Cleveland at Minnesota. Twins 7, Indians 2.

Batgirl missed the first few innings of the game tonight (the BatTivo still isn't hooked up, meaning, for one thing, Batgirl will not get to watch Project Runway tonight and anyone who reveals anything about Wednesday night's will get banned and subject to a personal fashion critique from Michael Kors, and locked in a small room with Vincent and Angela) so she doesn't know if there's a reason the FSN crew kept flashing their camera at Mike Redmond during tonight's glorious eighth, but whatever the reason it was simply awesome.

In a K-Fan interview this season, Sweetcheeks credited the backup backstop for the lightened clubhouse dynamic this year—mostly, Torii said, due to his habit of walking around in socks and his birthday suit. (Is this, in fact, the reason for the Twins' oh-so-dramatic turnaround? For somehow BG thinks Mike Redmond did not disrobe during the T-Fat era. Something about that guy just makes you want to keep your clothes on.) More than that, he seems to have become the spirit of the team. Every time someone did something good tonight, the camera would flash to him and his little pre-pubescent mustache, on his feet clapping and shouting, jumping up and down in the dugout, running out to be the first person to greet someone who scored, wrapping his arms around them in big hugs—and I don't mean those woosy, I'm-going-to-stand-a-couple-of-inches-away-from-you-and–pat-your-back-really-hard-in-a-way-that-may-cause-you-pain-but-that's-just-how-macho-I-am man hug, but a real live I'm-going-to-hold-you-oh-so-gently-because-that's-how-proud-I-am-plus-I'm-not-wearing-any-underwear hug.

Here's a guy who gets to play once a week, who's back-up to a punk kid with brace mouth who happens to be the greatest baseball player of all time, who spends his life in benchwarmers book club meetings with Li'l Rod and Tiffles, and he's more into the game than anyone else in that clubhouse. Redmond was recently signed to a two year deal with an option for a third year, at which point he will be 97 years old, but Batgirl cares not. When the new park opens in 2010, BG wants Redmond there—in whatever capacity…assistant bench coach, mustache groomer to Wayne Hattaway, Dennys Sampler to Dennys Sampler Reyes, BG cares not—but she wants him there, tapping his nose, screaming from the clubhouse, stripping, stripping, stripping with love of the game and esprit de corps and probably some exhibitionism that should be worked out with a therapist, preferably a Freudian though maybe a Jungian could work too because there are clearly some major symbolism issues—and we'll see him and cheer and we cannot help but take off our clothes too, because it is baseball, it is our privilege to watch it, we stand naked before it, and who the hell needs clothes, anyway?