house after five cards is normally good — except when you’re playing against someone holding Jack-10, who therefore has flopped a better full house. The only saving grace is that it’s 2-4, meaning it’s impossible to lose too much.

Overheard: “What is that — hot chocolate!?” A youngster in front of us at the Sunday game, watching his sister bring a 32 oz. container back to her seat on a hot, hot day.

Today’s agenda: Drive to Louisville, tour the bat factory, take in some minor league baseball, shenanigans ensue.

Fasola-link! Conformity in an elevator.

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