Chipper Jones exited Coors Field late Saturday night incensed that Jamie Moyer had accused him of relaying signs from second base. The Braves’ third baseman continued to talk about the incident when he returned early Sunday morning.

Jones said he believes Moyer is paranoid because he spent most of the past five years playing for the Phillies, a team the 40-year-old third baseman said is known for stealing signs….

Jones revealed on Sunday morning that his anger increased when he learned Moyer came to the plate in the bottom of the fifth and told McCann, “that’s how people get hurt” in reference to his belief that some Atlanta players were stealing signs.

“At that point, I told [Todd] Helton and Tulo to tell [Moyer], because he was already out of the game by then after those 900-foot homers with nobody on base,” Jones said. “I said he could meet me in the tunnel to discuss it and I never heard back.”

– Mark Bowman, MLB.com.

Oh boy. There’s so much to chuckle at in this story, first and foremost 40-year-old Chipper Jones vaguely challenging 49-year-old Jamie Moyer to a showdown in the Coors Field tunnel.

Perhaps even funnier than that, though, is Chipper’s insistence throughout the story that he has never stolen signs, as if admitting to doing so would be a mark against his Hall of Fame candidacy. And maybe he really never has, but if not, why not? It’s not against the rules and it helps your team win. If they believe they can get away with it without earning themselves some beanballs, all players should try to steal signs. The goal is to win the game, not the Congressional Medal of Honor.

Moyer is probably especially vigilant about it because he doesn’t have much recourse. Though a 77-mph fastball to the ribs would sting the hell out of you and me, it’s probably not something Major League hitters live in fear of.

You know who probably hates sign stealing? Old-school baseball bro Cole Hamels.

I was trying to hit him. I’m not going to deny it. That’s something I grew up watching, that’s kind of what happened. So I’m just trying to continue the old baseball because I think some people are kind of getting away from it. I remember when I was a rookie the strike zone was really, really small and you didn’t say anything because that’s the way baseball is. But I think unfortunately the league’s protecting certain players and making it not that old-school, prestigious way of baseball…. It’s just, `Welcome to the big leagues.’

– Colbert M. Hamels.

Whoa, is it me or has there just been a lot of tough-guy posturing from Cole Hamels the last week or so? First he publicly shuns the strawberry drink he clearly wanted, now he plunks Bryce Harper then admits it — which no one ever does — in a bizarre and mostly nonsensical tirade about old-school baseball.

Which I guess makes sense, because I know when I think about contemporary players maintaining the gritty, old-school, bloody-uniform legacy of guys like Ty Cobb, Bob Gibson and Nolan Ryan, the first fella that comes to mind is this guy:

Don’t ask me how I wound up on the Polo Grounds’ Wikipedia page, but I did. And while there, reading about the O.G. Polo Grounds on the north end of Central Park — the only version of the Polo Grounds where people actually played polo — I saw this:

An early highlight of Giants’ play at the Polo Grounds was Roger Connor‘s home run over the right-field wall and into 112th Street; visitors to the site today can judge for themselves that this was an impressively long home run for its time or any time.

There’s not much in the way of a citation for the fact on the page, but a Googling led me to this excerpt from Roy Kerr’s book about Connor:

The Giants, New York’s National League team, were making their first appearance at home since mid-August, having just returned from a disastrous road trip that included seven consecutive losses to the league leaders, Chicago and Detroit. Boston’s ace, Charley “Old Hoss” Radbourn, son of an immigrant English butcher, was in the pitching box (there was as yet no”pitching mound”) in the first inning as a tall, powerfully built left-handed Giants hitter who hailed from Waterbury, Connecticut strode to the plate. Games accounts report that Radbourn gave the towering batsman a “good ball,” which was met squarely, and then “it soared upward with the speed of a carrier pigeon. All eyes were turned on the tiny sphere as it flew over the head of Buffington, in right field, and when it finally disappeared over the fence a shout of joy went up from the 2,600 spectators.” It was the only ball ever hit out of the original Polo Grounds, sailing over “an eight foot wall surmounted by a sixteen foot fence,” and landing in a field on 112th Street. The Giants slugger “trotted the circuit around the bases, and when he finally reached home base he looked at the fence and appeared happy. The members of the team shook the hand of the successful batsman, and he was gazed upon in wonderment by Radbourn and the other members of the Boston team.”

The book later estimates the shot at 435 feet, so nothing outrageous by today’s standards — though still pretty awesome — and probably utterly crazy in 1886. This Hardball Times post suggests home plate was around the corner of 5th Ave. and 110th St., for anyone interested in walking out Connor’s shot.

