Readers and critics of late American novelist David Foster Wallace will be thrilled to learn that somehow, someway, SB Nation’s DRaysBay has acquired a previously unheard-of manuscript by that same, great author.

It’s a Choose Your Own Adventure-type novel and has been penned under the pseudonym CBJones, but, owing to the scope of the plot and sheer resonance of the prose, it’s very clearly the work of DFW.

Enjoy it at your own risk by clicking here. And listen to me, please, when I say, “Don’t order The Special!”

Handsome kickboxer Dave Cameron has already, in these very pages, explored the “Best Shape of His Life” phenomenon, which, much like tax software, is too much with us this time of year. You know the routine: this guy lost x number of pounds on a diet of nothing more than falcon’s livers and melted snow, this guy now makes love only in a hyperbaric chamber, this guy had tiny robots put in his eyes, this guy went to a Tony Robbins seminar at the Ramada by the airport, etc. Mostly, these re-stoked innermost fires we hear about amount to nothing.

So it is with great relief that we learn of at least two baseball-ists who are bravely resisting, doughtily storming the Bastille of wellness. Particularly inspiring is the story of young Pirate phenom Pedro Alvarez:

It will take a big man to carry the Pirates offense next season, but not quite as big as Pedro Alvarez happens to be at the moment, sources indicated. Alvarez has put on a few pounds this off-season. At last report, the third baseman had ballooned in excess of 240 pounds, at least 15 pounds more than he finished last season.

If the reports are to be believed, then Latin food and buttercream frosting are the supporting heroes of this story. One player, though, does not make a movement. But two players? Two players make a revolution:

[Joba]Chamberlain appeared to be about 10-15 pounds heavier than last season. That is going to cause alarms to go off in the Yankees universe, but Chamberlain said he feels as if he’s in shape. He even built a gym at his home in Nebraska.

Chamberlain, of course, was already no stranger to the business end of the BMI scale, and now he’s stuffed himself with a few more pounds? Welcome news, yo.

Given the recent disappointing life decisions of CC Sabathia, someone needed to step up and assume the role of “Porcine Robespierre of the Worst Shape of His Life Resistance Movement” — a proud lineage that includes the hot dog-fingered likes of Babe Ruth and Terry Forster.

While hope may not walk among us, thanks to Messers Alvarez and Chamberlain it may well shuffle and trudge and take frequent rests among us.

It’s frequently the case that the human interest-type stories one encounters are just naked attempts on the part of the news outlet in question to generate pathos and manipulate readerly emotions.

Other times, it happens that real life conspires to produce authentic instances of humans behaving well.

Conor Glassey’s story from today’s Baseball America represents the latter case.

In said story, Glassey introduces us to Wake Forest baseball coach Tom Walter, who literally gave a kidney to a freshman on his team, Kevin Jordan, after the latter had developed a rare illness affecting the organ.

Glassey writes:

Jordan moved from his hometown of Columbus, Ga., to Winston-Salem, N.C., for his freshman year in August. But two days before classes began, another doctor’s visit revealed his kidney function was down to 8 percent and a transplant was recommended as soon as possible.

When medical testing of Jordan’s family did not yield a good match, Walter stepped up to the plate to undergo the compatibility-testing process. The entire process took five weeks and the anxiety of not knowing what would happen was more stressful than deciding to start the process in the first place, Walter said.

Walter said that as soon as he had the support of his family, Wake Forest athletic director Ron Wellman and his team, donating a kidney to Jordan was a “no-brainer decision.”

“I would do anything to help any one of my players or any of my family members—anything in my power to help them have a better quality of life is something that I want to do,” Walter said. “Maybe it’s something as little as helping mentor them in their academic pursuits, or helping them choose a major, or something of a greater magnitude like this. My number one priorities in life are my family and my team and I’ll do anything to help any one of those people.”

Obviously, we can’t speak to Walter’s life in toto, but so far as conspicuous acts of generosity go, this is very clearly one of them.

