You're looking at the wrong thing.
It's understandable. A bat goes flying in the air, end over end, propelled into the night in a fit of passion, and it inevitably draws every eye laid upon it. There is something magnetic about a bat flip, and the one Fernando Tatis Jr. unleashed Thursday night -- the night he introduced himself to baseball's postseason with his trademark vigor -- was oozing with polarity.
After watching it once or twice or 500 times -- any number is acceptable, honestly -- make sure to check the side view. And at the first half-flip or so of the 3½ revolutions of the bat's ultimate journey, pause it, slow it down, scrub it at quarter speed.