As you can see, courtesy of WEEI.com’s Full Count blog, not only does Bobby Valentine “get down,” but Bobby Valentine “gets down” while wearing the pinkest pink shirt that’s ever existed. (Do not look directly at it.) That’s just how he rolls. And I have to admit, I dig it.

And then, just when I thought I couldn’t possibly respect Valentine any more, I found what you’re about to enjoy, below: Bobby Valentine dancing his ass off in a Japanese music video:

Oh, those Japanese. Now, I still don’t know what the hell to make of that, what we just saw, but what I do know is that, even though I hate the Boston Red Sox with an incredible passion, I’m glad Bobby V’s back on this side of the pond, and in the spotlight. Valentine’s riling up the Yankees, Jeter and A-Rod, and taking shots at Tito; ask yourself: are you not entertained? It’s going to be a wild ride in Boston, and I can’t wait. May Valentine forever dance, and forever manage, as if nobody’s watching.

“It was our church. It was our heaven. It was everything.”
— Bill Kent, President, New York Baseball Giants Nostalgia Society

I’ve had the pleasure, in my 29 years on this planet, of watching Major League Baseball in each of the 30 cities the beautiful game is played. I’ve seen many a stadia. But it’s a damn shame I’ll never get to see Polo Grounds.

H/T: My man @mighty_flynn.

If Batting Stance Guy thought his job was safe, he was wrong; he’s got company. Witness:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s983TpLdTdU

J.P. Arencibia’s OBP leaves a lot to be desired, there’s no doubt, but he brings the laughs. And, sometimes, that’s enough. I’m with Tito: I hope JPA wins the MVP.

H/Ts: The one and only Buster Olney, and the equally one and only Emma Span.

Over the long weekend, I visited YouTube.com and typed “Dick Allen” into the search box. I think it’s important for you to know that the Dick Allen Research Department lives up to its name. Here’s what I found:

Now, I don’t know about you, but that was the first, actual, in-game footage of Dick Allen I’d ever witnessed. And I couldn’t have picked a better video. I’ll always remember my first time.

He fires a breaking pitch, but Allen connects solidly, and there it goes! It’s way, way back! It’s a home run! A 400-footer that sails into the bleachers in deep right-center. Now that pitch was in a perfect spot, low and outside, and it’s a tribute to Allen’s great strength that he could slam a pitch like that such a tremendous distance.

Indeed. Dick Allen, y’all.

Presented without comment:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hO3LxJdnqa0&

Actually, I do have a comment: Long live Tony Plush.

H/T: @TheRealTPlush.

“Some Common Weaknesses Illustrated” by Mr. @cistulli is only $0.99 for the Kindle. It’d be rude not to buy it at that price.

— Craig Robinson (@flipflopflying) January 26, 2012

I’ve got to admit, it was pretty fantastic listening to a Britisher, the one and only Mr. Craig Robinson, talk about baseball, among other things, last week on FanGraphs Audio. That accent, man; gets me every time. Although, I will say, it pained me deeply to learn that the legend behind Flip Flop Fly Ball, the man who’s led me — led all of us — on numerous baseball infographic adventures, is a New York Yankeees supporter. The horror.

Anyway, after listening to Mr. Robinson wax poetic about baseball, Mexico City, and the remix of R. Kelly’s “Feelin’ On Your Booty,” I came across his tweet, embedded above, about the works of NotGraphs’s Supreme Leader, Carson Cistulli. As a Canadian, and therefore the definitive opposite of “rude,” I felt it was my patriotic duty to buy “Some Common Weaknesses Illustrated.” I mean, the cover alone is worth the $0.99. (Or $1.03 Canadian.) And, let me tell you, the book didn’t disappoint. Cistulli is one of the greatest poets of our time; a real-life Rafael de la Ghetto, if I may.

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In which the Royal We insert Dick Allen’s name into various works representative of the Western Canon, thus adding to those various works the patina of blessedness.

Today’s episode: A brother pleads with his sister to understand the immense power of Dick Allen, in J.D. Salinger’s other book, “Franny and Zooey.”

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If I learned anything from Moneyball, it’s that they do everything differently out in Oakland.

And, yes, this was my favorite part of the movie, and the reason why Jonah Hill is nominated for an Oscar. What a fist-pump. What a performance.

A fist-pump of my own to my man James. Yes, he’s the same brilliant soul that brought us the bunny-hopping Blue Jays. Keep up the great work, mate.

Gary Carter was before my time. I wasn’t alive during the height of his years with the Montreal Expos, and was only four years old when he and the New York Mets did the world a favor, winning the 1986 World Series in seven games. By the time I found baseball, Gary Carter was in the twilight of his career. I don’t remember ever watching him play.

With news of Carter’s worsening condition in his difficult journey with cancer, and having read some of his daughter Kimmy Bloemers’ heartbreaking journal entries about her father’s illness, I’m tempted, as a student of baseball history, to read everything I can about Carter, about his time in Montreal, and his time in Queens. I want to listen to Carter’s Hall of Fame speech, dive into SI’s Vault, and even watch the stupendously thrilling — by all accounts — 1986 World Series. And I’m going to do all that. But, before I do, and most of all, I want to hear from those who watched Gary Carter — revered by all, it seems — play baseball not as journalists, but as fans. I want to know how you remember Gary Carter. I want you to tell me, someone who never watched Carter play the game, what it was like to do so.

What do you remember? What does Gary Carter mean to you?

Tell me about “The Kid.”

Image courtesy The Associated Press, via CBS News.

Last week, my world’s collided. Let me explain: I work by day as a producer on a nightly current affairs television program up here in God’s city, Toronto, called The Agenda with Steve Paikin, producing one-on-one interviews on a myriad of topics, and moonlight as a very mediocre sports writer by night. The inimitable host of our program, veteran journalist, great Canadian, and the hardest working man in show business, Steve Paikin, is a huge baseball fan. He’s got a framed painting of Ted Williams in his office. I’m quite certain that if Steve weren’t a Boston Red Sox fan, he’d be perfect. And, so, when veteran Toronto Sun baseball scribe Bob Elliott got the call to Cooperstown, winning the 2012 J.G. Taylor Spink Award, Steve invited him into our studio for an interview. Now, Bob Elliott’s usually on the other end of this equation; he’s the one asking the questions. But when Steve Paikin invites you on The Agenda, you don’t turn him down. So Elliott sat down with Paikin, magic happened, and television was made.

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