A number of people in the sabermetric community have questioned the wisdom of the Braves’ decision last summer to send away a young and talented shortstop in Yunel Escobar for an old and less-talented shortstop in Alex “Sea Bass” Gonzalez.

Though we oughtn’t draw unnecessarily strong conclusions from one isolated incident, the footage you see thoroughly GIF’d and embedded above might, at the very least, point to some issues within the brain part of the Blue Jay shortstop.

Specifically what you’re seeing is an incident from last Thursday’s Pittsburgh-Toronto game in which Escobar mimicked a throw to first but then — kinda blatantly, really — opted to go ahead and punch former teammate Matt Diaz, instead.

As this YouTube footage shows, it’s likely that Escobar was exacting some sort of revenge for a takeout-type slide executed by Diaz the night before; however, there appears to be nothing particularly out of the ordinary about Diaz’s actions.

Friendly punch throw to Alex Remington for heads-up on this.

I scarcely need to mention this, but Kirk Gibson and his brawny musk, unlike a certain Francis Macomber, do not quake and flee at the sight of a lion. Kirk Gibson and his brawny musk fear no man, beast or godhead. The sprawling African savanna, it is his …

You might wonder what Mr. Gibson, Lord of the African Savanna, does with the captured pitchers you see above. He murders them.

We’re not going to break new tournament ground here. No number one seeds went down, and though Steve Bedrosian was huggable, the Mad Hungarian won out.

So now we’re on to the two seeds. And now an upset becomes more likely. Especially when the high seed looks like he’s sitting on the toilet.

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Peruse MLB.com’s pitching probables section, reader, and you’ll notice that each scheduled pitcher receives a brief, paragraph-long review (much like you see for Houston’s Bud Norris above) regarding his recent performance, season in context, etc.

Peruse MLB.com’s pitching probables for this Wednesday, however, and you’ll be confronted merely by blank space under Charlie Morton’s name.

“What gives?” you’re probably thinking — which, that happens to be the very same question NotGraphs asked of Major League Baseball itself.

“We’re just effing bored of him,” responded MLB’s Head of Public Relations Tom Jenkins via email. “Seriously, we’ve tried to give a crap for, like, his last four or five starts, but now it’s just to where we told our intern, ‘We know how sad it makes you to write those profiles for Morton every fifth day. Probably just get some other work done instead.'”

When asked which other pitchers might receive similar treatment as the season wears on, Jenkins responded immediately with Jon Garland, adding “I don’t really even understand how he’s still a major-league pitcher. As effed up as that organization is, the very presence of Garland might be the most effed up part about it.”

Legal Note: Many of the facts and names in this piece are total fabrications.

They are not always terrifying arid deathscapes with low humidity, hungry fauna and heavy-handed political undertones.

I’ve spent the greater part of the past week consumed entertained by Out of the Park 12, the new baseball simulation computer game by the folks who brought you Out of the Park 11 and ten other quality titles.  Before I send up their meticulous craftsmanship for gentle ridicule, I should disclose that Out of the Park 12 is a really fine game, and I’ve written a review that says as much, in addition to trumpeting my ability to transform the 1977 expansion Seattle Mariners into World Champions.

Obviously, baseball simulators put the power in the gamer’s hands, much in the same way that flight simulators, WOPR, and the Power Glove have in the past.  In my mind, however, one of the most appealing aspects of the genre is that these games tend to create a surreal, shadowy universe where most, but not all, of the usual rules of the baseball world apply.  The experience is almost akin to being thrown into a Bradbury short story where there are still lemonade stands and elementary schools, but the sun only comes out once every seven years.   Only fun!

After all, don’t we all want to visit (but not live in) a universe where the following trade takes place?  (Note: enlargination is vital for appreciating the condensed humor below.  Proceed accordingly.)

In fact, if you happen to organize a small writing group that meets bi-weekly at a local coffee shop, I encourage you to use this picture as a prompt: “write a two page short-short story that takes place on the morning of March 31, 2011, as the city of Chicago lies in rubble.”  Bonus points for including Jim Hendry screaming in anguish at the cloudless sky, a pair of broken eyeglasses in one hand.

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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 River Runs Through It by Norman MacLean.

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.

I am haunted by Dick Allen.

This has been the latest installment of Inserting Dick Allen’s Name Into Works of Literature.

The thrilling snake juice investigation continues with the dramatic Part 3! Click here for Part 1 or Part 2.

I woke to see the blonde woman extending an ice pack towards me.

“For your head.”

“Thanks,” I said, still taking the ice pack. “Where are we?”

I looked around to see we were no longer in the helicopter, but instead in some narrow room.

“Um, Tennessee, I think,” she said, peaking over my shoulder.

“Tennessee?” I said, closing my eyes as I pressed the ice gently on my throbbing head.

“Yeah, well, you can’t really reach Illinois without going over Tennessee,” she said with a shrug.

Baffled, I looked over my shoulder to see clouds and mountains slowly moving along.

“We’re in an airplane?”

“I prefer to call it my jet-propelled laboratory,” Dr. Supplies said, entering the cabin. “Billy, I sink you want to see zis.”

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A Photographic Essay:

As both (a) science and (b) residents of the American South are able to confirm, there’s more than one way, reader, to skin a cat.

So it is, then, that, with this revelation, we discover yet another way in which skinning a cat and enjoying baseball are similar — for there are numerous ways of doing the latter, as well.

Some of those — like watching a game while enjoying one of America’s great public spaces or listening to a game while playing the crap out of one’s PlayStation 3 — have been documented in these very pages. But some is the operative word here, for the list of ways to enjoy Our Fair Sport is close to, if not entirely, inexhaustible.

Allow me, then, to submit for the reader’s consideration another way in which I’ve recently enjoyed baseball — namely, by watching MLB.TV while also listening to comedian Marc Maron’s WTF podcast.

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Remember VCRs? Of course you do. So does our favorite umpire, Joe West.

You’ll be happy to know that the NotGraphs Investigative Reporting Investigation Team has confirmed, with help from our resident Photoshopper Ross (@syourh), that The Great Ejector has no time for Netflix; that his VCR is still going strong. Because, as Joe West said so himself, or would if I could ask him about VCRs, there are far too few things in life with an “EJECT” button on them.

Thanks, Ross. Keep up the great work around here.