Getting hit by the triple whammy during a trip to NY

Anytime you're on a road trip and the directions have you spending more time on rural highways than freeways, you know you're in trouble — an omen for a bad day ahead.

Hamilton, N.Y. is about one hour away from civilization in every direction. My roommate, Dennis Bakke, and I left at about 7:30 a.m. Saturday to get to this remote outpost in time for the Princeton-Colgate football game at 1:00. My mind was elsewhere, though, as two of my other teams had huge games that day — the Minnesota Twins of baseball and Golden Gophers of college football. At least one of the three had to win, right? Right?

After a few hours of driving, Dennis and I were passing through Binghamton, starting to get hungry.

"I've got some Nutri-Grain bars in my bag," I said.

"What are those?" he said.

I was flummoxed. I mean, what do you say to that? That's like somebody asking you what Pepsi is.

"It's a Nutri-Grain bar," I said.

"All right, I'll have one," he said, "but I prefer real food."

An hour later, we grabbed Subway in bustling downtown Hamilton to calm Dennis down before the broadcast. There was a TV hanging in the dining area, making this the only fast food establishment in the country to have such an amenity, on which we caught the start of the Gophers-Michigan game — the battle for the Little Brown Jug and control of the Big 10.

Meanwhile, back in Minneapolis, unbeknownst to me, manager Ron Gardenhire was busy drawing up ways for the Twins to lose game four of their American League Division Series with the New York Yankees.

The seeds were planted for the triple whammy.

By the time we got to the press box, the Gophers were already down, 7-0. Just the start I was looking for.

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In the booth we watched as Princeton took a 7-0 lead on its first offensive play of the game — a 34-yard strike from senior quarterback Matt Verbit to sophomore wide receiver Brian Brigham, who was so open in the back of the end zone that I thought he had jumped in from the sideline after the play started.

We watched as junior kicker Derek Javarone booted a field goal four minutes later to make it 10-0. The Tiger defense was dominating. We had Toothpaste on the ropes.

I glanced into the next booth at a computer that had college football scores constantly refreshing. Michigan 10, Gophers 7 after one.

Then the wheels came off a bit for Princeton. A Colgate touchdown cut it to 10-7. A 76-yard Jamaal Branch run at the end of the half, when the Raiders were just trying to run out the clock so they could scratch their heads in the locker room instead of in front of their fans, made me sick. Princeton was down 14-10 at halftime in a game it had dominated.

To the west in Michigan it was 17-14 Wolverines at the break.

But the Tigers didn't wilt. They fought back, built a 26-14 lead and appeared to have the game wrapped up with under six minutes to play. These were the 2004 Princeton Tigers — maybe it wasn't pretty, but they were finding ways to win.

Meanwhile, the Gophers had pulled ahead, 24-17. I had to remind myself to watch the game I was broadcasting.

Alas, the 2004 version of the Orange and Black had a relapse. Colgate got the ball back and scored in 35 seconds, held the Princeton offense again, then scored in two minutes, 20 seconds. After a two-point conversion, the Raiders were up, 29-26. The wheels were now off and rolling into the ditch.

I got so into the game that I forgot to keep tabs on the Gophers. As we were packing up I heard the bad news. Final score in Ann Arbor: Michigan 27, Minnesota 24.

Not until I got back to Princeton did I find out how the Gophers lost. Michigan took the lead on a 31-yard touchdown pass down the sideline with under two minutes remaining. The ESPN.com story says the receiver "eluded" two tacklers, which is generous considering the second tackler just decided to dive on the ground as if he were a free safety in a video game and I hit the square button too soon.

Two games, two heartbreaking losses. I almost called home to make sure everyone in the family was okay.

But wait! We're not done. We still have a long car ride back and a Twins game that had just gotten underway.

We listened to John Sterling and Charlie Steiner — only because we had no choice, I assure you — sweat as the Twins' Johan Santana continued to baffle Yankee hitters. The Twins needed a win to stay alive, and they had their Cy Young candidate on the hill. I'll take those odds.

First it was 1-0 Minnesota, then 2-1, then 3-1 on a Henry Blanco homerun off a 3-1 pitch from New York's Javier Vazquez.

"Blanco is the worst hitting regular player in the league," Sterling said. "The last thing Vazquez wants to do is walk him."

Next pitch: into the seats. Ironically, that kind of announcer karma would come back as the funeral knell for the Twins.

Dennis and I had just stopped at Wendy's (real food?) for dinner when we were back in the car, finally getting consistent reception as we approached New Jersey. The Twins were up 5-1 now, thanks to our first clutch two-out hit since 1896.

Then Sterling and Steiner got dirty.

"With a four-run deficit and Santana on the hill, this one's all but over."

Now, why would you say something like that? You are the Yankees announcers. You know full well that they could be down 10 and would not be out of it.

Oh . . . I get it . . . you're . . . trying . . . to . . . jinx us. Dirty!

And it worked.

First, Santana only pitched five innings. That makes a lot of freaking sense. Yeah he's on short rest and he's thrown a lot of pitches, but there is no tomorrow. He and Gardenhire must have had plans to hit up Ikea on Sunday morning.

Second, we're in the eighth inning, the Twins' top setup man is in and the Yankees are rallying, already with a run in.

"It will be Mussina and Radke tomorrow night," Sterling said while geriatric slugger Ruben Sierra was up to bat representing the tying run. "Game time is 7:05 p.m."

"Twins just five outs away."

"This one's over."

"It would take a miracle."

"We'll be back in New York tomorrow night."

"If the Yankees win this game, there is no God because it is a cosmic impossibility that they should win and therefore I will do a lap around the concourse naked and sacrifice a lamb if that happens."

. . .

"It is HIGH! It is FAR! HOME RUN, RUBEN SIERRA!"

I could hear the ball whistling through the Metrodome night and sucking all the life out of the building in the process. I vomited my Nutri-Grain bar. At least it wasn't real food.

The rest was inevitable. The Twins were seven outs (two in game two, and five in game four) and $80 million (in payroll) away from pulling the upset.

It was just a couple football games and a baseball game, but to have your teams go 0-3 in one day, one losing by blowing a 12-point lead in the final six minutes, another by blowing a four-point lead in the last two minutes, and the other by blowing a four-run lead with five outs to go . . . Dennis is lucky I didn't careen into a tree.

But wouldn't ya know it, the sun still came up on Sunday. The Vikings won in overtime, the T-Wolves are three weeks away from opening day, and everyone in my family is okay. I'm over it already.

But seriously — how can Santana pull himself out of that game?