For nearly four games, I had kept the honor of wearing the pink jersey with a backwards K on it instead of a number. No one had struck out after my game-one K.

But I was just lying in wait. And when the umpire rung up Clay Sankey this past Wednesday night, I couldn't have stripped off that lousy jersey -- which, by the way, hasn't been washed since I got it -- any faster. I threw it up in the air in celebration, as poor Clay walked back to the pine.

I was so happy to rid myself of that embarrassing jersey that I rushed out to home plate to hit, forgetting to put on my normal, red jersey.

That was the important part of the story of the Pink Sox of St. Paul this week. The unimportant part is what I did: pitched 16 innings (I have a Jell-O arm), went 5-for-7 with four runs batted in, and scored twice.

The team won two games, a 10-8 come-from-behind nail-biter and an 18-17 match that we barely held on to win. All in all, it was a fun night playing ball in the mud.

And thank goodness that jersey is off my back.