Deion Sanders, trying to bring fashion to bloggers at the Van Heusen Institute of Style #BWB4 Kickoff Party also presented by Captain Morgan & Guinness Black Lager.

What is a blog? What is a blogger?

At BlogsWithBalls 4.0, hosted this past weekend by Bloomberg Sports in their fabulous digs, those questions seemed prevalent. Though never specifically addressed, the struggle to define the blog and its writer simmered below the surface. Questions of access, funding, and innovation were all debated openly in the mostly excellent panels and yet it often felt like an element was missing.

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Believe it.

By now you’ve heard that legendary Marlins’ closer Leo Nunez (28) is actually Juan Carlos Oviedo (29). Eric Augenbraun has nicely filled in the details. It is a sad situation, and one hopes that Oviedo (who probably just didn’t want people back home in the Dominican to know he was playing for the Pirates and Royals) manages to resolve things and gets back to playing in the majors again soon.

However, the truth has to come out, and our crack Investigative Reporting Investigation Team has unearthed many other major leaguers players and even executives are working under assumed names. Read on for The Truth, and don’t say you weren’t warned. Your world may never be the same.

Assumed Name: Real Name

Alex Gordon: Jim Halpert

Jason Bay: Alexei Ramirez

Scott Baker: Joe Randa

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Prior to Saturday’s game between the Atlanta Braves and Washington Nationals at Nationals Park, our Investigative Reporting Investigation Team, in the U.S. capital to collect another one of our many awards, caught up with the always personable Thomas Jefferson. The principal author of the Declaration of Independence and third President of the great United States, Jefferson is now well retired, save for a few part-time hours with the Nationals.

“I like to think of it as consulting work,” said the Man of the People.

Jefferson chatted with NotGraphs about the Nationals’ season, their second-best since moving south from Montreal, the return of Stephen Strasburg, and — most colorfully about — Jayson Werth’s disappointing campaign.

“Werth? I hate to go all David Ortiz on you, and it’s not very Presidential-like of me, but, well, f*ck. Werth’s awful,” Jefferson said. “I knew this was how this story was going to end. The contract was a mistake. Even Keith Law agrees. And he’s arguably the most brilliant baseball mind at our collective disposal.”

Unfortunately for Jefferson, his comments were leaked to Werth, who, in the moments before the game began, confronted the President in the Nationals locker room. Werth was very animated, a season’s worth of frustration boiling over, and had to be restrained, after yelling: “I’m sick of [Jefferson]! Lincoln and Washington, too! I’ll take them all on! Except Teddy. Teddy’s my boy.”

Cooler heads prevailed. Until Saturday afternoon’s President’s Race, when Jayson Werth, with the help of some of his teammates, made through on his promise. Witness:

No word yet on the severity of the injuries suffered by Presidents Jefferson, Lincoln and Washington. Teddy Roosevelt has a mild concussion. He’s resting comfortably at home.

Image courtesy The Associated Press, via Daylife.

The heinous act above — the silencing of Tony Campana — was captured by a brave Getty Images photographer last Thursday. Naturally, as you’ve by now come to expect, we sent one of our correspondents, part of our award-winning Investigative Reporting Investigation Team, to, well, investigate.

When asked over the weekend about what exactly happened in the dugout at Great American Ball Park last week, all the color, all the joie de vivre, as Chairman Cistulli would say, left Tony Campana’s face. He wouldn’t speak. He couldn’t speak. Campana shook his head, from left to right.

“Is that a ‘no comment’?” our intrepid reporter asked.

Campana, again, said nothing. He shook his head once more, this time up and down. No comment.

Our investigate reporter pressed on. (This is why we’ve won awards.) Finally, after looking to his left, and then to his right, Campana motioned for our reporter to move in, to get closer. Then Campana whispered:

“… I see Carlos Zambrano.”

As soon as Campana had opened up to us, had let NotGraphs in, Alfonso Soriano walked by in the clubhouse, and stopped to the right of our reporter. Soriano then took two fingers, pointed them at his eyes, and pointed them at Campana. The interview was over.

Tony Campana’s been through a lot in his young life. He’s forever been told that he was too small to play in The Show. He’s battled, and beaten, Hodgkin’s lymphoma. Now he’s in for the toughest fight of his life: Being a Chicago Cub.

Image courtesy, as mentioned, the one and only Getty Images. Via Daylife.

We’re always trying to search for meaning here, even (especially?) among the Joe West ejections and hot GIF action posts. So when we hit this next picture from a Mets game, it was clear that the search must continue. Why? Why?

Can you spot the second meme?

Well, so, yeah. Why? I mean we can find the original Banaphone song by Raffi and there’s little that seems to predict the explosion of an internet meme. The word ‘ring’ might make up half of the lyrics, and the topics, yeah he sings for children:

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Last night, in the second inning of the Giants-Padres game, San Franciscan Brett Pill hit his first major-league home run in what was — if you can frigging believe it, reader — his first major-league plate appearance.

There was a lot of what you might call joie de vivre, esprit de corps, and other useful French expressions unfolding up and down the length of the Giant dugout in the aftermath of little Brett Pill’s accomplishment.