This post at NYCStrayCat.com passes along the account from the Sporting News that “members of the New York Stock Exchange, occupying box seats, were so smitten by the Herculean clout that they took a collection for the slugger. When the contributions were totaled, the fans were able to present a $500 gold watch to their hero.”

Connor’s Wikipedia page says his 6’3″, 220-pound stature gave the Giants their nickname, but the Giants’ Wikipedia page suggests otherwise.

What’s certain is that Roger Connor had an amazing mustache:

He was also awesome at baseball.

Bryce Harper’s first Major League hit came with some curious window-dressing.

Lots of baseball fans who are not Nationals fans (so: most baseball fans) already hate 19-year-old Bryce Harper for a bunch of the silly things he has said and done as a teenager, which is silly because teenagers should never really be held accountable for the silly things they say and do if they’re ultimately as innocuous as the silly things Harper has said and done.

But I do hope Harper turns into the great baseball heel he appears destined to become. Here’s what I wrote last year:

Take the low road, Bryce Harper. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, by blowing that kiss to that pitcher, Harper flipped over the end of the spectrum from intolerable entitled brat to completely lovable heel. Remember that this is the kid who grew up rooting for the Yankees, Lakers, Cowboys and Dukeand who, when asked to describe himself in one word, first considered “gorgeous” then settled on “Hercules.” This is a Shooter McGavin in the making.

And yeah, you know and I know that he’s just a kid and that kids do and say stupid kid things all the time like we did when we were kids, but at this point — with the hype and the money and the expectations and the eye-black and everything — there’s pretty much nothing Harper can do that will endear him in the eyes of baseball fans outside of DC by the time he reaches the Majors, if and when that happens.

Obviously the big drawback is the beanballs, which will likely only pick up as Harper advances and will probably serve to tone down his act a bit in the long run. But make ‘em teach you, Bryce. Admire your moonshots. Maintain that godawful mustache. And maybe armor up a bit. The baseball world needs bad guys, and due to your unique situation, the crosshairs have apparently settled on you. Smile back and blow a kiss. Here’s hoping you make the bigs in time to have A-Rod pass you the torch.

All that still holds. The pesky thing about Harper, though, is that he still hasn’t hit much above A-ball. It’s a small sample, but he posted a .256/.329/.395 line in 37 games at Double-A last year and a .250/.333/.375 mark in his first 20 games at Triple-A this year. He’s young and purportedly talented enough that it seems a safe bet he’ll be good eventually, but it doesn’t seem likely he’ll do much to help the Nationals in 2012.

Check this out: In the history of baseball, only 10 teenagers have ever proved better than league-average hitters in any season in which they’ve had over 200 plate appearances. Only two have done so in the last 30 years: Ken Griffey Jr., whose Minor League stats trumped Harper’s, and Edgar Renteria, who had a full season of Double-A ball under his belt and who wasn’t again a better-than-league-average hitter until he was 25.

The Class A affiliate of the Minnesota Twins is running a promotion in which fans can win a free ticket to a future game if they can top Moyer’s 78 miles-an-hour on the radar gun. On the first day of the promotion last week, about 85 fans tried. None succeeded.

– Mike Dodd, USA Today.

Aaron Gleeman brought this up last week, which prompted some pretty funny Twitter exchanges and then a conversation on the podcast: What percentage of adult males between 20 and 60 can throw 80 miles per hour or above? Because, as Gleeman noted, lots of people react to news of Moyer getting Major League hitters out with 78 mph gas with comments like, “Hell, I can throw that hard.” But truth is you probably can’t.

I’ve been playing baseball in Brooklyn for almost six years now. In that time there’s been turnover in our group, plus some fill-in players. So I’ve probably played with upwards of 100 people in that time, many of whom played in college. At a recent bar conversation with several of the longest-tenured players, we could only name four or five who might throw 80 on one throw. We confirmed, via text message during the conversation, that one guy we played with one time was throwing in the mid-to-high 80s, but a) his pitches were demonstrably faster than everyone else’s and b) the same text message conversation revealed that the guy, a college pitcher, is now slated for labrum surgery.

My friend Bill threw in the high 80s in high school. I haven’t seen him throw in years and he may jump in the comments and say otherwise, but I suspect he could still throw at least as hard as Moyer today.

And that’s it. One friend from high school whom I suspect can, a couple guys from the very self-selecting group of baseball dudes that might, and one dude we played with one time who definitely could but now needs shoulder surgery. Throwing even as fast as Jamie Moyer is a very, very rare ability, which is why I guessed only 1 in 500 adult males can do it on the podcast and in the Twitter conversation with Gleeman.