If Tim Parks, author of A Season with Verona (i.e. a real book that real people can really read) is to be believed, the fans of Italian football club Hellas Verona frequently chant — when they’re not making moderately to very racist remarks — frequently chant the words “facci sognare,” an Italian expression meaning “make us dream.”

It’s likely that readers of NotGraphs and FanGraphs, etc., follow baseball for a number of reasons. For the present author, however, it’s the sport’s capacity to facilitate dreaming that is its greatest strength. Offseason projections, prospect analysis, every Max Scherzer start: each is an exercise in the art of the possible. And each, I think, gestures at a version of a future that is perfect.

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A participant in Dave Cameron’s World Series Game One chat requested that Hunter Pence be placed in what hitherto has been known as “Brad Pitt’s Awkward Chanel No. 5 Ad.” Henceforth, it shall be known as “Hunter Pence’s Awesome Chanel No. 5 Ad.” Lo:

With hat.

Sans hat; w/ face lift.

Never one to be parted from his fatig, my indefatigable colleague Mr. Cistulli has taken the trouble to catalogue the many instantiations of Tigers and Giants, while raising the question of how each would fare in a fair fight. I lustily applaud his work. And yet it must be observed that he has considered only one class of possible outcomes of Tiger-on-Giant action. What of the possibility — vanishing though it may be! — that, upon encountering one another in the sensuous confines of American Telephone & Telegraph Park, the aforementioned protagonists should be compelled to spontaneously procreate and unleash their monstrous spawn? Should our loins not be girded for that shocking eventuality?

They should. And here are some potential outcomes that we’d be wise to consider. They would all be horrible. Which would be the most horrible? You, gentle and heretofore bare-loined reader, be the judge.

Tiger Giant Sex Medicine For Penis Enlargement

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Edited, 1:46 PM: I have been reminded by the commenters that, indeed, most of what I post– most of everything over here at NotGraphs– is of far less critical importance than even the tiniest details about uniforms. And, furthermore, uniforms are awesome, and the fact that someone gets paid to write about them is even more awesome. And I was probably just in a cranky mood last night when I wrote this post because I just found out Munenori Kawasaki was released. In short: Uniforms are awesome. Uni-watch, as I begin to delve into the archives, is super-awesome. Most of what’s written over here is of far less consequence. My challenge to the commenters still holds: give me an obscure topic, and I will do my best to write something awesome about it.

From “A Guide to Uni Watch-ing the World Series” at ESPN:

3. Le grand orange. The Giants and Tigers both have orange trim on their uniforms (albeit only on the road in Detroit’s case). This marks the first time we’ve had two orange-clad World Series teams since 1984, when the Tigers faced the Padres.

This piece is written by Paul Lukas, “sports’ only full-time uniform reporter.” Maybe I just don’t read ESPN often enough, or care enough about uniforms– and, really, a full-time gig writing about uniforms seems like a cool enough job from a writer’s perspective– but, really? There is a full-time uniform reporter? There is enough to say about uniforms without ending up writing about how this is the first World Series between two teams with orange trim since… oh, wait.

5. Loop-de-loop. Most MLB pants have wide belt tunnels. But the Tigers use conventional belt loops — lots and lots of belt loops. The loops have been a Tigers visual signature at least since the days of Al Kaline. Why? No reason — just one of those little quirks.

On the one hand, I can’t imagine anyone cares about this. On the other hand, I find myself reading it. It is actually sort of interesting. But, really?

Okay, a challenge! Can we come up with some even more ridiculous awesome sports beats than full-time uniform reporter? Real or invented, the more ridiculous awesome the better. Give me a few ideas in the comments and perhaps I will try my hand at writing some of these columns over the next few weeks. Like, say, a piece about Hat Sizes of Backup Catchers, or Double Letters in the names of Cubs in MLB History. (Damon Berryhill could appear in both columns… anyone else?)

Earlier today in these pages, we utilized the great American tradition of submitting your opinion electronically to the void (a.k.a. polling) as a means of determining with zero shadows of doubts who would win in various Mortal Kombat-style battles between various sorts of tigers and other, various sorts of giants — i.e. the mascots of the team competing in the World Series that’s about to begin.

The polls are closed and the shadows of doubt dissolved by the bright light of Mass Opinion. Regard the answers below, brothers and sister!

