Twins at Cleveland. Toons 9, Twins 7.

You've got to hand it to a guy who, upon getting drafted in the second round when he was 18, declared himself "The Real Deal." I mean, that takes chutzpah. Batgirl tried it; she called up Goober and told him, "From now on, I'd like to be called 'The Real Deal.'" Goober said, "How about 'The Real Dork?'" Batgirl sighed, then told the BatKitties, "BatKitties, from now on I'd like to be known as 'The Real Deal,'" and the BatKitties turned away and murmured something disdainful in their secret BatKitty language. She went over to Jeb and told him, "Jeb, from now on, I'd like to be known as 'The Real Deal,'" and he squinted at her, frowned, then proclaimed, "Wife! Make me some pie!"

Okay, no he didn't. Jeb would never say anything like that, despite his incredible fondness for pie. Particularly cherry, though, really, he'll be happy with whatever. The point is, it takes a special kind of person to proclaim himself "The Real Deal," and an even special-er one to make the name stick for four years without once getting beaten up. Why, he's come all the way to the bigs and as far as Batgirl can tell, no one's taken a sock at him.

Though he has flirted with danger. When he came up this September, he sauntered up to the bullpen and reintroduced himself to catcher Henry Blanco, who was trimming his many calluses with his trusty six-inch knife.
"Excuse me, Mr. Blanco?" said J.D. Hello, Mr. Blanco, I'm J.D. Durbin, you might remember me from Spring Training?"
"Sure," Blanco said, not looking up. "You're The Real Deal."
"That's right, I am. But you can just call me J.D."
"Gee, thanks, kid," said Blanco.
"No problem," said J.D.
"I've got a nickname, too," said Blanco.
"I know!" said J.D. "Mango Face!"
Blanco looked up, and held out his knife. It gleamed in the sunlight Dome light. His eyes glinted like steel. "Don't," he said through clenched teeth, "call me Mango Face."

Does calling yourself the Real Deal make it so? It didn't so much today, unless being the Real Deal means walking everyone and their mother. It's one thing to walk Matt Lawton, but it's really embarrassing when you turn around and walk his mom. She's not even on the 40-mom roster. They had to put Casey Blake's mom on waivers (she got claimed by the KC Royals, which super-bummed out Casey) and then moved Mrs. Riske down to AAA Momville, all to make room for Mrs. Lawton so The Real Deal could walk her. Which he promptly did.

Batgirl always appreciates optimism and confidence—as long as its earned—and TRD has certainly earned it in his minor league career. She worries, though, that his call-up will start a rampant series of hopeful self-nicknaming amongst the Twins. Speedy McBlanco. The Lohsest with the Mostest. Nicky the Giant Man. Justin MorFacialHair. Nubile Young Koskie. Juanna Get My Braces Off. Grant NoBalls. Batgirl can just see it now, "Hey, Real Deal, how's it hanging?"
"Just great, Grant NoBalls, how are you?"
"Pretty good. I didn't have any balls yesterday."
"Well, that's why they call you Grant NoBalls."
"I know, Real Deal. I know."
"Oh hey, Real Deal! Hey NoBalls!"
"Hey Matty LeCanCatchPeopleStealing, what's up?"
"I think I'm going to be catching for NoBalls tomorrow!"
"Wow, I bet you'll catch people stealing!"
"Naw, there isn't going to be anyone on base, thanks to good ol' Grant NoBalls."
"Ha! Ha! You're right!"
"Oh, look, it's Aaron HasAFutureInATwinsUniform. Hi Aaron!"
"Hi LeCanCatchPeopleStealing, Hi Real Deal, Hi NoBalls!"
"Hey, Real Deal, who's that over there?"
"Where, NoBalls?"
"Over there. In the clubhouse. About yay high. Beard. Venezuelian."
"I don't know. Maybe that's Johan K. Santana?"
"Hmmm…Johan K. Santana? Why do they call him that?"
"Beats me, NoBalls. Beats me."

Meanwhile, call Batgirl "Batgirl von LookingForwardToSeeingJohanPitchTomorrow." And that, my friends, is a nickname we can all support.