Most of you caught wind of this before Batgirl (who made the mistake of being away from her computer for several hours, one which she'll never, ever, ever repeat).

From the Globe:

Doug Mientkiewicz has the ball. The Red Sox want it back. Stay tuned.

Certainly you know which ball we're talking about. By now you've seen the video a couple million times.

Edgar Renteria hits a hard hopper bound for center field. Keith Foulke raises his arms, snags the ball, then trots toward first base -- just to be safe. After seven or eight steps, Foulke underhands the ball to Mientkiewicz and the Red Sox win the World Series for the first time since 1918. It is the Boston sports equivalent of Neil Armstrong's walk on the moon. Small steps for Foulke. A giant leap for Red Sox Nation.

After the historic moment, there is a huge pile of happiness and hair on the Busch Stadium infield. Then there is a champagne-drenched celebration, a joyous plane ride home, a parade with a couple million people, and a World Series trophy tour that covers more ground than the combined campaigns of Kerry and Bush. Soxapalooza.

But no one ever asks about the ball. What happened to the baseball that ended 86 years of Red Sox frustration?

"I've got it," Mientkiewicz said from his Miami home Wednesday. "It's in a safety-deposit box with my Olympic gold medal [Sydney, 2000]. We had it authenticated by Major League Baseball the day after the World Series so no one can claim they have it. That's my retirement fund. A guy offered me 500 bucks for it, but I think it's worth more than that."

Batgirl's e-mail seemed to be running 8-1 against Dougie here, though Batgirl's not sure anyone's really entitled to that ball any more than the guy who catches it. If a fan catches a ball someone wants, some nice usher goes out and offers them signed bats and balls and jock straps and other such incentives. Boston doesn't need to go to the media; just pay Dougie for the ball so he can send his kids to Florida State, give Batgirl her cut, and we can all go back to hating the Yankees.

Oh, and Doug, honey, Batgirl loves you, she does. She adores you and your sticky helmet. But sometimes love is hard, and sometimes silence is golden.