More news like this, please!

H/T: Bad Badler

News from the internet reveals that the Alberta Clipper which descended last night upon the Upper-ish Midwest, has wreaked havoc upon damaged one thing at Chicago’s Wrigley Field.

Regard, courtesy of the Associated Press:

CHICAGO (AP) — Wrigley Field has been damaged by a severe storm that caused tiles to fall from the top of the press box at the 97-year-old ballpark.

Emergency Management spokesman Roderick Drew says high winds from the snowstorm battering Chicago on Tuesday night sent the tiles flying. Two streets near the Chicago Cubs’ famous stadium were closed to cars and pedestrians.

[…]

Drew says high winds were keeping maintenance crews from repairing the tiles. He says crews from the city’s building department were also on the site monitoring the situation.

Unfortunately, for Cubs fans, Alfonso Soriano and Kosuke Fukudome were not affected in any way by the storm.

I’ll submit that — with the exception of the present site, obviously — that the SB Nation network features some of the better baseball writing one can find anywhere. I’ve definitely expressed publicly my feelings for — and made feel awkward in probably a sexual way — writers like Lookout Landing’s Jeff Sullivan, Viva El Birdos’ Dan Moore, and Gaslamp Ball’s jbox. There are, like, six other names I could add to that list of authors who’ve made me feel jealous for something they’ve written

Now, turns out, Rob Neyer is bringing his talents to this particular team, as well — and he (i.e. Neyer) appears determined to make good writing his priority.

From his introductory salvo as SB Nation’s National Baseball Editor:

I’ve got a lot of passions, and generally I won’t bore you with them. But the passion I indulge almost every day of my life is good writing. I crave it, and when I find it, I treasure it. I surround myself with books full of good writing, and I can’t get through the day without scribbling down a brilliant sentence or delightful word in a thick journal that’s always close at hand.

Also, it’s my business. I’m one of the lucky few who gets paid to indulge his first love.

Where the good writing comes from, though, is irrelevant. All that matters is the writing.

You’re paid to write? I know lots of professional writers who either never learned to write well, or have forgotten. You work for a famous website or newspaper? The big boys don’t have a monopoly on good writing, let alone facts.

There are a lot of things to love about SB Nation, which is why I’m here. But among them is that they — excuse me, we — don’t see us as us and you as them. We’ve got bloggers who most professional writers probably consider them … but we know better. We know that some of our writers are every bit as talented and knowledgeable as anyone you’ll find working for newspapers or the Big Boy websites. We also know that today’s readers are tomorrow’s writers, and that often the only difference is opportunity (one fantastic thing about the Web is that opportunity is everywhere).

Nobody’s got a monopoly on good writing, or the facts. If you can come up with one or the other or (ideally) both, you’re in the club. That’s one of the First Principles.

Friend of the blog and all-around ubermensch Rob Neyer is leaving his SweetSpot blog and ESPN, entirely.

From his most recent (and last) post for same:

A Quick Programming Note …

Fifteen years ago, I moved to Seattle to work for a company called Starwave. The company did a lot of things, but I was hired — and this might surprise you — mostly to edit fantasy-related content for a website called ESPNet.SportsZone.com; a few years later, we became the ESPN.com that everyone knows and loves so well.

Frankly, it’s a minor miracle that I’ve been here ever since. I was the new guy, didn’t know how I was supposed to behave, and somewhat routinely ran afoul of my bosses and their bosses. I owe a great deal to their good graces, and I’m sorry I can’t thank everyone who’s allowed me to do what I love for so long. I will toss extra hosannas to Geoff Reiss, David Schoenfield, and David Kull, for reasons they know only too well. Collectively, they’re No. 2 on the all-time list.

You’re No. 1.

Whether you’ve been reading my ramblings since 1996 or just since last week, you have my profound, impossible-to-express-in-words gratitude. There is not a working writer on Earth who’s more grateful than I for his readers. Without you, I would have nothing.