Tiger Mom vs. Giant Rabbit

Winner: Tiger

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Yes, the 108th World Series is commencing tonight, but what people really care about is, Where Is Ryan Braun?

Turns out, Brauny has been popping up all over the place this off-season (known to fans of winning teams as the “post-season”), and thanks to the work of the NotGraphs Investigative Reporting Investigation Team, we’re able to keep you abreast of his whereabouts.

First we found him at the the presidential debates:

Hi.

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Over the past two years, we in Toronto had taken to calling John Farrell “President Farrell.” Fine, it was mostly only me who called him “President Farrell,” and I enjoyed it. Being a Canadian, I can admit it: I’ve always wanted a president. And Farrell was oh so presidential, especially when donned in a suit and tie. And, of course, there is his presidential jawline. As you can see, below, President Farrell has no neck, only a jaw.

President Farrell is, of course, no more, his term cut short, his office and administration abandoned in disgrace. And our Investigative Reporting Investigation Team’s Canadian office has secured for us a transcript of President John Farrell’s resignation speech, delivered to the Blue Jays front office, and broadcast live over the weekend at the SkyDome for a few select season-ticket holders.

Good evening.

This is the 19th time I have spoken to you from this office, where so many decisions have been made that shaped the history of the Toronto Blue Jays. Each time I have done so to discuss with you some matter that I believe affected the franchise’s interest.

In all the decisions I have made in my baseball life, I have always tried to do what was best for the Boston Red Sox; for Red Sox Nation. Throughout the long and difficult period of managing the Blue Jays, I have felt it was my duty to persevere, to make every possible effort to complete the term of office to which I, Alex Anthopoulos, Paul Beeston, and the entire front office agreed upon.

In the past few days, however, it has become evident to me that I no longer have a strong desire to justify continuing that effort. As you may have noticed, the Red Sox need a new manager. As long as they had a manager — yes, even Bobby Valentine — I felt strongly that it was necessary to manage the Blue Jays through to the conclusion of my contract, that to do otherwise would be unfaithful to the spirit of that deliberately difficult process that was my hiring and a dangerously destabilizing precedent for the future.

But with the firing of Bobby Valentine, and the mutual interest between the Red Sox and myself, I now believe that my purpose with the Blue Jays has been served, and there is no longer a need for the process to be prolonged.

I would have preferred to carry through to the finish whatever the personal agony it would have involved, and my family unanimously urged me to do so. But the interest of Red Sox Nation must always come before any personal considerations.

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Outspoken and much maligned manager of the Miami Marlins, Ozzie Guillen, was, very recently, told he’s not allowed to do that job anymore. This frees Mr. Guillen to look for another job.

The NotGraphs Investigative Reporting Investigation Team has acquired, through means most nefarious, Ozzie Guillen’s recent job searches. I share them now with you, the fair NotGraphs reader.

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Carlton Fisk was arrested and charged with DUI last night…after being found sleeping in his car in an Illinois corn field with an open bottle of vodka in his truck with him. Fisk’s truck had a flat tire.

It goes without saying that, at NotGraphs, we’re dedicated to those twin pursuits of the Western Tradition, art and science. Even more than that, though, what we’re dedicated to is driving the most possible traffic with the least possible content. In conclusion: polls.

Yesterday, in these same electronic pages, the author began his attempt to answer what is less of an age-old question and more of a starting-two-days-ago question — namely, if one were to pick the winner of the World Series based entirely on the fighting prowess of each team’s mascot, who would win? That query was problematized, naturally, by the fact that there are many types of giant things. Giant rabbits, for example. And giant, disembodied eyes, for other example, washed up on Floridian shores. And giant hill figures with impressive, giant phalluses (phalli?), also.

What the author has discovered even more recently — after ruminating on the matter for, like, five seconds — is that there are different types of tigers, too. And not just different species of tigers, I mean, but, like, other nouns in the vernacular that have the word tiger and then another word altogether.

Surely, then, what is needed is multiple polls to determine the winners of multiple Mortal Kombat-style battles to determine the winner of this one, determinative query — which, that’s what’s happening now.

Results will appear in a second, sparsely worded post — sure to drive its own share of traffic — minutes before the beginning of tonight’s World Series game at 8pm ET.

Tiger Mom vs. Giant Rabbit

One is a strict Chinese mother who teaches law at Yale. The other is a German breed of rabbit that weighs 20 or something pounds.

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