Mike Who?: In Praise of Mike Redmond

Wedge Antilles. 

That name should be recognizable to a very select number of Star Wars diehards. As the franchise approaches its 30th anniversary, it would seem an appropriate time to discuss what Wedge's character means to sports fans everywhere.

And yes, I swear—this actually will have something to do with baseball.

In the first trilogy of Star Wars movies, Wedge Antilles is the only minor character to make it through each of the three major battles—including the two assaults on the Death Stars. That durability made him one of the most popular Star Wars characters among people who obsess over such things, and today a "Wedge-type" character is known as one who survives a literary series despite playing a peripheral role in the story.

Which brings me to my point: To understand Mike Redmond, you must understand Wedge Antilles.

Mike Redmond is a 36-year-old career backup catcher currently playing for the Minnesota Twins.  He's never been in an All-Star Game. He's never won an award. His six-figure salary is an afterthought in a game filled with millionaires.  

Redmond, like all backup catchers, is one of the nameless peons of Major League Baseball.

Mike hasn't played much since breaking into the big leagues with the Florida Marlins in 1998, but when he has he's been more than competent. His Range Factor and fielding percentage are both above average. He's also a career .294 hitter with a .350 OBP—both excellent numbers considering that most backup catchers barely manage to hit their weight.

And still there's something more to Mike Redmond.

When Joe Mauer went on the DL with a hamstring strain, Redmond stepped up and proved he could play every day; in Mauer's absence, Redmond has hit an impressive .359. His six seasons with a batting average over .300 rank eighth all-time among catchers with at least 100 at bats.  He has hit .324 since joining the Twins in 2005.

Somewhere, deep down, there's an All-Star in Mike Redmond.

Don't get me wrong—I'm not suggesting we add "Backup Catcher" to the All-Star ballot.  At the age of 36, Redmond's an unlikely candidate to turn his career around and become a household name...no matter how much some of us might enjoy it when the old man slaps a ball down the right field line and shuffles to first base.

I only wish there was some way to give credit where it's due.

How to honor Redmond and his minor-character ilk? Maybe some sort of distinction for incredible performances that get lost in the background—a sort of baseball counterpoint to the Academy's "Best Supporting Actress" statuette. 

Of course, "Best Player in a Backup Role" would be something of a mouthful.

Might I suggest we just call it "The Wedge Award "