I dreamt last night that I received an email from José Bautista wanting to know whether or not FanGraphs ever talked about “big stars” like him for our “fluff pieces.” His attitude was kind of snippy in the email, but the takeaway was that he was 1. reading NotGraphs, and 2. annoyed that I spent so much time thinking about the likes of José Altuve when he himself exists.

In the dream, I responded to the email suggesting that we get together for coffee and have an interview, but he told me that he doesn’t date “reporters.” Obviously when I woke up, that left me with very little meat for my story about José Bautista, so instead here are some more pictures of Major League Baseball players with gloves on their head.

Read the rest of this entry »

Until now, nobody knew this about me: on Mondays, I like to play a little game called “What Was Kent Hrbek Thinking/Smoking/Digesting?”

Won’t you play with me?

Materials for this game are readily available as, for some reason, Kent Hrbek’s life during and after baseball is well documented with candid photos, many of which appeared on baseball cards. Kent was just a photogenic guy. A single Google search might produce hours of fun, but I normally limit myself to one or two rounds of “What Was Kent Hrbek Thinking/Smoking/Digesting?” per Monday. You would be wise to do the same.

Here’s how to play:

Find an image of Kent Hrbek that you haven’t considered previously, open it in a separate browsing window, and enlarge the photo until it covers your entire screen as nearly as possible. Stare deeply. Try to achieve a state of mind wherein only you and Kent/picture of Kent exist. Ask yourself, out loud, “What was Kent Hrbek thinking, smoking, and/or digesting during the moment this photo was taken?”

Allow me to share a few of my own results with you:

Read the rest of this entry »

 . . . and What Are They Ready For

Matt Moore, LHP, Tampa Bay Rays

Moore has plus-plus make-up, which means he should be ready to fill the Guy Smiley void in MLB that has gone unfilled for too long now. Most scouts believe that his days of pouting like a toddler are over, and he’s now committed to his teammates, as evidenced by his pledge to keep David Price’s car safe from hobo urine.

Read the rest of this entry »

Since I covered all the heavy-hitting stuff in yesterday’s post, how’s about we finish this series off with some fun quickies:

Great Moments in Baseball Accessories

Read the rest of this entry »

In the first two parts of this series, we looked at mainly superficial things: hair, beards and mustaches, players that might have contributed to contemporary hipster trends, hats, spectacles, and one fine tush.

Today, because NotGraphs readership is comprised of sensitive, intelligent people who prefer to take a humanistic approach, and because many of the player photos featured in the 1986 Topps sets are so candid that they often provide great insight into players’ demeanors or preoccupations — their very souls, even — I’d like to explore a more personal side of the players appearing in these cards.

Here are some psychological themes that emerged as I examined the sets.
Read the rest of this entry »

The 1986 Topps and Topps Traded sets, for all of their poor design and photography, do capture some pretty awesome aesthetic moments — at least as far as we can expect from the 1980s. My post yesterday featured some Great Moments in Coiffure, but that was just the beginning: there are plenty of other style tips to be gleaned. Behold! (All pics embiggenable, as per the us’.)

Read the rest of this entry »

The 1986 Topps sets are full of strange images: poor lighting, bad angles, unsuspecting subjects, compromising poses, greasy faces. Often, the players appear steeped in the awkwardness of adolescence, and the photographers, equally awkward in their amateurishness, seem to have snapped off unconsidered shots with disposable cameras.

Read the rest of this entry »

In which the current straits of the New York Mets and their discontents are best communicated through the ghoulish works of Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes.

As you shall soon see, being a Mets fan in 2012 is not unlike being eaten by a god or ritually slaughtered by a French butcher …

It is like being eaten by a god.

Read the rest of this entry »

I’ll not bore you with the sequence of banalities that led me to do a Google Image search for “Don Russ,” but please know that I have done precisely this. In its origins it is, of course, an homage of sorts to the Donruss family of cardboard sports products. Google and its lidless eye sensed this straightaway:

No, I did not. I want Don. And then I want Russ. Herein fail not!

Thank you.

What follows are the two most compelling images that turned up, with the stipulation that the eligible photos must contain a guy named Don and a guy named Russ. First, we have this:

The caption tells me that the three men pictured above are, from left to right, Don, Russ and Higgy. It is 1957. Higgy appears to be a young Danny Thomas. Higgy. 1957.

Next:

Above you see Mark, Don and Russ. Russ is in favor of peace, while Don just wants a cold one and some barbecue chips. Ol’ Don. I like that guy.

This is the offseason, and I have been searching on the Internet for Don and Russ.

As seen below, Fred McGriff is about to embark on a long career of smiling.

“Look, mom: I’m rated.”

Here, the smile that would warm so many hearts, find it’s way to so many cities and onto so many teams, into so many livingrooms, the livingrooms of our dreams, our strangest, sweatiest dreams, is yet but a smirk on a young McGriff’s superstar lips. Read the rest of this entry »