Perhaps no one felt this joy so acutely, though, as Giant first baseman-cum-elder statesman Aubrey Huff, who, if appearances are to be believed, is, in fact, the birth father of the young Pill.

While there is no conclusive information as of yet regarding Huff’s paternity, the reader should know that our Investigative Reporting Investigation Team has recently acquired a DNA sample from Huff in what is frequently referred to as “the hard way.”

A.J. Burnett got rocked. Again. By the Baltimore Orioles, no less.

Burnett’s August numbers are straight ghoulish. He’s allowed 30 runs in 22.2 innings, and 44 hits. Forty-four. So long, WHIP! August opponents — Baltimore, Minnesota, Kansas City, Los Angeles, and Chicago — have teed off of A.J., to the tune of a .415 batting average.

While the New York Yankees remain a lock for the postseason, Burnett’s teammates have had just about enough. In the second inning of Friday night’s game in Baltimore, NotGraphs’ omnipresent Investigative Reporting Investigation Team overheard the following conversation between Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriguez:

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Many, many tears have been shed at the Little League World Series. A bit too many, for my liking. But even I have my limits. Even I understand when someone’s gone too far, and when crying in baseball is completely acceptable.

Sure, Cumberland, Rhode Island’s young Christopher Wright struck out to end the game, his New England squad went down in defeat, again, and their dream of a Little World Series title died a gut-wrenching death. But that did kitten really have to die? How many kittens will be sacrificed in the Little League World Series until we all stand up and say, “No. Enough!”

Even Joe West thought the umpire, caught in the despicable act above, went too far. When reached for comment by our Investigative Reporting Investigation Team, West said only this:

He’s gone!

At this time, we’re unable to determine whether Cowboy Joe meant the umpire, or the kitten. Both, perhaps.

H/Ts: The Score’s @JerkInTheCorner for the lovely Photoshop-age, and The Associated Press, via daylife, for the original image. Keep up the great work. All of you.

Curiously, much of Dick Allen’s original scouting report is written in Greek.

Over at NY Baseball Digest, the keeper of that site, Mike Silva, has shared with the reader three photos he took from a recent sojourn to the Baseball Hall of Fame — photos, specifically, of three original scouting reports on three excellent baseball players.

It’s a coincidence that, shortly after noon today, the NotGraphs Investigative Reporting Investigation Team itself came into possession of a similar item — namely, an original scouting report of Dick Allen.

Curiously, the report is devoid of the sort of language one might expect. There are no comments, for example, regarding Allen’s arm strength or his speed on the basepaths.

Instead we find these somewhat cryptic, barely relevant, notes:

• “Never suckled at his mother’s breast and instead was fed the innards of lions, wild swine, and bear marrow.”
• “Anointed in ambrosia and put on top of a fire to burn away mortal parts of body.”
• “μῆνιν ἄειδε θεὰ Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆος οὐλομένην, ἣ μυρί’ Ἀχαιοῖς ἄλγε’ ἔθηκεν.”

You’ve heard the news by now, surely, the cat having been let out of its proverbial bag. As reported by ESPN on Wednesday, the Toronto Blue Jays are sign stealers; the Toronto Blue Jays are cheaters.

I found the report deeply disturbing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not troubled by the undeniable facts that prove the Blue Jays are cheating. Not at all. What’s most troublesome about the revelations, to me, a proud Blue Jays supporter, is that Toronto, the sign stealers, can’t even get cheating right. They’re obviously not very good at it, as evidenced by their 30-29 record at the Rogers Centre this season. In 2010, Toronto’s .569 home winning percentage was good for third in the AL East. In 2009, that number was .543, good for — you guessed it — fourth in the division. It’s always third or fourth place, man, and I’m sick of it. If the Jays are going to go to the trouble to cheat, I mean really cheat, allegedly going as far as to put someone — a spy — in the stands to steal signs, I’d much rather they be successful. Cheat, but cheat well, my beloved Blue Jays! I can only hope that general manager Alex Anthopoulos, in his retooling of the franchise, is pouring resources into the Cheating Department as well as the Scouting Department.

But this isn’t about me, and my fandom. It’s about the Blue Jays stealing signs, and where we go from here. The analysis, reactions and rebuttals to the ESPN piece are out there, have been written in spades. And what’s important, here and now, at this moment in time, is that the NotGraphs Investigative Reporting Investigation Team has scored, as you were probably expecting, an exclusive interview with Toronto’s Rogers Centre’s mysterious Man In White. Actually, our bold investigative reporter was honest: He stumbled upon the Man In White by chance, running into him outside the ballpark after Thursday’s matinee between Oakland and Toronto, the Man In White smoking a cigarette outside Rogers Centre’s gate eight. Dressed in immaculately white Adidas runners, black pants, and a tight, white, Anderson Cooper-esque v-neck t-shirt, when asked whether he was actually the now-infamous Man In White, the man responded, “I am he,” blew five cigarette smoke rings, “And he is I.”

The Man In White agreed to sit down with our one man NotGraphs Investigative Reporting Investigation Team at St. Louis Bar and Grill — if we were buying, and we were — across the street from the Rogers Centre. Below is a transcript of the exclusive, bombshell interview:

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