Today, I hand off this space to whoever’s next. I don’t know yet who is next, but I’m highly confident that this blog and the SweetSpot Network will soon be in excellent hands.

Meanwhile, I’ll be around. The kids tell me it’s all about search these days. You won’t have to search real hard to find me, if you want.

Happy trails, until we meet again.

Perhaps I, personally, will include some thoughts on Neyer’s departure in this space laters on today.

In the meantime, don’t hesitate to include your own Neyer-related stories in the comments.

Once upon a time, NotGraphs engaged only in the most serious of reportage and most whimsical of inspired flights.

Then Dayn Perry joined our ranks, and — well — I think I’m understating the case when I say that he left a wake of destruction in his, uh, wake.

As that old saying goes, though, “When life hands you lemons, use the zest of those lemons to make a great Moroccan Charbroiled Lamb & Fennel Stew with 7 Seed Couscous.” (Seriously.) Which is why I feel only modest chagrin when I announce to the bespectacled readership that, apparently, Boston Righty and Inveterate Texaner Josh Beckett has married, very literally, a rocket scientist.

I say “literally,” but I’ll admit that she’s officially described as an “aeronautics engineer,” and I don’t understand the difference, and the Boston Herald’s socialite pages describe her (i.e. Holly Fisher) as a “rocket scientist,” and those are definitely right.

Seeing as it’s only been, like, 33 hours since we at NotGraphs linked to the OC Register, it’s probably time to do that again, posthaste.

While, last time, we celebrated Sam Miller’s proclivity for the word cloud-related arts, today we look at writer Bill Plunkett’s capacities as a journalistic hype man.

Regard this headline, from Plunkett’s latest submission to the Angels Blog:

As the reader has likely already guessed, the remainder of the article isn’t about baseball at all, but rather just the lyrics to 1991’s smash-hit single “Good Vibrations.”

This slice o’ genius over at DRaysBay is the best bit of Internetty-sportsy deconstruction I’ve run across since this … or maybe this.

Anyhow, this blessed little photo mash-up tells the story better than I can …

That, folks, is GomesRage, and despite what Reds fans might tell you, GomesRage is alive and well at the Trop. I don’t want to over-summarize and dull the wonders to be found within this featured link, but let’s just say the 2011 Rays, despite a talent exodus and budget so tight that a strategic default on a delivery pizza is a realistic possibility, can still throw the beefs. As you’ll see and savor, the post’s author, CBJones, proves it with fancy numbers, including Acronym of This and Any Other Millennium BRAWLFENSE. Even if it weren’t an acronym, BRAWLFENSE demands to be capitalized!

In a related matter, the NotGraphs Investigative Reporting Investigation Team has uncovered footage of the 2011 Rays at work and play in the mean streets of St. Pete:

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

(Thanks to cherished reader Cooper Toledo and his awesome name for the heads-up. And, yes, it’s apparently On-Field Violence Day here at NotGraphs. Celebrate it with someone you loathe!)

That, near and dear, is Ed Wade viewed from behind — or what he’ll look like to his doomed Houston Marathon competitors!

Yes, the Astros’ front-office lever-puller is in training to run that aforementioned Houston Marathon, and earnest props to him. Running that far without stopping is impressive enough, but doing so at Wade’s age of 54? Nifty indeed. I’m substantially younger than Ed Wade, and last night all I did was drink a sherpa’s load of Two-Buck Chuck and then set up an email alert to remind me to clip my toenails.

Really, though, I exercise regularly and have a treadmill that does not presently double as extra closet space, yet if I tried to run 26.2 miles my hips and groin would fly off after about mile 10 or so and annihilate everyone within the blast field. So congrats to Ed Wade for defying age and doing something not many of us have the will to achieve. And congrats to the Astros for having an AARP-eligble GM who’s in better shape than their left fielder.