Baseball caps are funny things. They have certainly become as much a part of our culture as the sweatshirt and t-shirt, and though they will not challenge the likes of Armani or Bill Blass--both of whom probably shudder in the tradition of Jeeves when they see caps donned by the bulk of the populace--baseball hats are, well, here to stay.

And baseball caps, with their dirty sweat-soaked band and bill, and variations, such as the "rally cap," are certainly totems of baseball voodoo from time to time, but, then, baseball itself is so rooted in an odd combination of tradition, statisitics, and superstition, what could we expect?

But, the cap is not deep like, shall we say, an AL-only league or more specifically its cousin, the top hat; that special headgear associated with formals and magic. But that does not mean a baseball cap--or at least the folks under them--cannot wield magic.

Not to mention the sacred "streak," upon which Crash Davis waxes so eloquently in Bull Durham, mixing faith with mysticism and reality.

The truth is, Davis is correct. Baseball people know that streaks happen, and when they do, there is a an utter propensity to leave it alone.

I write this while thinking of my own Strat '69 team, which I have written, has been mired in mediocrity as we replay the summer I graduated from high school, not to mention the summer of Woodstcok.

Certainly, as Dean Peterson pointed out in his Strat-O-Various column this week, the three division titles have been won--by JP Kastner, Eugene Still, and Brendan Roberts--but, the wild card spot is still up for grabs.

And, call it luck or due diligence or magic, my Oakland Graduates are in the wild card catbird seat. True, it is only by a game over Ron Shandler's Long Island Ducks and two over Eric Karabell's Philly Connie Macks. Which is interesting in that I thought Peter Kreutzer's Brooklyn Kreutzers were the ones to give me grief, but, after sweeping them in a three-game series Monday, the Graduates suddenly have a four-game lead over the them with 18 games left to play.

While I was back east last week, consorting with my industry buds who are in this league, I acknowledged that if I had any hope to do anything in the league, it would be now, and it would be because my team had not yet had a hot streak.

At present, with the Strat-O setup, each week we play seven three-game series or one three-game series per night. And, going into this final timeframe, my weekly records for the first seven weeks were:

1. 12-9
2. 10-11
3. 8-13
4. 11-10
5. 9-14
6. 12-9
7. 12-9

This week, I began by sweeping the Kreutzers, as noted, and my mark stands at 77-73.

Now obviously anything can happen in this tight of a race with that many games left. But, again, my team was basically a .500 team until last week, and we have really only moved past that benchmark in the last 24 hours.

Now, I do think I can win because I think I am finally on my long overdue streak, and I think that could not happen at a better time.

And, as surely as streaks are lucky, so goes it in the Show that the team that is hot at the right time often brings home the prize.

Now you might doubt that based upon the numbers above, I am not really on a streak, or if I am, it is not too impressive. And you would be right, especially say in comparison to Eugene's Stratosphere Dukes who have won 12 straight series.

But, as Crash Davis noted, if you think you are on a streak, you are on a streak.

I wrote several weeks ago that in an effort to charge up my Graduates I moved my biggest--and fastest--hitter, Reggie Jackson, into the leadoff spot. And, well, my team has improved since then, even if it is a marginal improvement.

But, in thinking about anything I could do to tweak my roster these last few series, my first thought was to move Reggie back into the three hole. But in thinking about the success since the move, the decision that came to me was: "don't mess with it."

I rest my case.